Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 1, October 2, 1841 by Various
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Various >> Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 1, October 2, 1841
Ever, dear Tom, yours,
R.B.
* * * * *
POACHED EGOTISM.
The _Examiner_ observes, in speaking of the types of the new premier's
policy,--"The state, I am the state," said the most arrogant of French
monarchs. "The administration, I am the administration," would seem to say
Sir Robert Peel. In the speech explanatory of his views, which cannot be
likened to Wolsey's "_Ego et Rex meus_," because the importance of the
_ego_ is not impaired by any addition.--This literally amounts to a
conviction, on the part of the editor of the _Examiner_, that the
premier's expression is all in his "I."
* * * * *
THE POLITICAL NATURALIST'S LIBRARY
CONTENTS OF THE VOLUMES ALREADY PUBLISHED.
THE SUPER-NATURAL HISTORY OF--
"HUMMING" BIRDS.--With Memoir and Portraits of Peel, Stanley and Aberdeen.
BIRDS OF THE "GAME" KIND.--Portrait and Memoir of Mr. Gully.
FISHES OF THE "PERCH" GENUS.--Biographical notices of the late Ministry.
RUMINATING ANIMALS, Vol. 1.--Contents: _Goats_, &c. Portrait of Mr. Muntz.
RUMINATING ANIMALS, Vol. 2.--Contents: Deer, Antelopes, &c. Portrait of
Mr. Roebuck.
MARSUPIALS, OR "POUCHED" ANIMALS.--With many _plates_. Portrait and Memoir
of Daniel O'Connell, Esq.
BRITISH BUTTERFLIES.--Portrait and Memoir of Sir E. Lytton Bulwer.
COMPLETION OF THE WORK.--Considerable progress has been making in the
concluding volume of the series. _Rats_, with portraits of Burdett,
Gibson, Wakley, _et genus omne_; but the subject is so vast that no
definite time can be fixed for its publication.
* * * * *
A GREAT CARD.
MR. WAKLEY begs to inform the Lords of the Treasury, the editor of the
_Times_, and the Master of the Mint, that ever anxious to rise in the
world, he has recently been induced to undertake the sweeping of
Conservative flues, and the performance of any dirty work which his Tory
patrons may deem him worthy to perform. Certain objections having been
made as to his qualifications for a climbing boy, Mr. W. pledges himself
to undergo any course of training, to enable him to get through the
business, and to remove any apprehension of his ever becoming
[Illustration: A POTTED BLOATER.]
* * * * *
THE POETICAL JUSTICE.
SIR PETER LAURIE, in commenting upon the late case of false imprisonment,
where two young men had been unjustifiably handcuffed by the police,
delivered himself of the following exquisite piece of rhetoric:--"He did
not think it possible that such a case of abuse could pass unnoticed as
that he had just heard. The general conduct of the police was, he
believed, good; but the instances of arbitrary conduct and overbearing
demeanour _set to flight all the ancient examples brought forward to
enrich by contrast the serious parts of the glorious genius of
Shakspeare_." We never understood or imagined there was an Anacreon among
the aldermen, a Chaucer in the common council, or a Moliere at the
Mansion-house. We have now discovered the Peter Lauriate of the City--the
poet of the Poultry. Who, in the face of the above sentence, can deny his
right to these titles, if, like ourselves, they are
[Illustration: OPEN TO CONVICTION!]
* * * * *
THE EVIL MOST TO BE DREADED.
A clergyman, lately preaching to a country congregation, used the
following persuasive arguments against the vice of swearing:--"Oh, my
brethren, avoid this practice, for it is a great sin, and, what is more,
it is _ungenteel_!"
* * * * *
PUNCH'S THEATRE.
WHAT WILL THE WORLD SAY?
The family of the "Sponges" distributes itself over the entire face of
society--its members are familiar with almost every knocker, and with
nearly everybody's dinner-hour. They not unfrequently come in with the
eggs, and only go out with the last glass of negus. They seem to possess
the power of ubiquity; for, go where you will, your own especial sponge
(and everybody with more than two hundred a-year has one), is sure to
present himself. He is ready for anything, especially where eating, love,
duelling, or drinking, is concerned. To oblige you, he will breakfast at
supper-time, or sup at breakfast-time; he will drink any given quantity,
at any time, and will carry any number of declarations of love to any
number of ladies, or of challenges to whole armies of rivals: thus far he
is useful; for he is obliging, and will do anything--but pay.
