DOI issue:
July to December, 1852
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16610#0053
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
HINTS TO YOUNG YACHTSMEN.
S the yachting season has com-
menced its brilliant course, it
becomes Mr. P's duty to give
a fillip to the aspirations of
young yachtsmen. If every one
of them who has ears, will only
hear—Mr. P. promises himself
no ordinary moral influence.
I will suppose you, my good
young boy, to be a promising
youth of some four-and-twenty,
desirous of being " somebody,"
which is your honourable Eng-
lish ambition. You are a man
of means. Your papa has a
house a little to the east of
Gower Street, and i« not disin-
clined to a little cAiravagance
on your part, provided it be "on
the square" (to use your own
expression), and indulged in re-
spectable company. You wish
to make for yourself a set. You
are right, then, in joining your-
self to some distinct section of
the great Sporting World, where
nothing will be expected of you
but good-nature and right con-
duct to your fellows, and suffi-
cient means. The last is your
governor's business, and I would
advise you to leave it to him.
To find the means being his peculiar department, don't you interfere with it, by trying it on
elsewhere. You may be tempted to do so by being shy about an application to him,
occasionally. But, be cautious. The myth (look out that word) of the Wandering Jew too
closely typifies the restless activity of the great Hebrew intellect. Many a pleasant fellow's
cup of life has been spoiled by the infusion of the " Semitic element" (see Life of Bentinck).
Perhaps, after all, the sea is the best field—if it can be called a field —for your young
ambition. You were born for the water, you say. So are the swans. So also is another
class of birds—but pass that by. You are bent on being a Yachtsman. Well, I don't blame
you for the ambition. You are too old to enter the Navy. And, if you were not, your
worthy father's opinions are very liberal. He wouldn't get an appointment from the present
people, I can tell you!
You have bought the Bubble, and you have been elected into the Argonaut Club, after
a little manoeuvring. You were opposed, first of all, by the machinations of Fitz-Offal,
whom you sulkily describe as a "used-up exclusive swell." I don't applaud Fitz-O. I agree
with you, that it is wonderful how he manages to keep the flag (which I implore you not
to call a " bit of bunting") flying in the Diddler. I can give no satisfactory explanation of
his leaving the Heavy Baboons after the Derby of 184—; and I wish I knew the details of
his rumoured scene with his skipper (whom, by the by, call the " master " for a year or two),
outside the Isle of Wight. But never mind him; he has not hindered your getting in, and
he would give his ears or his pedigree (both of which are of respectable length) to have your
banker's account. Then, don't embroil yourself with any of your club. Don't get into
corners of billiard-rooms at Cowes, or elsewhere, and sneer at the Committee. Don't be
always niggling at the Regulations, or making absurd animadversions on the rules relating
to the starboard tack giving way, &c.
In fact, let me first of all warn you not to begin by being too nautical. Rome—Hudson's
house at Albert Gate—were neither of them built in a day. You can't make a name
in a day : except such a temporary name as you could make by sowing mustard and cress in
the form of letters in a garden, which sprouts up and passes away before you can say Jack
Robinson. Once, in these pages, I had occasion to reprimand a youth who startled a whole
company of men, by saying that no square-rigged man could sail a fore-and-after. This was in
the London in Devonport, when I was visiting the dockyards officially, with the excellent
Sir Thunder Bomb, K. C. B., and the effect is still fresh in my remembrance. There were
many naval men there, when this dogma fell from the l:ps of Gosling (of the firm of Flopp
and Gosling). The poor boy never could get over the effect of his speech, and has since
married a widow with money, and taken to farming. Be slow, my son, to lay down great
general principles. Be long before you affect the very familiar use of nautical phrases. I
would rather hear you pronounce " studding-sails "—giving " studding " its two syllables
in full—than hear you glibly talking of " stun-sails," and confusing them hopelessly with the
flying jib. I would prefer that you should, on visiting a man-of-war, speak deliberately of
the " fore-castle" than that you should saucily bring out "fokesal," like an old boatswain,
when you could scarcely discriminate between its position and that of the poop! I have
been informed that when Lord Muddle visits ships officially, he has been known to mistake
the binnacle for the jolly-boat, but remember that you are not a Lord of the Admiralty, and
that no such ignorance will be excused in you.
Long Vacation.
A promising young Solicitor of Carey Street intends going to Prussia, to be present
at the experiments that are going on there with the needle gun and the Minie rifles. He
thinks this the best way of passing the Long Vacation, as he may be able to derive from it
a few notions as to Sharp Practice.
STARVED OUT BARRISTERS.
We understand that Messrs. Briefless and
Dunup have sent in claims to compensation, for
the loss they will sustain by the abolition of
the practice of requiring "Counsel's signature"
to the pleadings in the Courts of Common Law.
