DOI issue:
January to June, 1845
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16521#0102
106
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
THE POETRY OF WORSTED.
The two last acts were almost intolerably nauseous, for the actor
whose talent only added to the repulsive character of the perfor fi-
ance, kept arsenic constantly in view by the truthful but disgusting
picture he gave of a man walking about under its deadly influence.
The trashy absurdity of the affair, now and then, roused one from any
sense of its reality ; and the idea of an invalid lying in his bed, with
a green bottle placed near a light so as to throw a deadly hue on
his features, was truly refreshing, for it brought to one's recollection
that it was only dramatic poison we were being dosed with.
The production of La Dame de Saint Trupez is a mistake which
Ma. Mitchell had better make haste to rectify.
THE SENSITIVE MEMBER.
Mr. Muntz, in the course of the letter debate uu Friday last,
" assured the House that he had not yet recovered irom the feeling
that he experienced when he was told of the practice of opening letters
at the Post Office!" Since this intimation having been given, the
honourable Member's residence has been besieged by persons inquiring
into the state of his health, and it has been thought advisable to issue
the following bulletins :—
Saturday Morning.—Ma. Muntz is still in a very nervous state, and
; goes into hysterics whenever he hears a postman's knock. His medical
attendants have ordered everything to be removed from his sight that
might remind him in any way of the subject of letters. An attendant
unfortunately caused a relapse by leaving a wafer stamp in the honourable
member's inkstand, which threw him into a severe fit of shivers.
Saturday Afternoon.—Ma. Muntz continues much the same. He shed
| tears copiously over a packet of envelopes, which gave him temporary
It is not often that we notice matters connected with the Fine Arts, 1 relief, but all his former symptoms returned on seeing the general post-
but we cannot omit the opportunity of -nticising a portrait of Trotty j mau pass the window. His forehead having been drenched with eau de
Veck, done in colours, after the original design of Leech, and intended , Cologne, he slightly rallied.
to form one of a series of illustrated holders for tea-kettles. We are not ; Saturday Night.—Mb.. Muntz read an article in the Metropolitan
aware to whose needle we are indebted for the work before us, but the j Magazine, and had some refreshing sleep. He, however, woke just before
handling of the different coloured worsteds reminds us a good deal of
Etty.
The artist has not been happy in the apron, which has too much
repose, and is, in fact, toned down so as to be quite out of keeping with bulletins will be issued
the skirts of the coat, which seem to be fluttering in the breeze, and are '
full of what may be called the poetry of motion. The eye would have
been better for less worsted and more expression, while there is a fulness
in the mouth, which arises from the artist having overcrowded it with
colour, and used his needle somewhat lavishly. As an attempt, however,
to bring art home to our hearths, by fixing it on. our tea-kettles, the work
before us deserves to be encouraged, and will take its place by the side of
the cats and baskets of flowers with which our pictorial rugs have ren-
dered us familiar.
midnight from a fearful dream, in which, as he told his attendant, he
fancied that he was being suffocated iu a letter-box.
Monday Morning.—Mr. Muntz is considerably better, and no further
THE POPE.
PUNCH AT THE FRENCH PLAY.
We visited the St. James's Theatre a few evenings ago, when La
Dame de St. Tropez was acted to a very aristocratic audience. We
notice this drama as a specimen of the arsenicated literature which
is popular in France, and which we are not desirous of seeing popular
in England. Novels and dramas which make the undetected use of
arsenic their theme, ought not to be eneouraged in this country at a
moment when poisoning is being carried to an alarming extent, and
almost every newspaper contains a paragraph headed with the words
" Another death by arsenic." We cannot approve the taste of Ma.
Mitchell in submitting to his patrons at the St. James's Theatre
Bach a mass of nauseous stuff as La Dame de St. Tropez, which is no
less than a dramatized version of Madame Laefarge's own version
of the poisoning affair at Glandier. It seems to us almost as insulting
to the taste of his subscribers here as it would have been to his
Parisian patrons, had he taken over to France the old Coburg melo-
drama, founded on the murder of Thurtell, and engaged Ma. Hicks,
of the Surrey, to play the principal character.
