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Chapter XXIV: Letter XLIII (4)

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_And your Petitioners as in duty bound will ever bray, &c._

* * * * *

THE GOOSE CLUBS.

Our eyes are again edified by the announcement so familiar to us at this season--"A GOOSE CLUB HELD HERE." We really should like to have a set of the rules of one or more of these Clubs, for we are puzzled to think what amount of goosedom can be a qualification for membership. Surely the Peace Society people must be honorary members for life of every Goose-Club in the kingdom, if merit has its reward, and admittance to a Goose-Club is to be obtained by personal gooseishness, or a corresponding amount of quackery. We have heard that the manager of a certain highly patronised theatre has consulted his solicitor upon the advertisement of a Goose-Club near Oxford Street, with the view of ascertaining whether the word goose is meant to apply to himself in a libellous manner. The legal sage not being prepared, the Goose question is in abeyance.

* * * * *

REVIEWING.

The review of a young girl's life is frequently like any other review--a quantity of smoke, and noise, with here and there a red coat seen through it.

* * * * *

BAD NEWS FOR THE PEACE SOCIETY.

Although we have lost the Hero of a Hundred Fights we are promised a Sovereign of a thousand _mils_.

* * * * *

A PAPER WAR.--Some monarchs fight for gold; but the CZAR and the SULTAN are at war about notes.

* * * * *

LETTERS FROM THE BOSPHORUS.

MR. WILLIAM TAYLOR, _of Her Majesty's Bomb, the Thunder_, _to_ MRS. WILLIAM TAYLOR _of Wapping Wall_.

Vell, u see, Polly, ve wos a getting sicker and sicker of lyin' in Besicker Bay, wen ve got our sailin' horders, an cum here has fast has we could drive to help the Muzzlehims. And a rummer lot than them Muzzlehims, hi never set hies on. For has soon has hever we cum'd to a hanker, a feller called a Capstan Bashy, wich is all as one as our Port hadmiral, cums on bord to pay his respex to our capting. And, hinstead of sayin 'How air yer, old Boy?' or 'Tip us yer daddles my buck,' as a gentleman would, he makes a bob and stix his great beerd out, and he sez, sez he 'Sally may lick 'em.' Vell, in coorse you'll think he got mast-edded for his himperence, but no, he warn't, for our capting were perwented by resins of state, like the tiger has couldn't get his por thro the bars of his cage to curry the monkey's hide; so the captin honely looked sivvil and sez, quite cheerful like, 'Lick' em Sally' wich wos taint a mouse with tellin the Turk to lick 'em hisself. An then wun can't be hangry with the poor hignorant fellers as nose no better than to call their hone hemperor a Paddyshaw, when he haint a Hirishman, nor his name haint SHAW. And their primeer, who is wun WRETCHED PASHUR, they calls a Grand Wheezy, and all their chief hossifers they calls Agurs, so you see they've grate rume for himprovement in the names they gives peepul. Howsumever their hall werry hot for fitin just now, and goes about braggin theyr has brave has ROOSTUM, who was a grate cock of the walk in these parts formerly. Their reglar harmy they calls Nishan, wich I spose is the short for hammunishan, as I hear their werry strong in the hartillery line. But they puts most faith in a lot of hold women called High Ma'ams, which is their parsons, and a parcel of yung fellers called Softers, wich ansers to hour Hoxfora coves, and hever so many of these High Ma'ams and Softers air goin to jine the army, and fite for their profit, as they sez, from wich I conclude they gets good pay. And if theyr honely harf as plucky as our Chaplin, they may purtect the Golden Horne, as they calls this place, werry well. But has for us, our fear is that if they thrashes the Rooshans, the Rooshans wont come here, an then _we_ shant get no fitin. Howsumdever we kepes up our spirits, and opes for the best, so no more at present from your luvin husband,

"B. TAYLOR."

* * * * *

FORTUNE-TELLERS FOR NATIONS.

What the _Edinburgh Review_--in a highly superior article on "Church Parties"--calls the "Prophetic Press," is now in a state of violent eruption. The volcano in labour, however, brings forth only the bottle of smoke. You can hardly take up your morning paper without being invited, in the advertising columns, by some half-dozen several expositors, to take so many new walks into futurity. The Overthrow of the Papacy, the Destruction of the Ottoman Empire, the Battle of Armageddon, the Millennium, demand your attention together with the last novel, and SOYER'S Pantropheon, and the Propriety of Legalising Marriage with a Wife's Sister. It is a remarkable circumstance that the gentlemen who announce these awful things, so calculated to wean the soul from all earthly solicitudes, do not omit to affix prices to their productions. Like common Gipsies, these reverend Romany require their hands to be crossed with silver. This shows that whilst they direct the attention of others to future certainties, they give no small share of their own to the main chance. On that account we hesitate to compare them to MOTHER SHIPTON, who was an old woman, or to NIXON, who was an idiot. Otherwise we should regard them as common asses, pretending to rank with the ass of BALAAM.

French, Italian, German, without a Master, are studies not very generally successful; and the language of prophecy must be rather more difficult, independently of proper direction. Those who are inclined to entertain the idea that MR. STIGGINS and MR. CHADBAND are illuminated expositors of DANIEL and the Apocalypse had better pay a visit to MR. WYLD'S Great Globe, to acquire, if possible, some enlargement of the views of the world and the destinies of the human race. The patrons of the "Prophetic Press" will find it best to await that explanation of prophecy which is afforded by its fulfilment; but they will have to wait a long time for any such thing in reference to the commentaries of CHADBAND and STIGGINS.

To infer the future from the past, however, is to prophesy with some security. At all crises of the world's history have CHADBANDS and STIGGINSES applied their prophetic wisdom to the question of the day. At all those times they have made money--and mistakes. On all similar occasions in future will they, in precisely the same manner, succeed, and--fail.

* * * * *

DOLOURS OF ST. DUNSTAN'S IN THE WEST.

Ye citizens of London, who some filial pity feel
For all her noble monuments, give ear to our appeal:
Leave meaner things, the strife of kings, of SULTAN and of CZAR,
And think of perils nearer home--the fate of Temple Bar.

