DOI issue:
July to December, 1851
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16608#0234
PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
223
THE LAST IRISH GRIEVANCE.
N reading of the general
indignation occasioned in
Ireland by the appoint-
ment of a Scotch Professor
to one of Her Majesty's
Godless Colleges, Master
Molloy Molony, brother
of Thaddeus Molony,
Esq., of the Temple, a
youth only fifteen years of
age, dashed off the follow-
ing spirited lines:—
As I think of the insult that's
done to this nation,
Red tears of rivinge
from me faytures
I wash,
And uphold in this
pome, to the
world's daytista-
tion,
The sleeves that ap-
pointed Profes-
sor M'Cosh.
I look round me counthree, renowned by exparience,
And see, midst her childthren, the witty, the wise,—
Whole hayps of logicians, potes, schollars, grammarians,
All ayger for pleeces, all panting to rise;
I gaze round the world in its utmost diminsion ;
Lard Jahn and his minions in Council I ask,
Was there ever a Government-pleece (with a pinsion)
But children of Erin were fit for that task ?
What, Erin beloved, is thy fetal condition ?
^ What shame in aych boosom must rankle and burrun,
To think that our countree has ne'er a logician
In the hour of her deenger will surrev her turrun !
On the logic of Saxons there's little reliance,
And, rather from Saxons than gather its rules,
I'd stamp under leet the base book of his science,
And spit on his chair as he taught in the schools !
0, False Sir John Kane ! is it thus that you praych me ?
I think all your Queen's Universitees Bosh;
And if you've no neetive Professor to taych me,
I scawurn to be learned by the Saxon M'Cosh.
There's Wiseman, and Chume, and His Grace the Lord Primate,
That sinds round the box, and the world will subscribe;
'Tis they'll build a College that's fit for our climate,
And taych me the saycrets I burn to imboibe!
'Tis there as a Student of Science I '11 enther,
Fair Fountain of Knowledge, of Joy, and Contint!
Saint Pathrick's sweet Statue shall stand in the centher,
And wink his dear oi every day during Lint.
And good Doctor Newman, that pravcher unwary,
'Tis he shall preside the Academee School,
And quit the gay robe of St. Philip of Neri,
To wield the soft rod of St. Lawrence O'Toole !
'Tis distance lends Enchantment.
We have not yet learned who is the fortunate holder of the great prize
that was to be drawn a day or two ago, in the Great French Lottery of
the Ingots of Gold. There is, however, this consolation for the disap-
pointed,—that it is in the power of the whole six million, nine hundred
iH? ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine, who do not
get the prize, to embarrass the lucky one who does, by demanding a
scrutiny. The money will, of course, remain in abeyance until the process
of scrutinising each ticket is completed.
legal intelligence.
*• ?ujR ^riencf Briefless recommends, as the Cape is in a very dissa-
tisfied state, that Sir Harry Smith should immediately be served
with a Writ of Capias ad Satisfaciendum—and, if he won't accept the
military service, that he should be recalled, as grossly incompetent to
Satisfy the Cape!
OUE POST BAG.
Punch has been favoured with a large batch of communications
sealed with every species of heraldic device, and containing apologies
for the absence, so much complained of, of the " upper classes " from the
demonstrations in favour of Kossuth. When the great Hungarian
knows the many important duties which devolve on our " higher
orders," he will, we feel sure, be the first to excuse them.
AO. 1.
" The Earl of Belderton presents his compliments to Mr. Punch,
and begs to direct his attention to the enclosed paragraph."
The "paragraph," thus laconically pointed out to our notice,
announces the meet of the Scrambly Hunt at Gorse End. So goes
one batch of sympathisers away—across country.
Mo. 2 is a dashing, flippant little note ; as follows :—
" Dear Punch,—If you would d#op your confounded sympathies
with Justice and Freedom, and that kind of thing, you would be a
devilish deal more amusing. How can I attend to Kosshoot (sic)
when Charley B. wants me over at Paris to see his Bustard eat
ten Guinea Pigs; and I 've got to raise money before I start ?
"Beardley de Cass."
The next note we come to is marked " Confidential," but we have
more pluck than the writer, and print it, regardless of his feelings.
He would be a very good fellow, if he dared. His seal bears, quarterly,
first and fourth arg., a chevron between three trivets, sa.; second and
third, a fess dancettee. A most respectable bearing!
" My Dear Sir,—You ask me why I did not come up from Harrowby,
and see Kossuth, and attend one of his meetings. Between ourselves,
he's a very fine fellow, plucky, and eloquent—as anybody can see
in a twinkling. And really these Austrians are a set of" (here a word
is rigidly erased)—"I mean not the men I like—not such men as my
ancestor in 1688, who came up to town to back old Somers and Sunder-
land, and so on. Then, fancy what a figure any of us would make hold-
ing forth in Hungarian! But then there's a grandmother of mine,
and there's my aunt—and—and is not Kossuth somehow mixed up
with the Socialists, and the first French Revolution, and so on ?
