Punch (8.1845)

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

1J1

I cannot use the rubric as a singer uses a fashionable piece of music,
GRATTAN THE GOOSE. executing it after his " own sweet will." He must have learned that

! the people of England, as a body, reject the pulpit puppyism of
ver and anon, Mr. Grattan, of the j certain young parsons, and will not have a Protestant Church
Conciliation Hall, reminds us of the assimilated to a playhouse. With this conviction let Exeter
lion's-head that frequently adorns a return to his old benevolent ways. Let him, as heretofore, visit the
letter-box. He has a fierce look— —COunsel the ignorant—relieve the poor ; and once again make
has his mouth always agape, with his name melodious to the spirit of hop»ful humanity, throughout
really nothing coming out of it. The \nrge, luxurious diocese. The Bishop has done enough for

following is one of his latest nothings, notoriety, and may now consent to be merely useful.
He said O'Connell " had been
taunted for not appearing in his
place in Parliament; but he who hod
shoulders strong enough to bear the -weight
of monarc/is, could hardly feel the
weight of those pigmy dwarfs who
might perch upon him."

A capital phrase, that, " pigmy
dwarfs !" But then, no man can

We have already, on previous occasions, expressed our opinion ou the
rapid increase of beadledom in th s great metropolis ; and as Rome may
be said to be priest-ridden, it is to be feared that London may in time
become beadle-ridden to an extent we hardly dare to contemplate.

better employ the tautology of smallness than Mr. Grattan. That j It is now, alas ! too late to talk of crushing beadledom in the bud, for

THE PROGRESS OF BEADLEDOM.

the Irish Members should, ip the greatness of their sulks, keep away
from Parliament, reminds us of the magnanimity of the idiot, quoted
by Johnson, who when sorely offended—went out and slept upon
the bridge all night.

THE BISHOP OF EXETER QUESTION,

We have a Condition of England Question—an Anti-Corn Law
Question—a Sugar Question, and by way of opposite to the last—a
Bishop of Exeter Question. For many months has the apostle of

Dishopstowe had half the newspapers to himself. Day after day j But broad beadledom, which does not shun the light of day, beadledom

beadledom has already blossomed. We may prune, clip, train, nail up,
and cut down, but we can never—no, never—eradicate. But while we say
we never can eradicate, we don't know that we would if we could, nor, if
we could and would, are we sure that we ought : so that, if we really
might, we absolutely shouldn't.

Beadledom in a mild form, like medicine in a moderate dose, may be
productive of good : nor do we think that the British Constitution is
likely to suffer from it. There is no doubt that it is an oligarchy to a
certain extent, though in the Burlington Arcade and the Quadrant it has
assumed the duarchical form, which is perhaps more suitable to the
habits of a western people educated under an occidental sun, and
brought up, as it were, in the lap of a comparatively distant hemisphere.

have his lawn sleeves quite overlaid the Times. Within this week or ' which rears its brass-knobbed bludgeon in the very face of the people,
two, however, the meek and pious prelate has taken " a more retired may be guarded against, and, if necessary, opposed. No, no, it is not

ground." He has somewhat modestly withdrawn himself from pub
lie attention, and has humbly vouchsafed to swallow his own letters.
Verily, as the Persians say, he hath eaten much dirt. The recent
motion of LordFortescue touching the rubric has, however, brought

that which sets our waistcoat swelling up and down in harmony with the
throbbing bosom. It is insidious beadledom that causes the eye to wink,
the lip to curl, the hair to shoot up on end, and the brow to do a bit of
indignant knitting. It is beadledom that lurks in the veins of the metro-

,, t,. , . , . , t> v tL„ i n ■ «__' l t ™j n polis, afraid to show itself in the arteries. It is beadledom that pops out

up the Bishop in his place in Parliament. Being " a spiritual Lord, F ' . c , , . ... F\-i

, y ,, r , \ , ... , 1t8 j;-r, xt I upon us in an unfrequented spot, when we least expected to encounter it.

he would not acknowledge, as a tribunal, the House of Peers Not- ^ bea(]ledom ^ ]ace J t£e hat and ie^m in the hand with a

withstanding, he condescended to inform their Lordships that their j cane in the clutch and „ smile upon the countenance. Such is the

political existence was dependent upon the rigid observance of the
rubric. He said,

" In three year? from the time when the liturgy was abolished (in 1641), the House of
Lords itself was done aivay, for that was effected by a vote of the other House. I do
not venture, my Lords, to look forward to any such result in the present time, but
neither will I take upon myself to assert that such an extent of mischief may not here-
after arise."

So vitally connected with the surplice and offertory is the House
of Lords. Touch the rubric, and down fall the peers !

The Bishop of Norwich denied that the Bishops were under a
stringent vow to obey the rubric : if it were so, " they must have
the whole rubric, and nothing but the rubric." There were parts of
the rubric which they could obey, and did not: they had no right to
make such a choice. The Bishop of London thought otherwise—
doubtless, with a full recollection of his Tottenham vagaries.

Lord Brougham, of course, manifested great sympathy for the
Bishop of Exeter. The Right Reverend Prelate has been too
long the cause and centre of unmeaning hubbub, not to awaken the
admiration of a kindred spirit. His Lordship said, " As a son of the
church, of which the Right Reverend Prelate is a father, he hoped all
discussion on the matter would end." We hope so too ; merely
observing that, in the case of Brougham and Exeter, we think the
child quite worthy of the parent.

Indeed, we trust that this wretched and unmeaning contest is over.
By this time the Bishop of Exeter must have discovered that he

beadledom that has just darted upon us from the new Arcade on the site
formerly occupied by Exeter 'Change—the home and the grave of the ill-
starred Chunee. This spot, where tbe hyaena once grinned, and where the
ant-eater once ate his ants, is now the soil of beadledom.

It is true that nobody passes down the new Arcade, and the bamboo
hand of tyranny has nothing to fall upon, at least at present. Let us hope
that the isolated despot, the monarch of all he surveys—and of all the
architect of the Arcade has surveyed also—may have learnt the virtue of
forbearance before he is called upon to taste the cup or quaff the pint-pot
■—of power.

ROEBUCK'S LONG RANGE.

Mr. Roebuck — commonly known among his intimates as the Bath
Brick—has been firing a broadside at the Irish Members on account of
them being absent, which is certainly not a very valiant reason for
attacking them. Some have been known to take the opportunity of hitting
a man when he happens to be down, and it is in a somewhat similar spirit
no doubt that Mr. Roebuck makes his onslaught on the Irish members
directly he finds that their backs are turned. It is easy to be courageous
with the ocean lying between one's-self and the enemy, but possibly wheu
the distance diminishes between Mr. Roebuck and the Irish members,
the valour of the former will get " small by degrees, and beautifully less,"
till at last it dwindles into a point which will be about the exact amount of
the Bath Brick's bravery.

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