Mad lev'llers shake their axes o'er our venerable gate--
The City's porch, where monarchs proud are told that they must wait:
To make more space for dingy dray, for omnibus and car,
The revolutionary cry is "Down with Temple Bar!"

Utilitarians, stern and cold, who argue, like the goose,
That ev'ry thing is useless which is not of any use,
Bethink you what our plight will be in times of civil jar:--
Where shall we stick our rebels' heads if we've no Temple Bar?

And if our relics, one by one, are thus to disappear,
What shall we have but narrow lanes to tempt a visit here?
How blank and pale will be their cheek, when pilgrims from afar
Shall pace Fleet Street, with pious feet, and see no Temple Bar!

The doom of Smithfield market's sealed;--gone is its ancient fair;
And soon the pomp of LORD MAYOR's show may vanish into air;
Blackfriar's Bridge, pure Puddle Dock, the Monument, and, ah!
Ev'n GOG and MAGOG are not safe--then save poor Temple Bar.

* * * * *

A PEACEFUL SOLICITOR.

A Guildford and guileless solicitor "and a Member of the Peace Society," denounces all war as un-Christian. War at _no_ price! He says, the soldier disobeys the law of Christianity by killing a man. How about the attorney? Does he obey the Christian law by helping to lock a man up? As Christians, should we not be of charity and forgiveness all compact? Does the solicitor make out his bill of costs according to the behest of the Prince of Peace? Would our solicitor act in a cause of action for unprovoked and brutal assault? Hardly, if he denounces "the soldier's bloody calling" on every occasion. What is war but an action?--NICHOLAS _v._ ABDUL-MEDJID. The Cossack attacks the Turk, and the Turk, whipping out his scimetar, shaves off the Cossack's head. What is this but an action--the Cossack, for the first assault, paying righteous costs?

Now, if the enemy were to march to Guildford, would "A Solicitor and a Member of the Peace Society" open his door to the intruders, saying--"Enter ye, who are heavy laden with ball-cartridge?"

Does our Solicitor give advice gratis against going to law; even as benevolent doctors give advice against disease?

* * * * *

MUSIC, MALT, AND HOPS.

Messrs. Bass and Co., the teetotallers will be glad to hear, have published a circular in the name of the Burton Pale Ale Brewers, announcing the intention of raising the price of their beer by 6_s_. per cask. This concert among the Brewers, with a Bass for leader, exhibits some novelties in harmony. The Bass rises instead of descending in the scale of price, and by thus increasing in height, will, strange to say, reach up to Double Bass. One more step will raise it to Treble Bass; but that will be a contradiction in terms, and absolutely ridiculous.

* * * * *

A Soporific.--Why is the practice of praising children like opium?--Because it's Laudanum.

* * * * *

_Railway Guard._ "NOW, MA'AM, IS THIS YOUR LUGGAGE?"

_Old Lady (who concludes she is attacked by Brigands)._ "OH YES! GENTLEMEN, IT'S MINE. TAKE IT--TAKE ALL I HAVE; BUT SPARE, OH SPARE OUR LIVES!!"]

* * * * *

DR. CANTWELL'S INCOME-TAX MADE EASY.

DR. CANTWELL--by appointment of the POPE, LORD BISHOP OF MEATH--has written a letter to MR. POLLARD URQUHART, M.P., to inquire how far he, the said DR. CANTWELL, is liable to the Income-Tax, inasmuch as he appears to be prohibited, by the Ecclesiastical Titles' Act, from returning himself under Schedule D as the recipient of any income by the title of BISHOP OF MEATH. MR. URQUHART, who seems to be the MAWWORM to the CANTWELL, answers, that he is rejoiced at any incident that has tended to make more manifest the absurdity of the Ecclesiastical Titles' Act; but that he is "unable to propound any solution of the difficulty, and, indeed, thinks it would require a very wise man to do so." In that opinion he may be correct; nevertheless the problem is very obviously soluble to _Punch_.

All that DR. CANTWELL--who declares himself "unwilling even to appear to resist any law, however unjust and oppressive"--all that titular BISHOP CANTWELL has to do--is simply to return himself as being in the receipt of an income in this country derived from an office which he holds under a foreign power. What may be the denomination of that office he need not state, unless he would wish to contribute to HER MAJESTY'S Exchequer the fine of a hundred pounds, in addition to the lesser penalty of sevenpence in the pound.

It is not everybody that _Punch_ would take the trouble of teaching how to place himself under Schedule D; but really DR. CANTWELL appears so very anxious to pay his Income-Tax conscientiously, that _Mr. Punch_ cannot deny himself the pleasure of assisting the right reverend gentleman in the discharge of that agreeable duty.

* * * * *

SYNONYMOUS SLANG.

The opinions of a certain eminent member of the Peace Society respecting the British Lion are calculated to render the phrase "Honour Bright," equivalent in popular estimation to "Hookey Walker."

* * * * *

THE DYE OF GUILT.

The Kentucky Legislature have resolved--

"That the keeper of the Penitentiary shall procure a suitable
chymical dye, such as will stain the skin perfectly black, so that
it cannot be removed, until time shall wear it away, and Nature
furnish a new cuticle or surface."

When the dye is obtained, the nose of each male convict is to be painted thoroughly black; the paint to be renewed until about to be restored to the world, when the convict shall be restored to society with a clean nose. We hardly perceive the moral and social use of this nose-dyeing; it may also be difficult to obtain the dye of sufficient blackness. In which case _Punch_ advises Kentucky to apply to MRS. STOWE for the use of her ink-bottle: for that lady has dyed not only the noses, but the whole faces of the LEGREES with such well-merited blackness, that Nature must find them not only new skins, but new hearts, ere they can show even tolerably white again.

* * * * *

AN ARMY OF RESERVE.