Mr. Briefless declares that this arrangement
will not only take the bread out of his mouth,
but the cheese out of his pan, and the tea out
of his caddy. Mr. Dunup has prepared a long
constitutional argument to show that the signing
of a plea by counsel ought to be a sine qua non,
and that the legislature, in taking from him his
" good name," which will henceforth be good for
nothing even when connected with that " stamp
of authority"—a bill stamp, will be depriving
him of that which has been literally his sole
reliance, for it was relied upon by nobody else.
He proceeds in a spirit of learned melancholy
to deplore, as one of the worst signs of the
times, the abolition of the signing of pleas
by barristers, and he expresses a fear that he
shall soon have to affix his name to a " Bill of
Reviver," as nothing but a bill to a large
amount can revive his drooping fortunes.
Mb. Briefless descants rather touchingly upon
the reckless hand of innovation which has
prevented him from bequeathing a valuable name
to his children (should he ever happen to have
any), and he is busily engaged in making his
possible family a plea, under the head of the
" general issue," which he trusts will reach the
heart of what he says ought to be a paternal
Government. In allusion to his little fees—the
only fees he ever received—he quotes passion-
ately the language of Macduff as to the sum-
mary treatment of "all his little ones"—his
precious little half-guineas—which have been
cut off at " one fell swoop;" and, indeed, it is
to be feared that the effect on the mind as well
as on the larder of the learned gent, will be
truly deplorable. There has been some talk of a
subscription, which it is said will be headed by
the laundress, who has offered to impale on
the shrine of benevolence the amount of her
last week's washing bill.
DUET FOR THE LAWYER'S OFFICE
AND THE PUBLIC-HOUSE.
Should institutions be forgot
For which, time out of mind,
Our Sidneys bled and Hampdens fought,
In the days of auld lang syne ?
Sing auld lang syne, my friend,
Sing auld lang syne,
We '11 make a pretty penny yet,
Of auld lang syne.
And sure you '11 chuckle o'er your stoup,
As sure shall 1 o'er mine ;
We both may well be cock-a-whoop
For our gains of auld lang syne.
Sing, auld lang syne, &c.
Whoe'er may lose, we two must win,
Election times are fine
For law, as well as beer and gin,
From the days of auld lang syne.
Sing, auld lang syne, &c.
Then show's thy purse, my worthy friend,
See, here's a purse of mine !
Though some a little less may spend
Than they did in auld lang syne.
Sing, auld lang syne, &c.
Influx at Lunatic Asylums.
As there are to be two full moons this month, it
may be expected that all homoeopathists, and others
labouringunderillusions—Protectionists, perhaps,
inclusive—will have been twice as mad as usual.
HINTS TO YOUNG YACHTSMEN.
S the yachting season has com-
menced its brilliant course, it
becomes Mr. P's duty to give
a fillip to the aspirations of
young yachtsmen. If every one
of them who has ears, will only
hear—Mr. P. promises himself
no ordinary moral influence.
I will suppose you, my good
young boy, to be a promising
youth of some four-and-twenty,
desirous of being " somebody,"
which is your honourable Eng-
lish ambition. You are a man
of means. Your papa has a
house a little to the east of
Gower Street, and i« not disin-
clined to a little cAiravagance
on your part, provided it be "on
the square" (to use your own
expression), and indulged in re-
spectable company. You wish
to make for yourself a set. You
are right, then, in joining your-
self to some distinct section of
the great Sporting World, where
nothing will be expected of you
but good-nature and right con-
duct to your fellows, and suffi-
cient means. The last is your
governor's business, and I would
advise you to leave it to him.
To find the means being his peculiar department, don't you interfere with it, by trying it on
elsewhere. You may be tempted to do so by being shy about an application to him,
occasionally. But, be cautious. The myth (look out that word) of the Wandering Jew too
closely typifies the restless activity of the great Hebrew intellect. Many a pleasant fellow's
cup of life has been spoiled by the infusion of the " Semitic element" (see Life of Bentinck).
Perhaps, after all, the sea is the best field—if it can be called a field —for your young
ambition. You were born for the water, you say. So are the swans. So also is another
class of birds—but pass that by. You are bent on being a Yachtsman. Well, I don't blame
you for the ambition. You are too old to enter the Navy. And, if you were not, your
worthy father's opinions are very liberal. He wouldn't get an appointment from the present
people, I can tell you!
You have bought the Bubble, and you have been elected into the Argonaut Club, after
a little manoeuvring. You were opposed, first of all, by the machinations of Fitz-Offal,
whom you sulkily describe as a "used-up exclusive swell." I don't applaud Fitz-O. I agree
with you, that it is wonderful how he manages to keep the flag (which I implore you not
to call a " bit of bunting") flying in the Diddler. I can give no satisfactory explanation of
his leaving the Heavy Baboons after the Derby of 184—; and I wish I knew the details of
his rumoured scene with his skipper (whom, by the by, call the " master " for a year or two),
outside the Isle of Wight. But never mind him; he has not hindered your getting in, and
he would give his ears or his pedigree (both of which are of respectable length) to have your
banker's account. Then, don't embroil yourself with any of your club. Don't get into
corners of billiard-rooms at Cowes, or elsewhere, and sneer at the Committee. Don't be
always niggling at the Regulations, or making absurd animadversions on the rules relating
to the starboard tack giving way, &c.