Has Ma. Mitchell a higher estimate of French than he has of
English morality or taste, that he thinks an arsenic drama from one
of the Parisian minors will do very well for London, while nothing
short of SHAKSPEAaE and Ma. Macbeadv will be acceptable to
the superior judgment of the public of Paris \
La Dame de Saint Tropez which Ma. Mitchell gave his sub-
scribers as a bonne bouclie, is being played to the sixpenny gallery of
the Victoria, at the same time that it is being served up to the fifteen
shilling stalls of the St. James's. The latter must feel highly flattered
oy the compliment which the manager pays to their intellect, in
The Pope he leads a happy life,
No contradiction knows, nor strife ;
He rules the roast by Right Divine.
I would the Pap;il chair were mine !
But happy, now, I fear he's not,
Those Irish are a noisy lot;
And as with Dan he has to cope,
I think I'd rather not be Pope.
1 - »
O'Connell bettt r pleases me,
With all he will he maketh free
He raises rint with wondrous skiil;
Like him my pockets I would fib.
But even he, the great King Da*,
Is forced to sink the gentleman,
And bluster where Repealers dine ;
I would not change his lot for mine.
So here I '11 take my lowly stand,
In what is called " this favoured land ;
Put up with strife, if need be mine,
Nor at an empty purse repine.
But when my pocket's filled, with giee,
I '11 dream that I O'Connell be ;
And when their mouths Repealers ope,
1 '11 thank my stars I'm not the Pope.
Irish Agricultural Association.
In consequence of the declaration of Ma. O'Connell, that he would dit
on the floor of the House of Commons, and then go over to Ireland tc
agitate for repeal, there was an extra meeting of the Irish AgriculturaJ
Association, at which it was unanimously resolved that the first prize
should be given to the Honourable Member, for the Greatest Bull thai
ever was known.
ASTONISHING PRECOCITY.
A Charity Boy, only six years old, belonging to St. Martin's parish,
being asked by one of the overseers what was his notion of " perpetuity,*
the selection of the fare he provides for it. instantly replied, " The Income Tax."
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
THE POETRY OF WORSTED.
The two last acts were almost intolerably nauseous, for the actor
whose talent only added to the repulsive character of the perfor fi-
ance, kept arsenic constantly in view by the truthful but disgusting
picture he gave of a man walking about under its deadly influence.
The trashy absurdity of the affair, now and then, roused one from any
sense of its reality ; and the idea of an invalid lying in his bed, with
a green bottle placed near a light so as to throw a deadly hue on
his features, was truly refreshing, for it brought to one's recollection
that it was only dramatic poison we were being dosed with.
The production of La Dame de Saint Trupez is a mistake which
Ma. Mitchell had better make haste to rectify.
THE SENSITIVE MEMBER.
Mr. Muntz, in the course of the letter debate uu Friday last,
" assured the House that he had not yet recovered irom the feeling
that he experienced when he was told of the practice of opening letters
at the Post Office!" Since this intimation having been given, the
honourable Member's residence has been besieged by persons inquiring
into the state of his health, and it has been thought advisable to issue
the following bulletins :—
Saturday Morning.—Ma. Muntz is still in a very nervous state, and
; goes into hysterics whenever he hears a postman's knock. His medical
attendants have ordered everything to be removed from his sight that
might remind him in any way of the subject of letters. An attendant
unfortunately caused a relapse by leaving a wafer stamp in the honourable
member's inkstand, which threw him into a severe fit of shivers.
Saturday Afternoon.—Ma. Muntz continues much the same. He shed
| tears copiously over a packet of envelopes, which gave him temporary
It is not often that we notice matters connected with the Fine Arts, 1 relief, but all his former symptoms returned on seeing the general post-
but we cannot omit the opportunity of -nticising a portrait of Trotty j mau pass the window. His forehead having been drenched with eau de
Veck, done in colours, after the original design of Leech, and intended , Cologne, he slightly rallied.
to form one of a series of illustrated holders for tea-kettles. We are not ; Saturday Night.—Mb.. Muntz read an article in the Metropolitan
aware to whose needle we are indebted for the work before us, but the j Magazine, and had some refreshing sleep. He, however, woke just before
handling of the different coloured worsteds reminds us a good deal of
Etty.