The foreign correspondent of the _Times_ announces that the Porte has issued an address, "calling on those troops whose courage may fail them to avow the fact without hesitation, so that they may be employed at a distance from the scene of combat." For our own parts, having more of the civil than the military in our composition, we should expect the invitation to be rather generally responded to, as the scenery of a combat is of that kind with reference to which "distance lends enchantment to the view." If the majority of the troops of the Porte should make a "candid avowal" of their desire to remain at a respectful distance from the scene of action, the whole affair might become "void for remoteness"--as the lawyers expressively have it.

* * * * *

AN ARCH IMPOSTOR.--Temple Bar.

* * * * *

_Mr. Bull (to his French Friend)._ "THERE, I DON'T THINK HE'LL WORRY THE TURKEYS ANY MORE."]

* * * * *

THE PRIDE OF ENGLAND.

(_A slight liberty taken with the "Bride of Abydos"._)

Know ye the Inn where the laurel and myrtle
Well emblem the green who are done 'neath its sign?
Where they serve you on plate which is mock as their turtle,
Now fleecing the tourist, now maddening the _Times_?
Know ye the shams of that ill-managed house,
Where the host ever bows, and the bills ever chouse;
Where the "wax-lights" that don't half illumine your room
Give a muttonish rather than waxy perfume;
Where, although you don't see half a waiter all day,
For "attendance" as much as a lawyer's you pay,
And find even then there's an extra for "Boots:"
Nor the porters in asking for liquids are mutes;
Where your "bottle of Sherry" (Cape, under disguise,)
Scarce equals the vinegar-cruet in size,
And analysation completely defies;
Where the sofas are soft as yourself if you dine
At eight shillings a head--perchance even nine,
With the heaviest price for the lightest of wine?--
'Tis the English Hotel: and 'tis twenty to one
That, where'er you may enter it, brown you'll be done.
For more than e'en _Punch_ in a volume could tell,
Are the shams they serve there, and the victims they sell.

* * * * *

OUR TOURIST IN PARIS.--No. 10

If there is a point upon which an Englishman can dwell with pride, it is the high character of the English press. He will never be more impressed with this than when he turns over the French journals and examines the matter of which they are made up. A little foreign politics, Paris scandal, theatrical criticism, and a chapter of a vile novel. Fancy taking up the _Times_ and finding, instead of three solid leading articles, a portion of _Jack Sheppard_, or _The Mysteries of the Court of St. James_, the debates cut down to an analysis, and no home or foreign correspondence! The change would hardly be made agreeable to him by the fact that the milk-and-water or poisonous contributions that did appear were guaranteed by the name of the author of each, and that its only polemics were waxed by some individual SMITH _eo nomine_, against some individual BROWN of another paper. Yet this prosecution against libel is recommended by a public person (I was nearly saying a statesman), who is "by way of being" a patriot, but wants to have a monopoly of influence and vituperation in his own hands. However, it is happily not of the least consequence what that disinterested politician wants, for he certainly will not get it, as we cannot afford to part with our Fourth Estate just yet, and suspect the motives of any one who advises us to do so.

The Tourist makes these reflections with a little bitterness as he sits in a _cafe_ waiting for breakfast. A beautiful lady, with a ravishing little cap on the back of her head, is sitting at the receipt of custom. Two or three smart waiters with long clean aprons are bustling about in attendance on an elderly benevolent looking gentleman, with an impediment in his French, who has ultimately succeeded in ordering a _chop de mutton_ and _une bottel de Stout de Dublin_, solacing himself meanwhile with _Galignani's Messenger_. Through a door is seen another saloon, where bearded men are drinking _eau sucre_ and _liqueurs_.

The sage waiting for his chocolate turns again to the journals, and gratifies himself by picking out the places where THEOPHILE or ALPHONSE or EUGENE pitches into the English. What a useful thing it is to see ourselves as others see us! We find out so much that we were ignorant of. Your Tourist candidly confesses that he had no notion of the wickedness and absurdity of his countrymen, or even of their manners and customs, or the very localities of the country, until he read them, detailed, in the pleasing pages of French feuilletonists. Until he read M. MERY'S English sketches, he was ignorant, and he boldly affirms that many others are ignorant too, of such common facts as that English gentlemen hire post-captains in the Royal Navy to sail their yachts; that Greenwich hospital is a retreat for old soldiers; and that the late DUKE OF WELLINGTON, when COLONEL WELLESLEY, was Governor-General of India. He has selected one _feuilleton_, entitled "SIR JOHN BULL _a Paris_," for its masterly exposure of British foibles. It will be sent to you, translated by his little brother at DR. SWISHAM'S, Turnhambrown, who has made great progress in French, and is sure to do it justice. DR. S. says the boy's English is remarkably pure and idiomatic. The author is the well-known HIPPOLYTE CANARD, whose _bon mots_ are so successful, and who wrote the noble apology for the massacres of February, which gave such umbrage to the present despicable Government.

"I walk myself on the Boulevart. All the world regards me in smiling. And for what? It is true that I have the insular air, at one time respectable and ferocious. I carry the long _redingote_, the scarlet waistcoat, the pantaloon of nankeen, and the umbrella, peculiar to the sons of Albion. JOHN, my jockey, follows me clad in the traditional costume which recalls the courses of Derby and Newmarket. With one hand he holds '_the Times_,' this journal so powerful with which the 'gentlemens' voyage everywhere. With the other he retains my _bouledog_, charming little beast, who testifies a lively desire to eat the calves of the passengers. By what it seems, he recognises his hereditary enemies.

"A sun of spring gilds with his young rays the boughs of the noble trees that like a scarf of green velvet border this so delicious promenade. These good Parisians, veritable children of light and heat, sit at tables outside the Coffee of Paris and the Coffee of the Cardinal, and, refreshed by floods of sugar-and-water, play the national game of dominoes. Cigars, fabricated of a tobacco denied to our sterile soil, regale the nostrils with their astonishing perfume. Young and beautiful ladies, dressed with an extreme elegance, attract upon themselves admiring regards. Crowds of nurses lead children with heads of angel, and hear all in blushing the compliments of soldiers in a red pantaloon. In effect there is not but the braves who merit the belles.

