[pg 166]
To describe an Independent Member upon a given indefinite line of politics.
Sawyers in the woods form a letter L.
Let C R, or Conservative Reform, be the given indefinite line—it is required to describe on C R an independent member.
A geometric diagram.
With the centre Reform, and at the distance of Conservatism, describe G B and M—or Graham, Brougham, and Melbourne—the extremes of the Whig Administration of 1834.
With the centre Conservatism, and at the distance of Reform, describe G B and P—or Graham, Buckingham, and Peel—the extremes of the Tory Administration of 1841.
From the point Graham, where the administrations cut one another, draw the lines Graham and Reform, and Graham and Conservatism.
Then Graham and Conservative Reform is an independent member.
For because Reform was the centre of the Whig Administration, Graham, Brougham, and Melbourne
Therefore Graham and Reform was the same as Reform with a shade Conservatism.
And because Conservatism is the centre of the Tory Administration, Graham, Buckingham, and Peel
Therefore Graham and Conservatism is the same as Conservatism with a shade Reform
Therefore Graham and Conservatism is the same as Graham and Reform
Therefore Graham is either a Conservative or a Reformer, as the case may require.
And therefore he is a Conservative Reformer—
Wherefore, having three sides, which are all the same to him—viz. Reform, Conservatism, and himself—he is an independent member, and has been described as a Conservative Reformer.
Quod eratdouble-face-iendum.
From a given point to draw out a Radical Member to a given length.
Let A or his ancestors be the given point, and an A s s the given length; it is required to draw out upon the point of his ancestors a Radical member equal to an A s s.
A geometric diagram.
Connect the A s s with A, his ancestors.
On the A s s and A his ancestors, describe an independent member S R I, Sir Robert Inglis.
Then with S R I, Sir Robert Inglis, draw out the A s s to G L and S A, or great literary and scientific attainments.
And with S R I, Sir Robert Inglis, let R Roebuck, be got into a line upon A, his ancestors.
With the A s s in the middle, describe the circulation of T N, or “Times†newspaper.
And with SRI, Sir Robert Inglis, as the centre, describe the Circle of the H of C, or House of Commons.
Then R A, or Roebuck on his ancestors, equals an A s s.
For because the A s s was in the middle of T N, or “Times†newspaper.
Therefore the rhodomontade of G L and S A, or great literary and scientific attainments, was equal to the braying of an A s s.
And because S R I, or Sir Robert Inglis, was in the centre of H C, or House of Commons.
Therefore S R I on G L and S A, or Sir Robert Inglis on the great literary and scientific attainments, was only to be equalled by S R I and R, or Sir Robert Inglis and Roebuck.
But Sir R I is always equal to himself.
Therefore the remainder, A R, or Roebuck on his ancestors, is equal to the remaining G L and S A, or great literary and scientific attainments.
But G L and S A, or the great literary and scientific attainments, have been shown to be equal to those of an A s s.
And therefore R A, or Roebuck on his ancestors, is equal to an A s s.
Wherefore, from a given point, A, his ancestors, has been drawn out a Radical member, R, Roebuck, equal to an A s s.
Quod eratsheep-face-iendum.
From the greater opposition of two members to a given measure to cut, off a part, so as it may agree with the less.
Let P C and W R, or Peel the Conservative and Wakley the Radical, represent their different oppositions to the New Poor Law, to which that of W R, or Wakley the Radical, is greater than that of Peel the Conservative—it is required to cut off from W R, or Wakley the Radical’s opposition a part, so that it may agree with that of P C, or Peel the Conservative.
A geometric diagram.
From W, or Wakley, draw W T, or Wakley the Trimmer, the same as P C, or Peel the Conservative.
With the centre W or Wakley, and to the extremity of T trimming, describe the magic circle P L A C E.
Cutting W R or Wakley the Radical in B P, his Breeches Pocket.
Then W B P or Wakley and his Breeches Pocket, agrees with Peel the Conservative.
For because the circle P L A C E is described about W or Wakley
Therefore W B P or Wakley and his Breeches Pocket, is of the same opinion as W T or Wakley the Trimmer.
But W T or Wakley the Trimmer, agrees with Peel the Conservative.
Therefore W B P or Wakley and his Breeches Pocket, agrees with P C or Peel the Conservative.
Wherefore, from the greater opposition of W R, Wakley the Radical, to the New Poor Law, is cut off, W B P, Wakley and his Breeches Pocket, which exactly coincides with the minor opposition of P C or Peel the Conservative.
Quod eratbrazen-face-iendum.
During a rural ramble, the ex-premier was diverted from the mental Shakesperian sustenance derived from “chewing the cud of sweet and bitter fancy,†by an importunate appeal from a reckless disorderly, who was doing penance for his anti-teetotal propensities, by performing a two hours’ quarantine in the village stocks. So far from sympathising with the fast-bound sufferer, his lordship, in a tone of the deepest regret, deplored, that he had himself not been so tightly secured in his place, as, had that been the case, he would still have been provided with
A man with his feet in stocks.BOARD AND LODGING FOR A SINGLE MAN.
