Punch: Punch (17.1849)

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

21

christened in good English, instead of that broad Scotch. The inha-
bitants of these mountains, we are told, already perpetrate puns. Let
us hope these poor misguided people will soon see the error of their
ways, and strive to become civilised members of the community, and
do yreatpr honour to the proud name they bear.

CONGRATULATORY ODE TO THE FRENCH ON THEIR
TRIUMPH AT ROME.

Brave citizens of Prance, proclaim a. fete,

Por you have laid the Roman Eagle low;
With pomp and pageant, therefore, celebrate

Your glorious triumph o'er a stronger foe ;
Stronger in cause—in justice and in right—

A vast advantage ; out availing not
When match'd against the more substantial might

Of rifle-bullet, rocket, sheD, and shot.

By patriotic ardour long repell'd,

lour warlike banner still ye dared advance ;
Numbers and skill alone your hopes upheld,

Yet victory has crown'd the brow of Prance ;
You should exult, then, o'er the prostrate Pree ;

Yes, ye should glory o'er the vanquish'd Brave,
As might the victors at Thermopylae

Have held their orgies on the Spartans' grave.

Oh valiant Ottdinot ! Courageous band,

In whom Rome's awful walls awoke no dread,—
Those walls by Preedom's living warriors mann'd,

And watch'd by spirits of the mighty dead—
Honour to you, ye brave ! Prom sire to son

Your fame to latest ages handed down,
Divide the glory of the Goth and Hun;

Share Alaric's and Attila's renown.

Come, sing aloud the Marseillaise with glee,

Por tyranny by Prenchmen's aid restored ;
Raise ye the strain, "Mourirpour lapatrie"

On having smitten patriots with the sword :
Come, ye sincere republicans of France,

Come forth, whilst crackers bounce and cannons boom,
Around your Trees of Liberty to dance,

And trample on the liberty of Rome.

HE WON'T BE BEAT.

Some people are fond of having the last word, but Da. Reid, the
great ventilator, will assuredly not be satisfied unless he can have the
last blow. He has actually petitioned the House of Commons in favour
of his system. We cannot wonder at the coolness of a gentleman who
lives in sucii a frosty world as Dr. Reid has chosen to make " a world
of his own;" but the idea of petitioning the very assembly, against
which he has been dealing his " heavy blows and great discouragements"
for the last two or three years, and soliciting the sufferers from the
system to sanction its re-adoption, is really preposterous. Dr. Reid's
ventilation has been so frequently denounced by Members of the
Commons, that, unless they have learned from him how to blow hot
and cold, they cannot turn round and give it their patronage. We
should be delighted to give Dr. Reid a fan chance, but we cannot
stand tamely by and see the British Legislature deliberately blown to
shivers by his windy processes.

MR. DISRAELI'S GREAT FEATURE.

<< 'Y

The great feature of the day," says Mr. Disraeli, "is perplexity
and inability." Really, if we had been asked for a definition of the long
speech, of which the above forms a part, upon the State of the Nation,
we doubt if we could have said anything better than

" The great feature of Mb. Disraeli's speech is perplexity and inability."

We scarcely know, in fact, which abounds most.

The great remedy for the above state of things is, "Elect Mr. Disbaeli
Prime Minister;" such a remedy, we are sadly afraid, would only
increase the "perplexity," and establish still more clearly the "inability,"
of the honourable gentleman, who so modestly proposes himself' as
Premier of England.

By-the-by, if any one had questioned us as to what was Mr. Disraeli's
" great feature," we certainly should say, looking at the result of all
"Jus divisions, "Decidedly the Noes;" it is prominent in everything to
which be has given his countenance

rothschild for ever !

INTELLIGENCE OE THE PEOPLE.

When there is a talk of any Extension of the Suffrage, it is naturally
enough usual to inquii-e how far the Intelligence of the People would
justify their being entrusted
with the right of voting for
Members of Parliament. As
far as the amount of intel-
ligence can be gathered from
the conduct of the people at
public meetings of a political
character, we regret to say
the account is somewhat beg-
garly. The late election for
the City of London presented
a very poor result with re-
ference to the wisdom of the
masses, who had nothing
better than bellowing and
roaring to offer, by way of
criticism, on the merits of the respective candidates. One of our staff
of private reporters attended at the nomination, but he was compelled

to furnish us with a pictorial
sketch of the proceedings,
which consisted of the emis-
sion, from several hundred
open mouths, of a quantify of
"sound and fury, signifying
nothing." Nothing else was-
audible during the attempts'
of Lord John Manners to
address the multitude, whose
intelligence never reached
beyond such a remark as " Go
home, ' " It won't do here,"
or some other observation o
about equal profundity. Such
ejaculations do not say very
much for the sagacity of the-,
people from whom they
emanate, and who can scarcely lay claim to a voice in the representation,
when the only use to which the voice appears to be put is such as the
election for the City of London has just exemplified.

THE CRY OF THE STATION CLERKS.

We have often pitied the fate of the unfortunate Station Clerk,
doomed to fill up the intervals between the arrivals of the different
trains, by starting off in a train of thought, or to amuse his leisure by
listening to the porter's account of luggage and parcels to be forwarded
—a branch of Porter's Statistics which must be remarkably devoid of
interest.

For the Station Clerk the only excitement is the arrival and departure
of the up and down tram—the only phase, by the way, of the ups and
downs of life with which he has an opportunity of becoming familiar.
Prom year's end to year's end he must be at his post, with nothing to
vary his dull routine, unless a collision happens to give a little life to
the scene, by causing the death of a few passengers. Sometimes he may
be allowed a little bit of garden where he grows some half peck of peas
in the course of the year, until some rude engine, rushing off the rails,
crushes the tender plant with its rude tender.

The Hermit of Vauxhall is a joyous reveller compared with the
Railway Station Clerk, in some remote places on a line (like some of
those on the South Eastern, for example) where the traveller never
stops, and whose names are almost unknown to the most acute of
geographers. There is a victim at Pluckley, and another at Eden-
bridge, whose seclusion is only interrupted by the shriek of the whistle,
and the useless stoppage of the train to put down an ideal passenger,
who never alights, or to take up some phantom wayfarer, who never
makes his appearance.

We have heard a great deal about the horrors of the Solitary System
as applied to criminals, but how much worse is it to visit such a system
upon the innocent Railway Station Clerks ! To add to the miseries of
their condition, they have no respite from that fate, but are compelled
to remain perpetually at their posts without a holiday.

An effort is being made to obtain for them this boon, and we, who are
strong adherents of the maxim that " All work and no play makes Jack
a dull boy," having also an inherent hatred of dulness, shall be glad to
lend our aid to the oppressed Station Clerks in their very reasonable
demand for a holiday.