When he has absorbed all the moisture his victims are able to supply, he
may be seen walking about in moody solitude in the parks, where he sponges
upon the ducks, and owes for the use of the chairs. In this dry and
destitute condition, behold the sponge of the Covent-Garden
Comedy--_Captain Tarradiddle_. He is in St. James' Park; for, possessing
imaginary rather than substantial claims to military rank, he flits about
the Horse-Guards to keep up his character. A person is already upon the
stage, for whom you instinctively shudder--you perceive, at once, that he
is "in" for dinner, wine, theatre, and supper--you pity him; you see the
sponge, speciously, but surely, fasten himself upon his victim like a
vampire. _Mr. Pye Hilary_, being a barrister and a man of the world,
resigns himself, however, to his fate. As to shaking off his leech, he
knows that to be impossible; and he determines to make what use of him he
can. There is a fine opportunity, for _Mr. Pye Hilary_ is in love, in
despair, and in waiting: he expects his mistress's abigail; in negociating
with whom, he conceives _Tarradiddle_ will be a valuable assistant. _Mrs.
Tattle_ arrives. Preliminaries having been duly settled, articles
offensive and defensive are entered into, to carry out a plan by which the
lover shall gain an interview with the mistress; and the treaty is
ratified by a liberal donation, which the _Captain_ makes to the maid out
of his friend's purse. The servant is satisfied, and goes off in the
utmost agitation, for _Miss Mayley_ and her guardian are coming; and she
dreads being caught in the fact of bribery. _Mr. Hilary_ trembles; so does
the young lady, when she appears; and the agitation of all parties is only
put an end to by the fall of the act-drop.
If any class of her Majesty's subjects are more miserable than another, it
is that of gentlemen's servants. One of these oppressed persons is
revealed to us in the next act. Poor fellow! he has nothing to do but to
sit in the hall, and nothing to amuse him but the newspaper. But his
misfortunes do not end here: as if to add insult to injury, the family
governess presumes to upbraid him, and actually insists upon his taking a
letter to the post. _Mr. Nibble_ declines performing so undignified a
service, in the most footman-like terms; but unfortunately, as it
generally happens, in families where there are pretty governesses and
gallant sons, _Miss de Vere_ has a protector in the _Hon. Charles
Norwold_, who overhears her unreasonable demand, and with a degree of
injustice enough to make the entire livery of London rave with
indignation, inflicts upon his father's especial livery, and _Nibble's_
illustrious person, a severe caning. The consequence of this "strike" is,
that _Nibble_ gives warning, _Lord_ and _Lady Norwold_ are paralysed at
this important resignation; for by it they discover that a secret
coalition has taken place between their son and the governess--they are
man and wife! Good heavens! the heir of all the Norwolds marry a teacher,
who has nothing to recommend her but virtue, talent, and beauty!
Monstrous!--"What will the world say?"
The treaty formed between _Mistress Tattle_ and _Mr. Pye Hilary_ is in the
next act being acted upon. We behold _Captain Tarradiddle_, as one of the
high contracting parties' ambassador, taking lodgings in a house exactly
opposite to that in which _Miss Mayley_ resides. Of course nothing so
natural as that the Captain should indulge his friend with a visit for a
few days, or, if possible, for a few weeks. It is also natural that the
host, under the circumstances, should wish to know something of the birth,
parentage, and education of his guest, of which, though an old
acquaintance; he is, as yet, entirely ignorant. Now, if it be possible to
affront a real sponge (but there is nothing more difficult), such
inquiries are likely to produce that happy consummation. _Tarradiddle_,
however, gets over the difficulty with the tact peculiar to his class, and
is fortunately interrupted by the announcement that _Tattle_ is in the
parlour, duly keeping her agreement, by bringing her mistress's favourite
canary, which, having flown away quite by accident, under her guidance,
has chosen to perch in _Hilary's_ new lodging, on purpose to give him the
opportunity of returning it, and of obtaining an interview with _Miss
Mayley_. The expedient succeeds in the next scene; the lover bows and
stammers--as lovers do at first interviews--the lady is polite but
dignified, and _Tarradiddle_, who has been angling for an invitation, has
his hopes entirely put to flight by the entrance of the lady's guardian,
_Mr. Warner_, who very promptly cuts matters short by ringing the bell and
saying "Good evening," in that tone of voice which always intimates a
desire for a good riddance. This hint is too broad ever to be mistaken; so
the sponge and his victim back out.