BOARD AND LODGING FOR A SINGLE MAN.
Shop fronts are daily “higher†raised.Our master’s “ire†as often;Would they but raiseour“hire†a bit,’Twould much our mis’ries soften!
Shop fronts are daily “higher†raised.Our master’s “ire†as often;Would they but raiseour“hire†a bit,’Twould much our mis’ries soften!
Shop fronts are daily “higher†raised.
Our master’s “ire†as often;
Would they but raiseour“hire†a bit,
’Twould much our mis’ries soften!
THE SHOPMEN—POOR DEVILS
[pg 167]
“Pampeluna, Oct. 1.
“An event has just occurred which will doubtless change the dynasty of the Spanish succession before I have finished my letter. At eleven o’clock this morning, several officers were amusing themselves at picquet in a coffee-house. One having played the king, another cried out, ‘Ay, the king!Vivat! Down with the Queen! Don Carlos for ever!’ This caused a frightful sensation, and the National Guards are now on their way to blockade the house.
“One o’clock, P.M.—The National Guards have joined the Carlists, and the regulars are at this moment flying to arms.
“Two o’clock.—The royal troops are defeated, and Don Carlos is now being proclaimed King of Spain, &c.â€
“Madrid, Oct. 2.
“The nominal reign of Don Carlos, commenced at Pampeluna, has been but of short duration. A diversion has taken place in favour of the husband of the Queen Regent—Munos, who, having been a private soldier, is thought by his rank and file camaradoes to have a prior claim to Don Carlos. They have revolted to a man, and the Carlists tremble in their boots.
“Six o’clock, A.M.—The young Queen has fled the capital—Munos is our new King, and his throne will no doubt be consolidated by a vigorous ministry.
“Seven o’clock, A.M.—News has just arrived from Pampeluna that the Carlists are so disgusted with the counter-revolution, that a counter-counter-revolution having taken place amongst the shopkeepers, in favour of the Queen Regent, the Carlists have joined it. After all, the Queen Mother will doubtless permanently occupy the throne—at least for a day or two.
“Eight o’clock.—News has just arrived from Biscay of a new revolt, extending through all the Basque provinces; and they are only waiting for some eligible pretender to come forward to give to this happy country another ruler. Advices from all parts are indeed crowded with reports of a rebellious spirit, so that a dozen revolutions a-week may be assuredly anticipated during the next twelvemonth.â€
And must we part?—well, let it be;’Tis better thus, oh, yes, believe me;For though I still was true to thee,Thou, faithless maiden, wouldst deceive me.Take back this written pledge of love,No more I’ll to my bosom fold it;The ring you gave, your faith to prove,I can’t return—because I’ve sold it!I will not ask thee to restoreEachgage d’armour, or lover’s token,Which I had given thee beforeThe links between us had been broken.They were not much, but oh! that brooch,If for my sake thou’st deign’d to save it,For that, at least, I must encroach,—It wasn’t mine, although I gave it.The gem that in my breast I wore,That once belonged unto your motherWhich, when you gave to me, I sworeFor life I’d love you, and no other.Can you forget that cheerful morn,When in my breast thou first didst stick it?—I can’t restore it—it’s in pawn;But, base deceiver—that’s the ticket.Oh, take back all, I cannot bearThese proofs of love—they seem to mock it;There, false one, take your lock of hair—Nay, do not ask me for the locket.Insidious girl! that wily tearIs useless now, that all is ended:There is thy curl—nay, do not sneer,The locket’s—somewhere—being mended.The dressing-case you lately gaveWas fit, I know, for Bagdad’s caliph;I used it only once to shave,When it was taken by the bailiff.Than thou didst give I bring back less;But hear the truth, without more dodging—The landlord’s been with a distress,And positively cleared my lodging.
And must we part?—well, let it be;’Tis better thus, oh, yes, believe me;For though I still was true to thee,Thou, faithless maiden, wouldst deceive me.Take back this written pledge of love,No more I’ll to my bosom fold it;The ring you gave, your faith to prove,I can’t return—because I’ve sold it!
And must we part?—well, let it be;
’Tis better thus, oh, yes, believe me;
For though I still was true to thee,
Thou, faithless maiden, wouldst deceive me.
Take back this written pledge of love,
No more I’ll to my bosom fold it;
The ring you gave, your faith to prove,
I can’t return—because I’ve sold it!
I will not ask thee to restoreEachgage d’armour, or lover’s token,Which I had given thee beforeThe links between us had been broken.They were not much, but oh! that brooch,If for my sake thou’st deign’d to save it,For that, at least, I must encroach,—It wasn’t mine, although I gave it.
I will not ask thee to restore
Eachgage d’armour, or lover’s token,
Which I had given thee before
The links between us had been broken.