" Yours very truly,
a _____ _)i
"P.S.—Does Bronterre O'Brien belong to the Thomond family ?"
No. 4 appears to be written by a quiet antiquarian gentleman, who
informs us that he is of the Bendles of Bendle, and is claiming the
old barony of Tubton. He passes his life among the Becord offices
and Collections of wills in the empire. We are sorry that we cannot
answer his final question with regard to the marriage of Matilda de
Bilboes with one of the Montmorencys in 1381.
We pass over such ordinary apologies as gout, weather, and the
" wretched state of agricultural affairs." One gentleman is preserving
his game; another, is building a church for a Puseyite; a third, is looking
after the next election; a fourth, administering justice; a fifth, adding a
wing to the family mansion; a sixth, paying his son's College debts. We
are desirous of taking a charitable view of these various excuses. And,
after all, it has been a very good shooting season !
ST. ALB AN AND HIS FLOCK.
St. Alban's Agricultural Show has been largely attended. Among
the company several persons of political notoriety were daily observed.
The main attraction was that portion of the live stock generally famous
—if we may use the expression—as St. Alban's black sheep. The
Coppock breed attracted great notice, and the Edwards variety was
scanned with eager interest. The attention of the visitors, however,
was chiefly concentrated on the sixty-year-old prize ram Waggett,
exhibited after pasture on the coast of Boulogne. The animals were
quoted at from £5 to £10 a-head, but it is believed that they will be
worth little or nothing when shorn, as they are expected to be next
Session; for they are known to be so much eaten up by the rot as to
be, in fact, little better internally than a mass of corruption.
Useless Timber of the Colonial Office.
Dr. Hodgkin, at the meeting of the Aborigines and Peace Societies,
is reported to have stated, that the Caffres say to the British, " Send us
your sticks, and we will obey them, instead of bringing your troops."
This is not fair to Downing Street. Has Lord Grey ever sent to the
Cape of Good Hope, or to our other colonies, any rulers but Sticks ?
Moral Maxim for Emigrants.—A Sovereign in the hand is worth
a lump of gold in the Bush. •
223
THE LAST IRISH GRIEVANCE.
N reading of the general
indignation occasioned in
Ireland by the appoint-
ment of a Scotch Professor
to one of Her Majesty's
Godless Colleges, Master
Molloy Molony, brother
of Thaddeus Molony,
Esq., of the Temple, a
youth only fifteen years of
age, dashed off the follow-
ing spirited lines:—
As I think of the insult that's
done to this nation,
Red tears of rivinge
from me faytures
I wash,
And uphold in this
pome, to the
world's daytista-
tion,
The sleeves that ap-
pointed Profes-
sor M'Cosh.
I look round me counthree, renowned by exparience,
And see, midst her childthren, the witty, the wise,—
Whole hayps of logicians, potes, schollars, grammarians,
All ayger for pleeces, all panting to rise;
I gaze round the world in its utmost diminsion ;
Lard Jahn and his minions in Council I ask,
Was there ever a Government-pleece (with a pinsion)
But children of Erin were fit for that task ?
What, Erin beloved, is thy fetal condition ?
^ What shame in aych boosom must rankle and burrun,
To think that our countree has ne'er a logician
In the hour of her deenger will surrev her turrun !
On the logic of Saxons there's little reliance,
And, rather from Saxons than gather its rules,
I'd stamp under leet the base book of his science,
And spit on his chair as he taught in the schools !
0, False Sir John Kane ! is it thus that you praych me ?
I think all your Queen's Universitees Bosh;
And if you've no neetive Professor to taych me,
I scawurn to be learned by the Saxon M'Cosh.
There's Wiseman, and Chume, and His Grace the Lord Primate,
That sinds round the box, and the world will subscribe;
'Tis they'll build a College that's fit for our climate,
And taych me the saycrets I burn to imboibe!
'Tis there as a Student of Science I '11 enther,
Fair Fountain of Knowledge, of Joy, and Contint!
Saint Pathrick's sweet Statue shall stand in the centher,
And wink his dear oi every day during Lint.
And good Doctor Newman, that pravcher unwary,
'Tis he shall preside the Academee School,
And quit the gay robe of St. Philip of Neri,
To wield the soft rod of St. Lawrence O'Toole !
'Tis distance lends Enchantment.