In fact, let me first of all warn you not to begin by being too nautical. Rome—Hudson's
house at Albert Gate—were neither of them built in a day. You can't make a name
in a day : except such a temporary name as you could make by sowing mustard and cress in
the form of letters in a garden, which sprouts up and passes away before you can say Jack
Robinson. Once, in these pages, I had occasion to reprimand a youth who startled a whole
company of men, by saying that no square-rigged man could sail a fore-and-after. This was in
the London in Devonport, when I was visiting the dockyards officially, with the excellent
Sir Thunder Bomb, K. C. B., and the effect is still fresh in my remembrance. There were
many naval men there, when this dogma fell from the l:ps of Gosling (of the firm of Flopp
and Gosling). The poor boy never could get over the effect of his speech, and has since
married a widow with money, and taken to farming. Be slow, my son, to lay down great
general principles. Be long before you affect the very familiar use of nautical phrases. I
would rather hear you pronounce " studding-sails "—giving " studding " its two syllables
in full—than hear you glibly talking of " stun-sails," and confusing them hopelessly with the
flying jib. I would prefer that you should, on visiting a man-of-war, speak deliberately of
the " fore-castle" than that you should saucily bring out "fokesal," like an old boatswain,
when you could scarcely discriminate between its position and that of the poop! I have
been informed that when Lord Muddle visits ships officially, he has been known to mistake
the binnacle for the jolly-boat, but remember that you are not a Lord of the Admiralty, and
that no such ignorance will be excused in you.
Long Vacation.
A promising young Solicitor of Carey Street intends going to Prussia, to be present
at the experiments that are going on there with the needle gun and the Minie rifles. He
thinks this the best way of passing the Long Vacation, as he may be able to derive from it
a few notions as to Sharp Practice.
STARVED OUT BARRISTERS.
We understand that Messrs. Briefless and
Dunup have sent in claims to compensation, for
the loss they will sustain by the abolition of
the practice of requiring "Counsel's signature"
to the pleadings in the Courts of Common Law.
Mr. Briefless declares that this arrangement
will not only take the bread out of his mouth,
but the cheese out of his pan, and the tea out
of his caddy. Mr. Dunup has prepared a long
constitutional argument to show that the signing
of a plea by counsel ought to be a sine qua non,
and that the legislature, in taking from him his
" good name," which will henceforth be good for
nothing even when connected with that " stamp
of authority"—a bill stamp, will be depriving
him of that which has been literally his sole
reliance, for it was relied upon by nobody else.
He proceeds in a spirit of learned melancholy
to deplore, as one of the worst signs of the
times, the abolition of the signing of pleas
by barristers, and he expresses a fear that he
shall soon have to affix his name to a " Bill of
Reviver," as nothing but a bill to a large
amount can revive his drooping fortunes.
Mb. Briefless descants rather touchingly upon
the reckless hand of innovation which has
prevented him from bequeathing a valuable name
to his children (should he ever happen to have
any), and he is busily engaged in making his
possible family a plea, under the head of the
" general issue," which he trusts will reach the
heart of what he says ought to be a paternal
Government. In allusion to his little fees—the
only fees he ever received—he quotes passion-
ately the language of Macduff as to the sum-
mary treatment of "all his little ones"—his
precious little half-guineas—which have been
cut off at " one fell swoop;" and, indeed, it is
to be feared that the effect on the mind as well
as on the larder of the learned gent, will be
truly deplorable. There has been some talk of a
subscription, which it is said will be headed by
the laundress, who has offered to impale on
the shrine of benevolence the amount of her
last week's washing bill.
DUET FOR THE LAWYER'S OFFICE
AND THE PUBLIC-HOUSE.
Should institutions be forgot
For which, time out of mind,
Our Sidneys bled and Hampdens fought,
In the days of auld lang syne ?
Sing auld lang syne, my friend,
Sing auld lang syne,
We '11 make a pretty penny yet,
Of auld lang syne.
And sure you '11 chuckle o'er your stoup,
As sure shall 1 o'er mine ;
We both may well be cock-a-whoop
For our gains of auld lang syne.
Sing, auld lang syne, &c.
Whoe'er may lose, we two must win,
Election times are fine
For law, as well as beer and gin,
From the days of auld lang syne.
Sing, auld lang syne, &c.
Then show's thy purse, my worthy friend,
See, here's a purse of mine !
Though some a little less may spend
Than they did in auld lang syne.
Sing, auld lang syne, &c.
Influx at Lunatic Asylums.
As there are to be two full moons this month, it
may be expected that all homoeopathists, and others
labouringunderillusions—Protectionists, perhaps,
inclusive—will have been twice as mad as usual.