They were not much, but oh! that brooch,
If for my sake thou’st deign’d to save it,
For that, at least, I must encroach,—
It wasn’t mine, although I gave it.
The gem that in my breast I wore,That once belonged unto your motherWhich, when you gave to me, I sworeFor life I’d love you, and no other.Can you forget that cheerful morn,When in my breast thou first didst stick it?—I can’t restore it—it’s in pawn;But, base deceiver—that’s the ticket.
The gem that in my breast I wore,
That once belonged unto your mother
Which, when you gave to me, I swore
For life I’d love you, and no other.
Can you forget that cheerful morn,
When in my breast thou first didst stick it?—
I can’t restore it—it’s in pawn;
But, base deceiver—that’s the ticket.
Oh, take back all, I cannot bearThese proofs of love—they seem to mock it;There, false one, take your lock of hair—Nay, do not ask me for the locket.Insidious girl! that wily tearIs useless now, that all is ended:There is thy curl—nay, do not sneer,The locket’s—somewhere—being mended.
Oh, take back all, I cannot bear
These proofs of love—they seem to mock it;
There, false one, take your lock of hair—
Nay, do not ask me for the locket.
Insidious girl! that wily tear
Is useless now, that all is ended:
There is thy curl—nay, do not sneer,
The locket’s—somewhere—being mended.
The dressing-case you lately gaveWas fit, I know, for Bagdad’s caliph;I used it only once to shave,When it was taken by the bailiff.Than thou didst give I bring back less;But hear the truth, without more dodging—The landlord’s been with a distress,And positively cleared my lodging.
The dressing-case you lately gave
Was fit, I know, for Bagdad’s caliph;
I used it only once to shave,
When it was taken by the bailiff.
Than thou didst give I bring back less;
But hear the truth, without more dodging—
The landlord’s been with a distress,
And positively cleared my lodging.
What English word expresses the Latin for cold?—“Jellyâ€-does (Gelidus).
Why is a blackleg called a sharper?—Because he’s less blunt than other men.
Why is a red-herring like a Mackintosh?—Because it keeps onedryall day.
Sir Philip Brilliantis a gentleman of exquisite breeding—a man of fashion, with a taste for finery, and somewhat of a fop. He reveals his pretty figure to us, arrayed in all the glories of white and pink satins, embellished with flaunting ribbons, and adorned with costly jewels. His servant is performing the part of mirror, by explaining the beauties of the dress, and trying to discover its faults: his researches for flaws are unavailing, till his master promises him a crown if he can find one—nine valets out of ten would make a misfit for half the money; andRobertinstantly pays a tribute to the title of the play by discovering awrinkle—equally an emblem of an “Old Maid†and an ill-fitting vest. This incident shows us thatSir Philipis an amateur in dress; but his predilection is further developed by his exit, which is made to scold his goldsmith for the careless setting of a lost diamond. The next scene takes us to the other side of Temple-bar; in fact, upon Ludgate-hill. We are inside the shop of the goldsmith,Master Blount, most likely the founder of the firm now conducted by Messrs. Rundell and Bridge. He has two sons, who, being brought up to the same trade, and always living together, are, of course, eternally quarrelling. Both have a violent desire to cut the shop; the younger for glory, ambition, and all that (after the fashion of all city juveniles, who hate hard work), the elder for ease and elegance. The papa and mamma have a slight altercation on the subject of their sons, which happily, (for family quarrels seldom amuse third parties) is put an end to by a second “shine,†brought about by the entrance ofSir Philip Brilliant, to make the threatened complaint about bad workmanship. The younger and fieryThomas Blountresents some ofSir P.B.’s expressions to his father; this is followed by the usualbadinageabout swords and their use. We make up our minds that the next scene is to consist of a duel, and are not disappointed.
Sure enough a little rapier practice ends the act; the shopman is wounded, and his adversary takes the usual oath of being his sworn friend for ever.
The second act introduces a new class of incidents. A great revolution has taken place in the private concerns of the family Blount.Thomas, the younger, has become a colonel in the army; John, having got possession of the shop, has sold the stock-in-trade, fixtures, good-will, &c.; doubtless, to the lateMr. Rundell’sgreat-grandfather; and has set up for a private gentleman. For his introduction into genteel society he is indebted toRobert, whom he has mistaken for a Baronet, and who presents him to several of his fellow-knights of the shoulder-knot, all dubbed, for the occasion, lords and ladies, exactly as it happens in the farce of “High Life Below Stairs.â€
But where are the “Old Maids†all this time? Where, indeed!Lady BlancheandLady Anneare young and beautiful—exquisitely lovely; for they are played by Madame Vestris and Mrs. Nisbett. It is clear, then, that directly they appear, the spectator assures himself that they arenotthe “Old Maids.†To be sure they seem to have taken a sort of vow of celibacy; but their fascinating looks—their beauty—their enchanting manners, offer a challenge to the whole bachelor world, that would make the keeping of such a vow a crime next to sacrilege. One does not tremble long on that account.Lady Blanche, has, we are informed, taken to disguising herself; and some time since, while rambling about in the character of a yeoman’s daughter, she enteredBlount’sshop, and fell in love withThomas: at this exact part of the narrativeColonel Blountis announced, attended by his sworn friend,Sir Philip Brilliant. A sort of partial recognition takes place; which leaves the audience in a dreadful state of suspense till the commencement of another act.