"All respires gaiety, and however I feel my heart moved by a profound sadness. Rhum and gin drunk at long draughts in the English manner fail of their effect and inspire me with but a lugubrious gaiety. I am exiled from all I love. I remember my youth spent among the solitary thickets of Brompton and of Bethnal, and the savage mountains of Middlesex. I miss the sport, the box, the chase with guns, the combats of dogs and cocks. I long for my native land, its porter-beer, its rosbif, its eternal mists, and its polismens. I have gained the spleen.

"Fatal and mysterious malady, which on the banks of the Thames produces effects so desolating! It is to thee that we owe those numerous suicides of which the frightful details encumber our journals, a veritable black page in the history of England. I hear on all sides a confused mixture of strange voices, and the bizarre accents of the French tongue. It is an affair of Babel. I am struck with a vertigo.

"When JULES DE PREMARAY, writer of the first force, visited Albion, he was oppressed by a similar melancholy. He sighed for something of French, a word even. Suddenly an ass began to bray, '_A la bonne heure_,' exclaimed he with joy, '_en voila un qui parle Francais_.' He knew his brother and was glad. It is not long before I receive an equal consolation.

"I meet LORD JONES, who comes from selling Miladi according to the usage a little severe of the English _noblesse_, and has the air of being pleased to find himself again a boy. With him is his son SIR JONES, simple baronet, who has completed his studies at the ancient college of Cambridge. I know them amidst the crowd by their stiffness, their whiskers, their enormous white cravats, their hats with narrow borders, reposed on the backs of their heads. It must be confessed our compatriots have not the elegant _tournure_ and mien full of distinction carried by the grand nation.

As I make my compliments to Milord, a movement of the crowd denotes something of interest. We advance, followed always by the faithful JOHN. I see a sight which recalls the innocent games of my country. Two cocks combatted with indomitable fury. Their eyes sparkled like ardent coals. They leaped by force of wings and tore themselves with beak and claw. It was a spectacle to make fear, a strife to death! At length one fell. The other, victor but bleeding, mounted on the corpse and chaunted his hymn of triumph. My eyes wet themselves with tears.

"Wagram, Marengo, Austerlitz," said, with _brusquerie_, a soldier who observed my emotion.

"'Waterloo,' I proudly answered.

"'BLUCHER, SIR LOWE,' rejoined he, with dignity.

"I bite my lips."

* * * * *

ADIEU, THOU DREARY PILES!

Every one admits that Westminster Bridge is tumbling to pieces, and yet, strange to say, the evil report of the structure is scarcely to be credited, for there is the weakest possible foundation to go upon.

* * * * *

WOMEN'S RIGHTS--MEN'S NOSES.

The female members, advocating Women's Rights in New York, have had a terrific engagement with LLOYD GARRISON and others on the subject of Christianity. Peace, love, and humility dissolved "in a grand row." The ladies could not convince LLOYD GARRISON; and so one of their male champions pulled his nose! This is truly the _argumentum ad hominem_. A man's skull may be so dense that not even female arguments piercingly delivered may penetrate to his brain; but if arguments be too subtle, there is still the convincing thumb and finger. Missing a man's conviction, the next noblest appeal to his reason is, unquestionably, to pull his nose! We hear that a pair of silver gauntlets have been presented by the Christian ladies to their champion who pulled the nose of the stout GARRISON. Indeed, he pulled it so vigorously, it was at first thought he had quite carried it.

* * * * *

BURGLARY AND BRONCHITIS PREVENTED.

According to the ingenious MR. JEFFREYS, nobody should be without a respirator in his hand to clap on his own mouth by way of extinguisher to an incipient cough, or to pop on any unfortunate child who exhibits a tendency to choke. The respirator seems to be of two kinds; the one simply oral, which is calculated to check equally the wheeze of asthma or the whistle of age, and the other, ori-nasal, adapted to nose and mouth, so as to make it impossible either to sneeze or to snore.

According to the assertion of the inventor the Respirator is, in fact, a warm climate for five and sixpence; a portable Madeira that may be always put to the mouth like an inexhaustible bottle, at the mere price of the wine. Many gentlemen and ladies seem to have been starting for warmer latitudes--one individual seems to have been on the top of the 'bus bound, _via_ Paddington, for Barbadoes, when, somebody having recommended him a Respirator, he descended from the knife-board of a City Atlas, rushed into a shop, where he laid out a few shillings, and became the fortunate possessor of a warm climate, to be put on or taken off _ad libitum_.

But perhaps the most valuable feature of the Respirator has been hitherto overlooked, for it is as a defence against Burglary rather than Bronchitis, that it will obtain the highest renown. Let any family go to bed wearing Respirators, and we defy the boldest burglar to execute his purpose if the family should be disturbed. JACK SHEPPARD himself, or any other romantic ruffian, would start back with terror at the aspect of a household armed all in Respirators, and presenting such a picture as one of our artists has supplied. Or suppose the midnight marauder to have made his way into the bed-room of a pair of parents lying with an infant between them, the entire domestic trio wearing the frightful appendage invented by MR. JEFFREYS, we are convinced that the panic-stricken miscreant would shrink out of the "Chamber of Horrors," and proceed to give himself up to justice at the nearest Police Station. We are convinced that a Respirator would be as effectual in frightening away burglars as a blunderbuss, or, rather, as an air-gun, to which, from its effect on the breathing, the instrument may be aptly compared.

* * * * *

THE FAST MEN OF EDINBURGH.

LORD PALMERSTON--through his secretary--has administered a very wholesome rebuke to certain of the Presbytery of Edinburgh yearning, hungering for a fast, to stay the scourge of the Cholera. His Lordship suggests instead of fasting, washing. Eat your daily bread, says his Lordship, only take plenty of soap with it. Attend to your own dinner-table, as usual, only see that those places--

"Which are inhabited by the poorest classes, and which, from the
nature of things, must most need purification and improvement, may
be freed from those causes and sources of contagion which, if
allowed to remain, will infallibly breed pestilence, and be fruitful
in death, in spite of all the prayers and fastings of a united but
inactive nation. When man has done his utmost for his own safety,
then is the time to invoke the blessing of Heaven to give effect to
his exertions."