The artist has not been happy in the apron, which has too much
repose, and is, in fact, toned down so as to be quite out of keeping with bulletins will be issued
the skirts of the coat, which seem to be fluttering in the breeze, and are '
full of what may be called the poetry of motion. The eye would have
been better for less worsted and more expression, while there is a fulness
in the mouth, which arises from the artist having overcrowded it with
colour, and used his needle somewhat lavishly. As an attempt, however,
to bring art home to our hearths, by fixing it on. our tea-kettles, the work
before us deserves to be encouraged, and will take its place by the side of
the cats and baskets of flowers with which our pictorial rugs have ren-
dered us familiar.
midnight from a fearful dream, in which, as he told his attendant, he
fancied that he was being suffocated iu a letter-box.
Monday Morning.—Mr. Muntz is considerably better, and no further
THE POPE.
PUNCH AT THE FRENCH PLAY.
We visited the St. James's Theatre a few evenings ago, when La
Dame de St. Tropez was acted to a very aristocratic audience. We
notice this drama as a specimen of the arsenicated literature which
is popular in France, and which we are not desirous of seeing popular
in England. Novels and dramas which make the undetected use of
arsenic their theme, ought not to be eneouraged in this country at a
moment when poisoning is being carried to an alarming extent, and
almost every newspaper contains a paragraph headed with the words
" Another death by arsenic." We cannot approve the taste of Ma.
Mitchell in submitting to his patrons at the St. James's Theatre
Bach a mass of nauseous stuff as La Dame de St. Tropez, which is no
less than a dramatized version of Madame Laefarge's own version
of the poisoning affair at Glandier. It seems to us almost as insulting
to the taste of his subscribers here as it would have been to his
Parisian patrons, had he taken over to France the old Coburg melo-
drama, founded on the murder of Thurtell, and engaged Ma. Hicks,
of the Surrey, to play the principal character.
Has Ma. Mitchell a higher estimate of French than he has of
English morality or taste, that he thinks an arsenic drama from one
of the Parisian minors will do very well for London, while nothing
short of SHAKSPEAaE and Ma. Macbeadv will be acceptable to
the superior judgment of the public of Paris \
La Dame de Saint Tropez which Ma. Mitchell gave his sub-
scribers as a bonne bouclie, is being played to the sixpenny gallery of
the Victoria, at the same time that it is being served up to the fifteen
shilling stalls of the St. James's. The latter must feel highly flattered
oy the compliment which the manager pays to their intellect, in
The Pope he leads a happy life,
No contradiction knows, nor strife ;
He rules the roast by Right Divine.
I would the Pap;il chair were mine !
But happy, now, I fear he's not,
Those Irish are a noisy lot;
And as with Dan he has to cope,
I think I'd rather not be Pope.
1 - »
O'Connell bettt r pleases me,
With all he will he maketh free
He raises rint with wondrous skiil;
Like him my pockets I would fib.
But even he, the great King Da*,
Is forced to sink the gentleman,
And bluster where Repealers dine ;
I would not change his lot for mine.
So here I '11 take my lowly stand,
In what is called " this favoured land ;
Put up with strife, if need be mine,
Nor at an empty purse repine.
But when my pocket's filled, with giee,
I '11 dream that I O'Connell be ;
And when their mouths Repealers ope,
1 '11 thank my stars I'm not the Pope.
Irish Agricultural Association.
In consequence of the declaration of Ma. O'Connell, that he would dit
on the floor of the House of Commons, and then go over to Ireland tc
agitate for repeal, there was an extra meeting of the Irish AgriculturaJ
Association, at which it was unanimously resolved that the first prize
should be given to the Honourable Member, for the Greatest Bull thai
ever was known.
ASTONISHING PRECOCITY.
A Charity Boy, only six years old, belonging to St. Martin's parish,
being asked by one of the overseers what was his notion of " perpetuity,*
the selection of the fare he provides for it. instantly replied, " The Income Tax."