Sir Philip, who has formerly lovedLady Blanchewithout success, now tries his fortune withLady Anne; and at this point, dramatic invention ends; for, excepting the mock-marriage ofJohn Blountwith a lady’s-maid, the rest of the play is occupied by the vicissitudes the two pair of lovers go through—all of their own contrivance, on purpose to make themselves as wretched as possible—till the grand clearing up, which always takes place in every last scene, from the “Adelphi†of Terence (or Yates), down to the “Old Maids†of Mr. Sheridan Knowles.
Since playwrights have left off plotting and under-plotting on their own account, and depend almost entirely upon the “French,†managers have added a new member to their establishments, and, like the morning papers, employ a Paris correspondent, that French plays, as well as French eggs, may be brought over quite fresh; though from the slovenly manner in which they (the pieces, not the eggs) are too often prepared for the English market, they are seldomneatas imported.
The gentleman who “does†the Parisian correspondence for the Adelphi Theatre, has supplied it with a vaudeville bearing the above title; the fable, of which, like some of Æsop’s, principally concerns a hen, that, however, does not speak, and a smart cockscomb who does—an innocent little fair who has charge of the fowl—a sort ofJustice Woodcock, and a bombardier who, because he is in the uniform of a drum or bugle-major, calls himself a serjeant. To these may be added, Mr. Yates in his own private character, and a few sibilants in the pit, who completed the poultry-nature of the piece by playing the part of geese.
The plot would have been without interest, but for the accidental introduction of the last two characters,—or the geese and the cock-of-the-walk.[pg 168]The pittites, affronted at the extreme puerility of some of the incidents, and the inanity of all the dialogue, hissed. This raffled the feathers of the cock-of-the-walk, who was already on, or rather at, the wing; and he flew upon the stage in a tantrum, to silence the geese. Mr. Yates spoke—we need not say how or what. Everybody knows how he of the Adelphi shrugs his shoulders, and squeezes his hat, and smiles, and frowns, and “appeals†and “declares upon his honour†while agitating the buttons on the left side of his coat, and “entreats†and “throws himself upon the candour of a British public,†and puts the stamp upon all he has said by an impressive thump of the foot, a final flourish of the arms, and a triumphal exit to poean-sounding “bravoes!†and to the utter confusion of all dis—or to be more correct, hiss—sentients.
In the end, however, the latter triumphed; andCocoricodeserved its fate in spite of the actors. Mrs. Grattan played the chief character with much tact and cleverness, singing the vaudevilles charmingly—a most difficult task, we should say, on account of the adapter, in putting English words to French music, having ignorantly mis-accentuated a large majority of them. Miss Terrey infused into a simple country girl a degree of character which shews that she has not yet fallen into the vampire-trap of too many young performers—stage conventionalism, and that she copies from Nature. It is unfortunate for both these clever actresses that they have been thrust into a piece, which not even their talents could save from partial ——, but it is a naughty word, and Mrs. Judy has grown very strict. The piece wantscur-tailment; which, if previously applied, will increase the interest, and make it, perhaps, an endurable dramatic
A poodle.FRENCH “TAILâ€â€”WITH CUTS.
FRENCH “TAILâ€â€”WITH CUTS.
The conductor of these concerts has not a single requisite for his office—he is several degrees less personable than M. Jullien—he does not even wear moustaches! and to suppose that a man can beat time properly without them is ridiculous. He looks a great deal more like a modest, respectable grocer, than a man of genius; for he neither turns up his eyes nor his cuffs, and has the indecency to appear without white gloves! His manners, too, are an insult to the lovers of the thunder and lightning school of music; he neither conducts himself, nor his band, with the least grace oréclat. He does not spread out both arms like a goose that wants to fly, while hushing down adiminuendo; nor gesticulate like a madman during the fortes; in short, he only gives out the time in passages where the players threaten unsteadiness; and as that is very seldom, those amateurs who pay their money only for the pleasure of seeing thebâtonflourished about, are defrauded of half their amusement. M. Musard takes them in—for it must be evident, even to them, that what we have said is true, and that he possesses scarcely a qualification for the office he holds—if we make one trifling exception (hardly worth mentioning)—for he is nothing more than, merely, a first-rate musician. With this single accomplishment, it is like his impudence to try and foist himself upon the Cockneydilettantiafter M. Jullien, who possessed every other requisite for a conductorbuta knowledge of the science; which is, after all, a paltry acquirement, and purely mechanical.