Surely, this is very true. Prayers, however, earnest, will not sweeten a common sewer. Folks who fast for a long day will hardly do as much to remove the causes of Cholera, as even folks with brooms. An empty belly is scarcely so efficacious for the removal of disease as a clean Wynd. Whitewashed walls are surely quite as good, if not better, than lank jaws, pale with mortification. All Edinburgh wants a sweet clean shirt next a clean skin--not a shirt of penitential bristles, clothing (with hairy piety) a dirty hide. First do your best--says PALMERSTON--and then ask a blessing on it. For the days of miracles are over. The deadly reek of sewers is not to be turned into airs from Heaven, though the most pious MALACHI MALAGROWTHER shall, for a long day and night, go without his porridge for it!

When you have worked, then it is good to ask a blessing on the labour. But hands first--and then, knees.

* * * * *

A LOST LETTER.

An advertisement has appeared in the _Times_, headed "Wanted, Left off Clothing!" and directing the possessors of such articles to apply to "MR. 'AKED." Looking to the character of the want expressed, one would imagine that by some typographical error the initial letter of the gentleman's name had been omitted.

* * * * *

AN UNERRING BILLIARD PLAYER.

How can the POPE get anybody to play billiards with him, unless he gets a Protestant, or a heathen? Who else would expect to have any chance with Infallibility?

* * * * *

RATHER TOO NICE.

A strict business man of our acquaintance is so extremely particular in all his transactions, that since the new Act came in force, he never has been known to pay a compliment, without insisting upon taking a stamped receipt.

* * * * *

THE GOD HYMEN TO THE DEMI-GOD _PUNCH_.

"_Saffron Hill, Olympus. Prid. Id. Oct._

Well beloved, joyful am I to see you Britons--_penitus toto divisos orbe Britannos_, as a friend near me says--returning or relapsing into Paganism. So my altar, 'the altar of HYMEN,' is at last erected in your places of worship, is it? I had doubted whether the news could be true; but I now read the statement so repeatedly in the _Morning Herald_, who asserts herself to be the only exponent of religion (and Irish grammar), that I doubt no longer The 'Hymeneal ceremony' is constantly performed by your priests--so I read. OLYMPUS rejoices--we all rejoice. My father, APOLLO, has composed a capital song in honour of your conversion; and my respected mother, URANIA, is making a new star, which will be hung out in a few nights in commemoration of the same. But, Well-beloved, there is a good saying by PERIANDER of Corinth, '_Prius intellige, et deinde ad opus accede._' The 'Hymeneal Ceremonies' ought to be performed accurately and properly, if at all, or JUNO (between ourselves, a stuck-up party) will show little favour to the nuptials. Instruct your priests and officials, Well-beloved, and let us gods shortly read in the _Morning Herald_, that you are not content with foolishly applying Pagan phrases to Christian facts, but that you are consistent. Something like the following, eh?

"_S. dicit_,

"Yours very faithfully, HYMEN."

* * * * *

MARRIAGE RITES IN HIGH LIFE.

(_From the Morning Herald._)

The long talked of espousals of LORD JULIUS FITZMARLINGSPIKE and the lovely and accomplished ROSA AUGUSTA, youngest daughter of his Grace the DUKE OF BOPPS, have at length come off. Some delay was occasioned by the gentlemen of the long robe, but the _Sponsalia_ having been finally perused and settled by the eminent barrister CHRYSOSTOM SILVERTONGUE, Q.C., were engrossed on the _Legitimae Tabellae_, and were sealed on WODEN'S day last. LORD JULIUS took the opportunity of presenting his betrothed with a splendid _Annulus Pronubus_ of diamonds alternating with emeralds, expressly manufactured by the talented jewellers, RUNT and HOSKELL. There was a difficulty in fixing the marriage day, there being so many unlucky days, and _Atri_, in this month's kalendar, and _Salii_ and the _Parentalia_ festivals approaching. But yesterday having been selected, the lovely bride was dressed in a long white robe bordered with purple fringe, or embroidered ribbons (we could hardly say which), bound with a girdle of wool, and tied, of course, with the time-honoured _Nodus Herculeus_. Her face was covered with a flame-coloured veil, denoting modesty, and her beautiful hair having been divided into six locks with the point of a spear (kindly lent from the New Zealand Museum), was crowned with flowers supplied from a well-known _bouquetiere_ in Covent Garden. Her shoes were of the same colour as her veil. The auspices had been duly consulted, and a very fine hog having been sacrificed to JUNO (the animal was supplied from the long-established styes of MESSRS. CHITTERLINGS AND CO.), the omens from its inside were pronounced very favourable. We must not omit to record a _bon mot_ of the bride, which shows that she possesses all the wit for which her _spirituel_ family has been so long celebrated. On the question at the espousals being put to her, "_An spondes?_" she instantly replied, with an arch smile, "_Spondeo, sed nomen meum non est_ ANNE." The marriage ceremony was performed at the house of the DUKE OF BOPPS, but in the evening the bride was conducted to her husband's _domus_. Three boys, whose parents were alive, attended her, two holding her by the arms, and one flourishing a link, which we regret was made the subject of ribald remark by the other boys in the street. The maid-servants followed with distaff, spindle, and wool, and a boy from the Lowther Arcade bore the playthings--the _crepundia_--for the family with which it is to be hoped ROSA will be blessed. The boys let off more than usually good _sales et couvicia_, which is accounted for by _Mr. Punch_ having kindly undertaken to supply the jokes for the day. On arriving in Park Lane, the house of LORD FITZMARLINGSPIKE was found tastefully adorned with leaves and flowers, and the rooms with tapestry. ROSA, being asked by LORD JULIUS who she was, replied, in a firm voice, "_Ubi tu_ CAIUS, _ibi ego_ CAIA," and immediately bound the door-posts with woollen fillets, supplied by MADAME CRINOLINE, of Bond Street. She was lifted over the threshold, touched fire and water--a wax lucifer and some _Eau de Cologne_ doing the symbolic duty--the nuptial song, written by M. CATNACH, and composed by M. COSTA, was sung; LORD JULIUS scattered nuts (best Barcelona, from SHADRACK'S) among the boys; and then several matrons, who had been married but once (the HON. MRS. JONES, the HON. MRS. BROWN, and the HON. MRS. ROBINSON), singing all the way, conducted the happy bride to the nuptial bower, which was erected in the hall, and covered with flowers. Young women sang outside the house until midnight, when they were ordered off by the Police. The second entertainment, the _Nepotia_, will be given this day. We should add that the ceremony was impressively performed by the HON. and REV. PONTIFEX MAXIMUS, assisted by the HARUSPEX BOBBUS MONTGOMERIENSIS.