We have not yet learned who is the fortunate holder of the great prize
that was to be drawn a day or two ago, in the Great French Lottery of
the Ingots of Gold. There is, however, this consolation for the disap-
pointed,—that it is in the power of the whole six million, nine hundred
iH? ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine, who do not
get the prize, to embarrass the lucky one who does, by demanding a
scrutiny. The money will, of course, remain in abeyance until the process
of scrutinising each ticket is completed.
legal intelligence.
*• ?ujR ^riencf Briefless recommends, as the Cape is in a very dissa-
tisfied state, that Sir Harry Smith should immediately be served
with a Writ of Capias ad Satisfaciendum—and, if he won't accept the
military service, that he should be recalled, as grossly incompetent to
Satisfy the Cape!
OUE POST BAG.
Punch has been favoured with a large batch of communications
sealed with every species of heraldic device, and containing apologies
for the absence, so much complained of, of the " upper classes " from the
demonstrations in favour of Kossuth. When the great Hungarian
knows the many important duties which devolve on our " higher
orders," he will, we feel sure, be the first to excuse them.
AO. 1.
" The Earl of Belderton presents his compliments to Mr. Punch,
and begs to direct his attention to the enclosed paragraph."
The "paragraph," thus laconically pointed out to our notice,
announces the meet of the Scrambly Hunt at Gorse End. So goes
one batch of sympathisers away—across country.
Mo. 2 is a dashing, flippant little note ; as follows :—
" Dear Punch,—If you would d#op your confounded sympathies
with Justice and Freedom, and that kind of thing, you would be a
devilish deal more amusing. How can I attend to Kosshoot (sic)
when Charley B. wants me over at Paris to see his Bustard eat
ten Guinea Pigs; and I 've got to raise money before I start ?
"Beardley de Cass."
The next note we come to is marked " Confidential," but we have
more pluck than the writer, and print it, regardless of his feelings.
He would be a very good fellow, if he dared. His seal bears, quarterly,
first and fourth arg., a chevron between three trivets, sa.; second and
third, a fess dancettee. A most respectable bearing!
" My Dear Sir,—You ask me why I did not come up from Harrowby,
and see Kossuth, and attend one of his meetings. Between ourselves,
he's a very fine fellow, plucky, and eloquent—as anybody can see
in a twinkling. And really these Austrians are a set of" (here a word
is rigidly erased)—"I mean not the men I like—not such men as my
ancestor in 1688, who came up to town to back old Somers and Sunder-
land, and so on. Then, fancy what a figure any of us would make hold-
ing forth in Hungarian! But then there's a grandmother of mine,
and there's my aunt—and—and is not Kossuth somehow mixed up
with the Socialists, and the first French Revolution, and so on ?
" Yours very truly,
a _____ _)i
"P.S.—Does Bronterre O'Brien belong to the Thomond family ?"
No. 4 appears to be written by a quiet antiquarian gentleman, who
informs us that he is of the Bendles of Bendle, and is claiming the
old barony of Tubton. He passes his life among the Becord offices
and Collections of wills in the empire. We are sorry that we cannot
answer his final question with regard to the marriage of Matilda de
Bilboes with one of the Montmorencys in 1381.
We pass over such ordinary apologies as gout, weather, and the
" wretched state of agricultural affairs." One gentleman is preserving
his game; another, is building a church for a Puseyite; a third, is looking
after the next election; a fourth, administering justice; a fifth, adding a
wing to the family mansion; a sixth, paying his son's College debts. We
are desirous of taking a charitable view of these various excuses. And,
after all, it has been a very good shooting season !
ST. ALB AN AND HIS FLOCK.
St. Alban's Agricultural Show has been largely attended. Among
the company several persons of political notoriety were daily observed.
The main attraction was that portion of the live stock generally famous
—if we may use the expression—as St. Alban's black sheep. The
Coppock breed attracted great notice, and the Edwards variety was
scanned with eager interest. The attention of the visitors, however,
was chiefly concentrated on the sixty-year-old prize ram Waggett,
exhibited after pasture on the coast of Boulogne. The animals were
quoted at from £5 to £10 a-head, but it is believed that they will be
worth little or nothing when shorn, as they are expected to be next
Session; for they are known to be so much eaten up by the rot as to
be, in fact, little better internally than a mass of corruption.
Useless Timber of the Colonial Office.
Dr. Hodgkin, at the meeting of the Aborigines and Peace Societies,
is reported to have stated, that the Caffres say to the British, " Send us
your sticks, and we will obey them, instead of bringing your troops."
This is not fair to Downing Street. Has Lord Grey ever sent to the
Cape of Good Hope, or to our other colonies, any rulers but Sticks ?
Moral Maxim for Emigrants.—A Sovereign in the hand is worth
a lump of gold in the Bush. •