On the evening PUNCH was present, the usual dose of quadrilles and waltzes was administered, with an admixture from the dull scores of Beethoven. Disgusted as we were at the humbug of performing the works of this master without blue-fire, and an artificial storm in the flies, yet—may we confess it?—we were nearly as much charmed by the “Andante†from his Symphonia in A, as if the lights had been put out to give it effect. We blush for our taste, but thank ourstars(Jullien included) that we have the courage to own the soft impeachment in the face of an enlightened Concert d’Eté patronising public. In sober truth, we were ravished! The pianos of this movement were so exquisitely kept, theensembleof them was so complete, the wind instruments were blown so exactly in tune, so evenly in tone, that the whole passion of that touching andante seemed to be felt by the entire band, whichwentas one instrument. The subject—breaking in as it does, when least expected, and worked about through nearly every part of the score, so as to produce the most delicious effects—was played with equal delicacy and feeling by every performer who had to take it up; while the under-current of accompaniment was made to blend with it with a masterly command and unanimity of tone, that we cannot remember to have heard equalled.
Of course, this piece, though it enchanted the musical part of the audience, disgusted the promenaders, and was received but coldly. This, however, was made up for when the drumming, smashing, and brass-blurting of the overture to “Zampa†was noised forth: this was encored with ecstacies, and so were some of the quadrilles. Happy musical taste! Beethoven’s septour, arranged as a set of quadrilles, is a desecration unworthy of Musard. For this piece of bad taste he ought to be condemned to arrange the sailor’s hornpipe, as
A ship.A SLOW MOVEMENT IN C (SEA).
A SLOW MOVEMENT IN C (SEA).
The celebrated pranks of the “Bull in the China Shop†are likely to be repeated on a grand scale—the part of the Bull being undertaken, on this occasion, by the illustrious John who is at the head of the family.
The Emperor, when the last advices left, was discussing achop, surrounded by all his ministers. The chop, which was dished up with a good deal of Chinese sauce, was ultimately forwarded to Elliot. The custom of sending chops to an enemy is founded on the idea, that the fact of there being a bone to pick cannot be conveyed with more delicacy than “by wrapping it up,†as it is commonly termed, as politely as possible.
Our readers will be surprised to hear that the Chinese have attacked our forces withjunk, from which it has been supposed that our brave tars have been pitched into with large pieces of salt beef, while the English commanders have been pelted withchops; but this is an error. The thing calledjunkis not the article of that name used in the Royal Navy, but a gimcrack attempt at a vessel, built principally of that sort of material, something between wood and paper, of which we in this country manufacture hat-boxes.
The Emperor is such a devil of a fellow, that those about him are afraid to tell him the truth; and though his troops have been most unmercifully wallopped, he has been humbugged into the belief that they have achieved a victory. A poor devil named Ke-shin, who happened to suggest the necessity for a stronger force, was instantly split up by order of the Emperor, who can now and then do things by halves, though such is not his ordinary custom.
We have sent out a correspondent of our own to China, who will supply us with the earliest intelligence.
The sympathies of a charitable and witty public are earnestly solicited in behalf of
JOHN WILSON CROKER, Esq., late Secretary to the Admiralty, author of the “New Whig Guide,†&c., &c., who, from having been considered one of the first wits of his day, is now reduced to a state of unforeseen comic indigence. It is earnestly hoped that this appeal will not be made in vain, and that, by the liberal contributions of the facetious, he will be restored to his former affluence in jokes, and that by such means he may be able to continue his contributions to the “Quarterly Review,†which have been recently refused from their utter dulness.
Contributions will be thankfully received at the PUNCH office; by the Hon. and Rev. Baptist Noel; Rogers, Towgood, and Co.; at the House of Commons; and the Garrick’s Head.
Samuel Rogers, Esq.—Ten puns, and a copy of “Italy.â€
Tom Cooke, Esq.—One joke (musical), consisting of “God save the Queen,†arranged for the penny trumpet.
T. Hood, Esq.—Twenty-three epigrams.
Hon. and Rev. Baptist Noel.—A laughable Corn-law pamphlet.
John Poole, Esq.—A new farce, with liberty to extract all the jokes from the same, amounting to twojeux d’espritand a pun.
Proprietors of PUNCH.—The “copy†for No. 15 of the LONDON CHARIVARI, containing seventeen hundred sentences, and therefore as many jests.
Col. Sibthorp.—A conundrum.
Daniel O’Connell.—An Irishtail.
Messrs. Grissel and Peto.—Astrike-ing masonic interlude, called “The Stone-masons at a Stand-still; or, the Rusty Trowel.â€
Commissioner Lin.—A special edict.
Lord John Russell.—“A new Guide to Matrimony,†and a facetious essay, called “How to leave one’s Lodgings.â€
Sir P. LAURIE begs to inquire of the medical student, whose physiology is recorded in PUNCH, in what part of the country Farmer Copœia resides, and whether he is for or against the Corn Laws?