_Mr. Warner_ is a merchant, and all merchants in plays are the "noblest
characters the world can boast," and very rich. Thus it has happened that
_Warner_ has, through a money-agent, one _Grub_, been enabled to lend, at
various times, large sums of money, to _Lady Norwold_--her ladyship being
one of those who, dreading "what will the world say?" is by no means an
economist, and prefers "ruin to retrenchment." As security for these
loans, the lady deposits her jewels, suite by suite, till the great object
of all _Warner's_ advances gets into his possession--namely, a bracelet,
which is a revered relic of the Norwold family. So far _Warner_, in spite
of a troublesome ward, and his late visitors, is happy; but he soon
receives a letter, which puts his happiness to flight. His daughter, who
has been on a visit in Paris, became, he now learns, united some months
before, to _Charles Norwold_, and a governess in his father's family. By
further inquiries, he learns that the son is discarded, and is, with his
wife, consigned to beggary, for fear of--"what will the world say?"
The fourth act exhibits one of the scenes of human life hitherto veiled
from the eyes of the most prying--a genuine specimen of the sponge
species--at home! Actually living under a roof that he calls his own; in
company with a wife who is certainly nobody else's. She is
ironing--_Tarradiddle_ is smoking, and, like all smokers, philosophising.
Here we learn the _Honourable Charles Norwold_ and his wife have taken
lodgings; hither they are pursued by _Hilary_, who has managed to
ingratiate himself with _Warner_, and undertaken to trace the merchant's
lost daughter; here, to _Pye's_ astonishment, he finds his friend and
sponge. Some banter ensues, not always agreeable to the Captain, but all
ends very pleasantly by the entrance of _Warner_, who discovers his
daughter, and becomes a father-in-law with a good grace.
The denouement is soon told:--_Warner_, having received his daughter and
her husband, gives a party at which _Lady_, and afterwards _Lord Norwold_,
are present. Here Warner's anxiety to obtain the bracelet is explained. He
reminds his lordship that he once accused his elder brother of stealing
that very bauble; and the consequence was, that the accused disappeared,
and was never after heard of. _Warner_ avows himself to be that brother,
but declines disturbing the rights or property of his lordship, if he will
again receive his son. This is, of course, done. _Hilary_ jokes himself
into _Miss Mayley's_ good graces, and _Tarradiddle_, in all the glories of
a brown coat, and an outrageously fine waistcoat, enters to make the scene
complete, and to help to speak the tag, in which all the characters have a
hand; Mrs. Glover ending by making a propitiatory appeal to the audience
in favour of the author, who ought to be very grateful to her for the
captivating tones in which she asked for an affirmative answer to the
question--
"What will the world say?"
Circumstances prevent us from giving any opinion whatever, except upon the
scenery, the appointments, and the acting. The first is beautiful--the
second appropriate and splendid--the last natural, pointed, and in good
taste.
* * * * *
SIBTHORPIANA.
A clergyman was explaining to the gallant officer the meaning of the
phrase "born again;" but it was quite unintelligible to Sib., who remarked
that he knew no one who could _bear_ him even once.
"Do you read the notice to correspondents in PUNCH?" quoth Sib.--"I do,"
replied Hardinge, "and I wonder people should send them such
trash."--"Pooh!" retorted the punster--"Pooh! you know that wherever PUNCH
is to be found, there are always plenty of _spoons_ after it."
"It's a wonder you're not drunk," said Sibthorp to Wieland--"a great
wonder, because--do you give it up?--Because you're _a tumbler full of
spirits_."
* * * * *
CURIOUS AMBIGUITY.
The correspondent of a London paper, writing from Sunderland respecting
the report that Lord Howick had been fired at by some ruffian, says, with
great _naivete_, "a gun was certainly pointed at his lordship's head, but
it is generally believed there was nothing in it."--We confess we are at a
loss to know whether the facetious writer alludes to the _gun_ or the
_head_.
* * * * *
THE THORNY PREMIER.
A Tory evening paper tells its readers that Sir Robert Peel expects a
harassing opposition from the late ministry, but that he is prepared for
them on _all points_. This reminds us of the defensive expedient of the
hedgehog, which, conscious of its weakness, rolls itself into a ball, to
be prepared for its assailants on _all points_.
* * * * *
TO PROFESSORS OF LANGUAGES WHO GIVE LONG CREDIT AND TAKE SMALL PAY.
Mister F. &c. &c. &c. Bayley is anxious to treat for a course of lessons
in the purest Irish. None but such as will conceal a West Indian patois
will be of the slightest use. For particulars, and cards to view, apply to
Mr. Catnach, Music and Marble Warehouse, Seven-dials.
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