* * * * *

PLAYHOUSE PEGS.

The _Morning Post_, by a Correspondent, begs to call the earnest attention of an emotional public to the use and abuse of a wooden peg at the Princess's Theatre, "for the accommodation of a lady's bonnet." That bonnets are the source of a multitude of evils is a truth that every married man will not, for a moment, hesitate to avouch; however HENRY or AUGUSTUS--not yet married--may hypocritically venture to dispute. Now a bonnet at the Princess's Theatre--according to the _Post_ correspondent--carries with it a peculiar worth: namely, price sixpence. On the 25th instant at half-past 9, the dress-circle of the Princess's "less than half-full," a lady was required to give up her bonnet. Well and good. That bonnet was hung upon a peg. As bonnets are now worn, a bonnet, for that matter, might be hung upon nothing. When the bonnet was reclaimed, the complaining gentleman proffered 4_d._, which was "indignantly rejected. Nothing less than sixpence could be taken;" which being given, the gentleman remarks commercially "that 6_d._ per evening is too heavy a rate to exact for the use of a peg."

By no means. At least, not at the Princess's Theatre: there, the whole management is a management of pegs. What is poor BYRON made of, but a peg--a mere peg--whereon to hang the fine clothes of a _Sardanapalus_? Plays, as mere plays, are not to be thought of; but pegs--pegs that will hold any number of fine suits, any weight of canvas. In fact, the peg is the play.

To return to the bonnet peg, it may be advisable for good housewives--visiting the Princess's--to follow the advice of MISS MARTINEAU to travellers. She says: Fail not to take a few gimblets; they serve on board ship admirably for pegs. Perhaps the manager of the Princess's will make it known in future bills whether ladies with bonnets visiting his theatre may be permitted to bring their own gimblets.

* * * * *

A DEVOURING FLAME.

Three removes, it is said, are as bad as a fire; but a fire is not so bad as an extravagant woman, by many removes. The one simply burns you out of house, but the other, if she is your wife, burns you out of both house and home; and then again, you may put out the former, but, as long as you have a place to live in, you have no chance of putting out the latter.

* * * * *

AWFUL CALAMITY IN BASS'S BREWERY.

Last week ten thousand barrels of ale--(just advanced 6 _s._ per barrel)--in BASS'S brewery were turned sour by the thunder of--the _Times_.

* * * * *

SCANDAL-MONGERS should take timely warning from the Chinese Rebellion, before the same law is enforced in England as in China; the summary punishment being instantly inflicted on every person who is convicted of being a _tale-bearer_.

* * * * *

A SOVEREIGN REMEDY (_for Bankrupts and Insolvents_).--Paying twenty shillings in the Pound.

* * * * *

_Railway Official (waking Old Gent from a sweet sleep)._ "TICKETS, PLEASE!"]

* * * * *

EVERY CONVICT HIS OWN CHESTERFIELD.

MR. JOHN MITCHEL--by the astute and graceful manner with which he resigned his "comparative liberty," revoking his "parole of honour"--displayed a politeness that would have charmed LORD CHESTERFIELD, and a casuistry that would have ravished IGNATIUS LOYOLA. Determined upon escaping from bondage--(for which we say the smallest blame to him)--he nevertheless resolved to escape like a gentleman. He would resign his "comparative liberty" gracefully, as a bride resigns her hand--he would revoke his parole smilingly, as a high-bred cardplayer would revoke at whist. He enters the police-office--walks into the magistrate's room--gives him a bit of paper. "What's this?" asks the magistrate. "That's to signify," says JOHN MITCHEL, "that you may chain me--lock me up." "May I, indeed!" cried the magistrate. "You may," answers the magnanimous patriot; who, disdaining to take the least advantage, bolts from the court, jumps on a horse ready saddled for the work, and gallops his hardest.

We have heard of splitting a hair; but never before was word of man--parole of honour--broken with such nicety. The flaw is so delicate, it is hard to say where it begins or ends. In future, perhaps, when an Irish convict gentleman waits upon an Australian magistrate, to surrender, on paper, his "comparative liberty," the magistrate, before perusing the document, will take the precaution of shutting the office-door.

* * * * *

THE MILKY WAY IN LANCASHIRE.

Many of the farmers about Preston are giving their cows apples, in consequence of that fruit being more plentiful, and so much cheaper, than potatoes. We wonder whether this difference of diet produces any difference in the milking; and whether a cow, so fed, instead of yielding so many pints of milk, gives now so many bottles of cider; or whether it was a combination of both--a sort of milk-cider? In the cause of temperance, we pause for a reply.

* * * * *

CALEDONIAN FIDDLE-DE-DEE.--The irritation of the Scotch agitators may be only skin-deep, but the disorder nevertheless may prove contagious.

* * * * *

PAYING CULPRITS THROUGH THE NOSE.

We see that old Kentucky is going ahead in the practice of humanity towards an unfortunate and degraded class of beings. Witness the _New York Journal of Commerce_, which contains the subjoined paragraph:--

"MARKING CONVICTS.--A resolution has been introduced into the
Kentucky Legislature, which provides 'that the keeper of the
Penitentiary shall procure a suitable chymical dye, such as shall
stain the cuticle or outer surface of the skin perfectly black, so
that it cannot be washed off, or in any way removed until time shall
wear it away, and Nature furnish a new cuticle or surface; and that
with this dye he shall have the nose of each male convict painted
thoroughly black, and renew the application as often as it may be
necessary to keep it so until within one month of the expiration of
his sentence, when it shall be discontinued for the purpose of
permitting Nature to restore the feature to its original hue
preparatory to the second advent of its owner into the world.'"