[pg 169]
Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk was a tall young man, a thin young man, a pale young man, and, as some of his friends asserted, a decidedly knock-kneed young man. Moreover he was a young man belonging to and connected with the highly respectable firm of Messrs. Tims and Swindle, attorneys and bill-discounters, of Thavies’-inn, Holborn; from the which highly respectable firm Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk received a salary of one pound one shilling per week, in requital for his manifold services. The vocation in which Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk laboured partook peculiarly of the peripatetic; for at all sorts of hours, and through all sorts of streets was Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk daily accustomed to transport his anatomy—presenting overdue bills, inquiring after absent acceptors, invisible indorsers, and departed drawers, for his masters, and wearing out, as he Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk eloquently expressed it, “no end of boots for himself.†Such was the occupation by which Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk lived; but such was not the peculiar path to fame for which his soul longed. No! “he had seen plays, and longed to blaze upon the stage a star of light.â€
That portion of time which was facetiously called by Messrs. Tims and Swindle “the leisure†of Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk, being some eight hours out of the twenty-four, was spent in poring over the glorious pages of the immortal bard; and in the desperate enthusiasm of his heated genius would he, Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk, suddenly burst forth in some of the most exciting passages, and with Stentorian lungs “render night hideous†to the startled inhabitant of the one-pair-back, adjoining the receptacle of his own truckle-bed and mortal frame.
Luck, whether good or evil, begat Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk an introduction to some other talented young gentlemen, who had so far progressed in histrionic acquirements, that from spouting themselves, they had taken to spouting their watches, and other stray articles of small value, to enable them to pay the charges of a private theatre, where, as often as they could raise the needful, they astonished and delighted their wondering friends. Among this worshipful society was Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk adopted and enrolled as a trusty and well-beloved member; and in the above-named private theatre, in suit of solemn black, slightly relieved by an enormous white handkerchief, and a well-chalked countenance, did Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk, at or about the hour of half past eight—being precisely sixty minutes behind the period announced, in consequence of the non-arrival of the one fiddle and ditto flute comprising, or rather that ought to have comprised, the orchestra—made his début, and a particularly nervous bow to the good folks there assembled, “as and for†the character “of Hamlet, the Danish Prince.â€
To describe the “exclamations of delight,†the “tornadoes of applause,†the earthquakes of rapture, or the “breathless breathing†of the entranced audience, would beat Mr. Bunn into fits, and the German company into fiddle-cases; so, like a newspaper legacy, which is the only one that never pays duty, we “leaveit to our reader’s imagination.â€
The die was cast. Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk’s former avocations became intensely irksome—if he served a writ it was no longer a “writ of right.†Copies for “Jenkins†were consigned to “Tompkins;†“Brown†declined pleading to “Smith†and Smith declared off Brown’s declaration. In inquiries after “solvent acceptors,†Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk was still more abroad. In the mystification of his brains, all answers seemed to be delivered “per contra.†Forlorn hopes on three-and sixpenny stamps were converted into the circulating medium; “good actors†were considered “good men†in the very reverse of Shylock’s acceptation of the term; and astonished indorsers succeeded in “raising the wind†upon “kites†they would have bet any odds no “wind in the world could induce to fly.†Everything in this world must come to an end—bills generally do in three months: so did these, and so did Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk’s responsible and peripatetic avocations in the highly respectable firm of Messrs. Tims and Swindle, attorneys, and to their cost, through the agency of Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk, bill-discounters, of Thavies’ Inn, Holborn; they, the said highly respectable firm of Tims and Swindle, handing over to Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk the sum of four and tenpence, being the balance of his quarter’s salary, which, so great was Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk’s opinion of the solvency of the said highly respectable firm, he had allowed to remain undrawn in their hands, together with a note utterly and totally declining any further service or assistance as “in†or “outdoor†or any sort of clerk at all, from Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk, and amiably recommending the said Horatio to apply elsewhere for a character; the which advice Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk attended to instanter, and received, in consideration of the sum of thirty shillings, that of “Richard the Third†from the Dramatic Committee of Catherine Street. If Hamlet was good, Richard (among the amateurs) was better; and if Richard was better, Shylock (at “one fiveâ€) was best, and Romeo and all the rest better still: and it may be worthy of remark, that there is no person on earth looked upon by admiring managers as more certain of success than the “promising young man who PAYS for his parts.â€
Now it so happened that Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk’s purse became an exceedingly “Iagoâ€-like, “something, nothing, trashy†sort of affair—in other words, that its owner, Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk, was regularly stumped; and as the Amateur Dramatic Theatrical Committee “always go upon theno pay no play system,†Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk was about to incur the fate of Lord John Russell’s tragedy, and become regularly “shelved.â€
