Punch: Punch (56.1869)

June 26, 1869.

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

265

And if you can’t bear
That muzzle to wear,

To be where you are you ’ve no right,

My dear Bright—

To be where you are you’ve no right.

No Minister bullies, John Bright, John Bright—

No Minister bullies, John Bright—

He must couch blame or praise
In Pickwickian phrase,

Aud hit hard with a hand that looks light—

Net like Bright —

Hit hard when he means to hit light.

He must think of his colleagues, John Bright, John Bright-
He must think of his colleagues, John Bright—

What you say may be true,

And may seem sport to you

Yet their game it may ruin outright,

Or oust Bright—

Yes, may e’en in the cold leave John Bright.

Very wise the Lords mayn’t be, John Bright, John Brtght-
Yery wise the Lords mayn’t be, John Bright—

But there’s Commoners, too,

Of whom the same’s true.

And there’s one, Punch is sorry to cite,

That’s John Bright—

He’s one Punch is sorry to cite.

If you give me “ tu quoque,” John Bright, John Bright—

If you give me “ tu quoque,” John Bright—

Granville’s tact and good sense
I ’ll invoke in defence—

To “ hit out ” Punch claims as good right
As has Bright—

Yes, to “ hit out ” we both have a right.

PHOTOGRAPHY OF THE INVISIBLE.

R. Punch,

You probably
know that Mr.
Mumler, the gen-
tleman brought be-
fore a Magistrate at
New York, as your
readers may have
seen in the Echo, in
Public Opinion, and
other newspapers,
on a charge of
swindling people by
the sale of pretended
spirit - photographs,
was discharged for
want of legal evi-
dence to prove the
trick by which he

wrought them. Probably, if he had been had up for selling wooden nutmegs,
he would have got off through the same defect.

You remember hearing your distinguished friend, the late Lord Melbourne
say, speaking of another distinguished friend of yours,—“ I wish I were as certain
of anything as Tom Macaulay is about everything.” My own habit of mind,
Sir, resembles that avowed by the former one of those two of your distinguished
friends. I am not only uncertain of the truth, but also of the untruth, of any-
thing that, so far as I can see, may or may not be true. For instance, 1 am not
positively certain that there may not be some proportion of truth amidst a great
deal of mis-statement, and not a little lying, in the published accounts of the facts
alleged in proof of the persuasion termed Spiritualism. On the other hand, I
suspect, and if I had to “ back my own opinion by a wager,” should elect to bet,
that not even one rap upon a table, ascribed to spiritual force, has ever been really
caused by any other agency than that of a fraudulent “ medium.”

On the subject of “spirit” photographs, however, I am happy to say that I
do feel a satisfactory degree of certainty. There may be, for aught I know, disem-
bodied spirits. I do not know that disembodied spirits, if they exist, have not
the power of making themselves visible. A visible spirit could be photographed
as well as anything else. But nobody pretended to see the spirits that Mumler
pretended to photograph. The idea that an object not luminous enough to form
an image on the retina, could reflect rays of light sufficiently strong to decompose
photographic chemicals, is one of which the suggestion must make Credulity
itself exclaim, “Walker! ” and can hardly, perhaps, be seriously entertained even
by Mr. Howitt.

Of course, spirit-photographs are all humbug; but the ability to give a reason
for the disbelief that is in us, of anything how contrary soever to common sense,
appears desirable to your humble servant,

Thomas Street, Dubersome Square. Pyrrho.

Logic of the Ladies’ Gallery Question.

The principle on ■which ladies are screened off by a grating in the House of
Commons is much the same as that whereon negroes are restricted to nigger-
cars on railways in the United States. Therefore—understand intervening premisses
—the grating of the Ladies’ Gallery ought to be abolished.

But the negroes in the United States are not too beautiful, whereas the ladies
in. England are. Therefore the grating ought to be retained.

an early separation.

When Lilian (in a novel) promises her beseeching Alfred that she will share
nis home “ one day,” are we to understand that she intends to leave him at the
expiration of twenty-four hours ?

A PLEA POP THE PRETTY BIRDS
(IN THE CAGE).

{See Debate on Thursday, June 17.)

“Take down the cage,” stout Herbert cried—
“ Whose gilt and guilty wires
Kise, like a nursery screen, to hide
The bright eyes and fair cheeks inside,

And guard us from their fires.

“ Say, are we children, to make known
That we dare not defy.

The fairest rose on cheek e’er blown,

The brightest stars that ever shone
In beauty’s galaxy ?

“ In times of chivalry, what knight
In tilt or tourney rode,

But in the glad and glowing light
Flamed from the eyes of ladyes bright,

Whose hand the prize bestowed ?

“ Why should not we, knights of the shire,

Or burgesses that be,

For grace of our tongue-tilt, conspire
Out of yon cage of gilded wire
Our lady-birds to free ?

“ Oh, for the voice of mighty Mill,

The darlings’ cause to plead i
In words that burn, and tones that thrill.

To prove that woman’s wit and will
This House, and all, should lead !

“ What influence ladyes’ smiles and sighs
Might shoot to tongue and brain ! —

What thinkers, speakers, then might rise,

The raptured Speaker’s wandering eyes
To call to earth again !

“ What bach’lor eloquence might flow,

A witching bride to win :

How married wit would wittier grow,

With a ‘wives’ ’ jury in a row,

The ladies’ box within !

“ How they who with the public cash
Now recklessly make play,

Would pause, if hard-pinched wives could dasn
Cold water on expenses rash,

And whisper, ‘ Who’s to pay F ’

“ How trimmers would from trimming cease,
When the fair ones hailed the true !

How smiles and frowns would whips release
Until divisions knew decrease.

And parties blent their hue !

“ In short, from woman’s presence dear.

What single ill could flow —

Unless, it be that we need fear,

We should be up there, not down here,

And vote debating slow ? ”

A Stake in the Country.—In the Hedge.