It has long been the reproach of America that she has one law for the blacks, and another for the whites. This is in one sense the case in Kentucky; but there the advantage is on the side of the blacks. It is quite obvious that the project for staining the noses of malefactors black would not be feasible in the case of negroes: at least, in that case, it would be a scheme analogous to that of gilding refined gold, if not of painting the lily. That equal justice might lay hold of the nigger's nose, it would be necessary to resort to a converse expedient, and colour the African proboscis white. But for this purpose nothing could be used but a mere pigment; for Chemistry does not supply any substance which would have the effect of bleaching, even temporarily, the blackamoor's skin. If that science could afford such a cosmetic, it would emancipate several millions of persons in America, who are deprived of their liberty and their rights as men for no other crime than their complexion, but who might obtain their freedom as easily as insolvent debtors if they could only manage to procure some sort of wash by which they might be whitewashed.

* * * * *

A THEATRICAL TITLES' BILL WANTED.

We have had an Ecclesiastical Titles' Bill to prevent things from being called by any but their right names; and we are now about to suggest the passing of a Theatrical Titles' Bill, with the view of putting a stop to an assumption of certain high-sounding styles and dignities in the dramatic world, which are becoming offensive to the common sense of our countrymen. "His Eminence," as applied to CARDINAL WISEMAN, may be ridiculous enough, but it is even still more absurd, when usurped as it is, by a number of so-called "eminent" tragedians. There is scarcely a theatrical hole or corner in London that does not advertise its possession of the services of some "eminent" individual, whose "mummeries" are quite as objectionable as those complained of in the Popish priesthood. We suspect, however, that some of the objectionable titles are conferred on the parties without their own consent; and we feel convinced that our honest friend, MR. JOHN COOPER--the comic representative of _Henry the Eighth_, and the original _Bumps_ in _Turning the Tables_--can never have given his adhesion to the bigotry and superstition of Exeter Hall, whose concert conductors have advertised him as the "eminent tragedian."

* * * * *

HUNTING FIXTURES.

BARON ROTHSCHILD'S Hounds will meet on the Banks of the Danube.

* * * * *

CRUEL TREATMENT OF THE POOR AND LOWLY.

Although we are aware that the contemplated evil will be perpetrated too late for the interference of _Punch_: nevertheless, for the sake of future coachmen and footmen of future Lord Mayors, we must indignantly protest against the cruelty exercised by LORD MAYOR SIDNEY on his hapless vassals! Will it be believed that--with the City corporation in _articulo mortis_--the Lord Mayor's coachman and footmen are for the first time to be "in rich Genoa velvet!" The colour a beautiful gunpowder green, "with a scarlet bordering of the same material!" There are moreover to be "hundreds of yards of gold lace," the pattern continuous sprigs of the tea-plant! "Gorgeous aiguillettes of unusual length" (according to the ears of the corporation) "terminating with rich bullion balls;" an improvement that might have been reserved for any future Lord Pawnbroker. "In addition to the rich bullion wings on the shoulders"--the left arm will bear the family crest. Only think of JEAMES with wings! How beautifully does the notion illustrate MILTON!--

"So dear to Heav'n is humble May'ralty,
That when a SIDNEY'S found sincerely so
A thousand liveried angels lacquey him!"

Besides the wings, the gorgeous creatures will carry SIDNEY'S arms and crest, "a porcupine with six mullions!" The porcupine has quills of real gold--no other quills being used in the SIDNEY ledger. In addition to this, the hats of coachman and footmen will be constructed in the form of magnificent tea-pots; made of solid silver, thickly gilt.

All this is very splendid; but what is to become of the poor men, their year of glory out? Two of the footmen--after only trying on their wings--gave signs of incipient insanity; declaring they "felt themselves all over cherubims and no mistake." If, in November, 1854, three of these winged flunkies be found perfectly sane, LORD SIDNEY may be thankful. In the meanwhile, can he ever pass Bedlam, without a tender feeling for the future destiny of his footmen and coachman?

Certain civic enthusiasts glorify LORD SIDNEY for the grandeur that seems to be intended as a fine defiance--like a gilt lion--of the Corporation Commission. The cause for which SIDNEY bleeds in his tailor's bill is, no doubt, a cause very dear to aldermen and councilmen; and it is expected that, emulating his Lordship, they will on the present ninth--as it may be the _last_ show--die gloriously; dying like dolphins in surpassing colours.

Meanwhile, we trust that a watchful eye will be kept upon the angelic footmen and archangelic coachman. What have they done, poor fellows!

* * * * *

NOBLE CONDUCT OF MESSRS. COBDEN AND BRIGHT.

Having recently had a slight corvine plucking with MR. COBDEN and MR. BRIGHT, _Mr. Punch_ has the more pleasure in bearing testimony to their noble conduct in reference to the strike disturbances at Wigan.

As soon as MR. COBDEN was informed of these painful outbreaks, he laid aside a pamphlet which he is writing, to prove that Russia never went to war with anybody, and he hurried off to MR. BRIGHT. He found the latter busily arranging the library which has recently been presented to him for his anti-Corn Law exertions; and that gentleman, hastily dashing down a fine copy of "_Boxiana_," which he was reading with great zest, got into his friend's carriage.

"I think," said MR. COBDEN, with one of his frank smiles, "that we, who have shown that everything can be arranged by diplomacy, have assailed everybody for not settling differences by arbitration, and have so often vaunted the superiority of the cultivated town operative over the agricultural dolt, would hardly like to be accused of allowing thousands of our own disciples to rise in riot close to our own doors, without interfering and arguing with them."