In this dilemma Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk addressed all sorts of letters to all sorts of managers, offering himself for all sorts of salaries, to play the best of all sorts of business, but never received any sort of answer from one of them! Returning to his solitary lodging, after a fortnight’s “half and half†of patience and despair, and just as despair was walking poor patience to Old Harry, Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk encountered one of his histrionic acquaintance, who did the “three and sixpenny walking gents,†and dramatic general postmen, or letter-deliverers, at “the Private.†In the course of the enlightened conversation between the said friend, Mr. Julius Dilberry Pipps, and Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk, Julius Dilberry Pipps expressed an earnest wish that he “might be blowed considerably tighter than the Vauxhall balloon if ever heseesuch a likeness of Mr. Hannibal Fitzflummery Fitzflam,†the “great actor of the day,†as his “bussomand intimate,†Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk! A nervous pressure of Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk’s “pickers and stealers†having nearly reduced to one vast chaos the severely compressed digits of the enthusiastic Julius Dilberry Pipps, the invisible green broad-cloth envelopments and drab lower encasements, crowned with gossamer and based with calf-skin, wherein the total outward man of Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk was enrobed, together with his ambulating anatomy, evanished from the startled gaze of the deserted and finger-contused Julius Dilberry Pipps! Having asserted the entire realisation of his hastily-formed wish, in the emphatic words, “Well, Iamblowed!†and a further comment, stating his conviction that “this wasraythera rummy go,†Mr. Julius Dilberry Pipps reduced his exchequer the gross amount of threepence, paid in consideration of the instant receipt of “a pint o’porter and screw,†to the fumigation of which he applied with such excessive vigour, that in a few moments he might be said, by his own exertions in “blowing a cloud,†to be corporeally as well as mentally “in nubibus.â€
To account for the rapid departure of Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk, we must inform our readers the supposed similarity alluded to by Julius Dilberry Pipps, between the “great creature,†Hannibal Fitzflummery Fitzflam, and Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk, had been before frequently insisted upon: and this assertion of the obtuse Julius Dilberry Pipps now seemed “confirmation strong as proof of holy writ.†Agitated with conflicting emotions, and regardless of small children and apple-stalls, Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk rushed on with headlong speed, every now and then ejaculating, “I’ll do it, I’ll do it!†A sudden overhauling of his pockets produced some stray halfpence; master of a “Queen’s head,†a sheet of vellum, a new “Mordaunt,†and an “envelope,†Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk, arrived at his three-pair-back, indited an epistle to the manager at the town of ——, with extraordinary haste signed the document, and, in “the hurry of the moment,†left the inscription thus—H.F. FITZFLAM! The morrow’s post brought an answer; the terms were acceded to, the night appointed for his opening; and Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk found, upon inspecting the proof of the playbill, the name in full of “Mr. Hannibal Fitzflummery Fitzflam,†“the great tragedian of the day!â€
Pass we over the intervening space, and at once come to the momentous morning of rehearsal. The expected Roscius arrived like punctuality’s self, at the appointed minute, was duly received by the company, who had previously been canvassing his merits, and assuring each other that all stars weremuffs, but Fitzflam one of the most impudent impostors that ever moved. “I, sir,†said the leader of the discontented fifteen-shillings-a-week-when-they-could-get-it squad, “I have been in theprofessionmore years than this fellow has months, and he is getting hundreds where I am neglected: never mind! only give me a chance, and I’ll show him up. But I suppose the management—(pretty management, to engage such a chap when I’m here)—I suppose they will truckle to him, and send me on, as usual, for some wretched old bloke there’s no getting a hand in. John Kemble himself (and I’m told I’m in his style), I say, John Kemble, my prototype, the now immortal John, never got applause in ‘Blokes!‘—But never mind.†As a genealogist would say, “Fitz the son of Funk†never more truly represented his ancestral cognomen than on this trying occasion. He was no longer with amateurs, but regulars,—fellows that could “talk and get on somehow;†that were never known to stick in Richard, when they remembered a speech from George Barnwell; men with “swallows†like Thames tunnels: in fact, accomplished “gaggers†and unrivalled “wing watchers.†However, as Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk spoke to none of them, crossed where he liked, cut out most oftheirbest speeches, and turnedalltheirbacksto the audience, he passed muster exceedingly well, and acted the genuine star with considerable effect. So it was at night. Some folks objected to his knees, to be sure; but then they were silenced—“What! Fitzflam’s knees bad! Nonsense! Fitzflam is the thing in London; and do you think Fitzflam ought to be decried in the provinces? hasn’t he been lithographed by Lane? Pooh! impudence! spite!†The greatnamemade Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk “the great man,†and all went swimmingly. On the last night of his engagement, the night devoted to his benefit, the house was crammed, and Mr.[pg 170]Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk, reflecting that all was “cock sure,†as he should pocket the proceeds and return to London undiscovered, was elevated to Mahomet’s seventh heaven of happiness, awaiting with impatience the prompter’s whistle and the raising of the curtain: where for a time we will leave him, and attend upon the real “Simon Pureâ€â€”the genuine and “old original Hannibal Fitzflummery Fitzflam.â€
(To be continued.)
