Punch (8.1845)

191 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

THE QUEEN AT DRURY LANE.

Dear Bunn,

The Queen visited you last week, on which occasion, I perceive,
you raised your prices. Very right. Yours is the proper kind of loyalty,
and therefore you make money by it. Besides, it must be so gratifying to
Her Majesty to learn that she is made a show of—that royalty is
exhibited at so much a head to its loving subjects. I hope Madame
Tussaud will take the hint from you, and for a time at least raise her
prices of admission on every new accession of royalty. As you sing in
your own beautiful verse—

" When hollow hearts shall wear a mask,''

it may be very proper for the said hearts to sham loyalty,—but your's is
the true thing : there is no mistaking your love for the throne, since you
have the extra shillings and sixpences to show for it.

Yours,

P.S.—What a simpleton was Macready ! He never changed his
prices. But then Macready is a Whig, and " something more."

ANALYSIS OF THE MAYNOOTH DIVISION.

The Times has furnished an analysis of the Maynooth Division, founded
on the alleged political creeds of those who voted, but we humbly beg to
suggest that in these days it is quite impossible to make any calculation on
such very uncertain data as a Member of Parliament's politics. Conser-
vatives, Whigs, and Radicals are now mixed up in as great a jumble as a
pack of cards immediately after what is called a good shuffling, and there
has been so much political shuffling of late that it would be very difficult
to get the pack sorted as it formerly used to be. Perhaps the shorter
method of division would be into trumps, court cards, and knaves—or
jacks-in-office—which are the principal means employed in the ordinary
tricks of politics.

At all events the divisions into Conservative and Whig are becoming
almost as obsolete as Ministerial and Anti-Ministerial. There should be a
class of Would-if-they-coulds, to represent the Young Englanders, and, to
return to the simile of the cards, the sixes and sevens might very
appropriately typify the Tory party.

Cure of Pauper Souls.

The Aylesbury Board of Guardians have reduced the salary of the
Union Chaplain, Mr. Gleadah, from 20/. to 10/. This is prudent and
economic. It is well known that pauper souls—unlike the souls of the
rich and respectable, that require especial care — may be cured, like
herrings, by the thousand. Hence, Mr. Gleadah is expected to cure
wholesale, and is paid accordingly !

A DESIGN FOR A STATUE OF THE BRITISH LION,

by sir culling eardley smith.

ADDING INSULT TO INJURY.

Omnibus Driver.—Now then, stupid ! where are you coming to ?

A RHYME AND A REASON.

Why are the houses at the Albert gate
Like to the fort at Acre long unshaken

Because it is as sure almost as fate
That it will be some time before they 're taken.

Sfje lEnglisf) Press.

Mr Punch,

Being a journalist, I am not a gentleman—the Post says so.
Of course I venture not to repine. A Pariah, blackened by printers' ink,
I meekly surrender my nose to be pulled by any of the nobility and gentry
so inclined. I shall not even grease it, lest the unguent soil kid gloves. I
am also ready to be kicked. It is my duty. I am a humble man. Loving
my duty, I like to be kicked

A poor despicable creature, I belong to that miserable set who sway
the mind of Britain. What, then, should I look for but insult, contempt,
foul names? I submit to be called a liar. I will publish it in my own
paper, if any gentleman wishes it. What am I that I should set myself
against a gentleman's whims !

I pretend to no sense of honour - to no emotion of manhood. I and my
brethren were only made to crouch like beaten hounds beneath the lash
of any Honourable'or Right Honourable Gent., who may do us the honour
to flog us.

We do not pretend to enter into respectable society ; we hope we are
not so presumptuous—God forbid ! We know our place better. With
deep reverence do we bow to County Members. Most serf-like do we
crouch before anything like the shadow of a lord. We resent not the
sneer of the aristocrat—no, nor of the parvenu—no, nor of any man who
chooses to sneer at us. All may do it, and welcome. Our nature is to
endure, our mission to stoop—to stoop, not to conquer.

Humbly avowing this—with bated breath whimpering forth my meek
unworthiness —I venture to apprize the nobility, gentry, and my patrons
in general, that, should any one wish to insult me, 1 shall repair bare-
foot to his honourable dwelling, at any hour he may propose for ths
purpose.

Yours, Mr. Punch,