"By Jove!--I mean verily," said MR. BRIGHT, nearly smashing the carriage window in his energy, "I should like any dastard to say that I sneaked out of such an affray."

The missionaries of peace and political economy went pleasantly on, reached Wigan, had the military sent away, and convoked the populace. MR. COBDEN then explained to the rioters that a question of wages was not to be settled by violence, and invited them to a peaceful discussion; and MR. BRIGHT, in the kindest manner, offered to fight anybody who was irrational. Their appeals were successful, and after three hours of peaceful talk, MESSRS. C. & B. went off to the employers with proposals, enforcing them by sound argument. They were accepted, and the whole population have returned to work.

_Mr. Punch_ has not often the happiness of agreeing with the _Morning Herald_, but is bound to express his gratitude to that journal for having called his attention to the above noble and courageous conduct of MESSERS. COBDEN and BRIGHT, who have now shown that they are not mere empty theorists and platform spouters, but honest, consistent friends of peace.

* * * * *

HANOVER IN BRONZE.

The House of Hanover does not shine very much in bronze. All our statues of the departed greatness of that House are marvellously little. The best point of GEORGE THE THIRD is his pigtail; whilst his son, GEORGE THE FOURTH, looks and sits his steed in Trafalgar Square like an over-fed ostler above his business. The DUKE OF YORK--a monument at which every insolvent touches his hat in sympathetic reverence--is, however, to come down. This we learn to be decided upon in the very highest quarters--a truth whispered at the fireplaces of the Clubs. PRINCE ALBERT is to have a statue in Hyde Park: and the men who propose the monument (not that they can want bronze) are to have placed at their disposal, as old metal, the whole of the York Pillar and Royal effigies. Thus the DUKE OF YORK will duly go to the melting-pot, the only manner in which there is any chance of his liquidating the debts he has left behind him.

* * * * *

* * * * *

ABERDEEN _VERSUS_ PALMERSTON.

It is the fashion at all the Clubs to allude to Lord ABERDEEN always as "the injudicious Bottle-holder of the Porte."

* * * * *

BITTER FOR BURTON.--For raising the price of Bitter Ale, the Brewers thereof allege, as one reason, the dearness of _Hops_. What has _that_ to do with it?

* * * * *

_Mrs. B. (loquitur)._ "WELL! IF I'D HA' KNOWN I SHOULD HA' GOT SCROOGED INTO A SANDWICH IN THIS WAY, I'D HAVE SEEN THE HANT-HEATER AT 'ANOVER FUST!"

[_And_ MRS. BUNDLE _can't get a sight of the novelty after all_.]

* * * * *

SPORTING AT WINDSOR.

"HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS PRINCE ALBERT, and the KING OF THE BELGIANS went
out shooting yesterday, attended [_at a respectful distance_] by
COLONEL FLINT."--_Court Circular._

_King._ To continue, _mon cher_, our talk of yesterday. Why not let Russia have Moldavia and--

_Prince._ Mark! [_Fires, and pheasant falls._]

_King._ And Wallachia? You will perceive that Austria, who by the way, has been shamefully libelled by your press; you will perceive, ALBERT, that--

_Prince._ Mark again! [_Both fire, and both miss._]

_King._ Austria requires peace. In fact, the interests of humanity demand peace. France wants peace, Belgium wants peace, Saxe-Coburg wants peace; and Saxe-Gotha wants peace!

_Prince._ How wild the dogs are this morning! To be sure, Saxe-Gotha.

_King._ And England.--for I am more than half an Englishman, my dear ALBERT--England wants peace. Think of your debt. Eight hundred millions! A sum enough to strike the house of ROTHSCHILD flat into gold-leaf. Eight hundred millions, _mon cher_, and Europe in a blaze. How do you know your eight hundred wouldn't be doubled?

_Prince._ Twice eight's sixteen.

_King._ Exactly. I saw a passage in the papers about some wild Indians who fire golden balls. Why, doesn't England always fire golden balls? Load with lead and iron; and don't taxes turn 'em to gold?

_Prince._ ABERDEEN the respectable says the same.

_King._ ABERDEEN'S a great statesman. That is, he's great in his respectability. And the English--I know the noble islanders--the English are so devoted to a respectable Minister, that they'd rather be half-ruined by respectability, than saved and served by anything that's brilliant. They fear brilliancy, as it is said JAMES THE FIRST winced at a drawn sword.

_Prince._ To be sure, PALMERSTON--

_King._ A firebrand, _mon cher_: but now excellently disposed of. However, for the peace of Europe--

_Prince._ Mark! [_Fires; bird falls._]

_King (to dogs)._ Down charge! But for the peace of Europe PAM is capitally placed. It is all right to have a firebrand in the Home Office, so long as you keep a Wet Blanket in the first place of the Treasury.

_Prince._ Peace is certainly to be desired. You have not seen my picture--an allegory of Peace?

_King._ I have. ---- showed it me yesterday. My dear ALBERT, do let me have a copy--nay two copies, by your own hand; one for Austria, one for Russia; they will be delighted. Such "material guarantees" for the peace of Europe; and peace at any price will be cheaper than ever.

_Prince._ ABERDEEN deplores war. He said at the Council on Tuesday, when MOLESWORTH talked about national honour, and shedding blood, and all that--he said: It is better to have your nose pulled, than your nose cut off. Now England has certainly had its nose pulled--

_King._ But has not lost an inch of it. The nose is quite as good as ever, and then--

_Prince._ Down, Pompey! How wild the dogs are!

_King._ And then, with war, what throne is safe? Hungary--Italy--Rome--Naples--

_Prince._ The dogs are very wild!

_King._ And as I've said, _mon cher_, Saxe-Coburg and Saxe-Gotha. Therefore, why not let Russia keep the Provinces, and--

_Prince._ Here come BRABANT and FLANDERS.

_King._ Mark! (_His Majesty fires; bird falls. The_ DUKE OF BRABANT _and_ COUNT OF FLANDERS _join_).

* * * * *

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Punch - Volume 25 (Jul-Dec 1853)Chapter XXIV: Letter XLIII (4)

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