SIR R. PEEL has been recently so successful in fishing for adherents, that, since bobbing so cleverly for Wakley, he has baited his hook afresh, and intends to start for Minto House forthwith; having his eye upon a certain small fish that is ever seenRusselling among the sedges in troubled waters. We trust Sir Bob will succeed this time in
Three men talk.FISHING FOR JACK.
FISHING FOR JACK.
Downing-street.
Sir,—Knowing that you are everywhere, the Secretary of State has desired me to request you will inquire into the alleged distress, and particularly into the fact of people who it is alleged are so unreasonable in their expectations of food, as to die because they cannot get any.
I have the honour to be, &c.HORATIO FITZ-SPOONY
Sir,—I have received your note. I am everywhere; but as everything is gay when I make my appearance, I have not seen much of the distress you speak of. I shall, however, make it my business to look the subject up, and will convey my report to the Government.
I think it no honour to be yours, &c.; butI have the very great honour to be myself without any &c.PUNCH.
In compliance with the above correspondence, Punch proceeded to make the necessary inquiries, and very soon was enabled to forward the following
Sir,—In compliance with my undertaking to inquire into the public distress, I went into the manufacturing districts, where I had heard that several families were living in one room with nothing to eat, and no bed to lie upon. Now, though it is true that there are in some places as many as thirty people in one apartment, I do not think their case very distressing, because, at all events, they have the advantage of society, which could not be the case if they were residing in separate apartments. It is clear that their living together must be a matter of choice, because I found in the same town several extensive mansions inhabited by one or two people and a few servants; and there are also some hundreds of houses wholly untenanted. Now, if we multiply the houses by the rooms in them, and then divide by the number of the population, we should find that there will be an average of three attics and two-sitting-rooms for each family of five persons, or an attic and a half with one parlour for every two and a half individuals; and though one person and a half would find it inconvenient to occupy a sleeping room and three-quarters, I think my calculation will show you that the accounts of the insufficiency of lodging are gross and wicked exaggerations, only spread by designing persons to embarrass the Government.
With regard to the starvation part of the question, I have made every possible inquiry, and it is true that several people have died because they would not eat food; for the facts I shall bring to your notice will prove that no one can have perished from thewantof it. Now, after visiting a family, which I was told were in a famishing state, what was my surprise to observe a baker’s shop exactly opposite their lodging, whilst a short way down the street there was a butcher’s also! The family consisted of a husband and wife, four girls, eight boys, and an infant of three weeks old, making in all fifteen individuals. They told me they were literally dying of hunger, and that they had applied to the vestry, who had referred them to the guardians, who had referred them to the overseer, who had referred them to the relieving officer, who had gone out of town, and would be back in a week or two. Not even supposing there were a brief delay in attending to their case, at least by the proper authorities, you will perceive that I have already alluded to a baker’s and a butcher’s,both(it will scarcely be believed at the Home-office) in thevery streetthe family were residing in. Being determined to judge for myself, I counted personally the number of four-pound loaves in the baker’s window, which amounted to thirty-six, while there were twenty-five two-pound loaves on the shelves, to say nothing of fancy-bread and flourad libitum. But let us take the loaves alone,
which, if divided amongst a family of fifteen, would give 12 pounds and 14 fractions of a pound to each individual. Knocking off the baby, for the sake of uniformity, and striking out the mother, both of whom might be supposed to take the fancy bread and the flour, which I have not included in my calculation, and in order to get even numbers, supposing that 194 pounds of bread might become 195 pounds by over weight, we should get the enormous quantity of fifteen full pounds weight of bread, or a stone and one-fourteenth, (more, positively, than anybody ought to eat), for the husband and each of the children (except the baby, who gets a moiety of the rolls) belonging to thisstarving family!!! You will see, Sir, how shamefully matters have been misrepresented by the Anti-Corn-Law demagogues; but let us now come to the butcher’s meat.
It will hardly be credited that I counted no less than fourteen sheep hanging up in the shop I have alluded to, while there was a bullock being skinned in the back yard, and a countless quantity of liver and lights all over the premises. Knocking off the infant again for the sake of uniformity, you will perceive that the fourteen sheep would be one sheep each for every member of this family, including the mother, to whom we gave half the rolls and flour in the former case, and there still remains (to say nothing of the entire bullock for the baby of three weeks, which no one will deny to be sufficient) a large quantity of lights, et cetera, for the cat or dog, if there should be such a wilful extravagance in the family. With these facts I close my report, and I trust that you will see how thoroughly I have proved the assertion of the Duke of Wellington—that if there is distress, it must be in some way quite unconnected with a want of food, for there is plenty to eat in every part of the country.
I shall be happy to undertake further inquiries, and shall have no objection to consider myself regularly under Government.
Yours obediently,PUNCH.
LORD JOCELYN, in his recent work upon China, while writing upon the pastimes and amusements of the people, expresses great satisfaction at the entertainment afforded travellers in their private assemblies; though he confesses, as a general principle, he should always avoid making one in the more promiscuous