Punch: Punch (23.1852)

268

PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

CURIOUS PROPHECY FULFILLED.

rom the Memoires d' Outre Tombe,
of Chateaubriand, we extract
the following prophecy:—

" There have always been two Bona-
partes : one great, the other little."

When we consider that this
was said long before the present
Emperor appeared on the stage
of French politics, the pro-
phecy with regard to the " Na-
poleon the Little" is curious
enough to deserve a passing
record, now that the fulfilment
has so literally taken place.

What would Zadkiel not
give for such a lucky pro-
phecy !

MR. PUNCH'S YuLE LOG;

OR, GLIMPSES OF THE PAST AND PRESENT.

'T was the Midwinter Night,

And the stars, in their flight
O'er the office of Punch, in the court of St. Bride,

That enchanter could spy

In his garret on high,
With Toby, the faithful, asleep at his side.

O'er the chimney, pourtrayed

By his skill, were displayed
A. group of his very best figures of speech,

And two vases appeared

On the mantelpiece reared
With the flow'rs of his rhetoric blooming in each.

All around were the spells,

And the charms, which he sells
'Gainst Blue devils, bad spirits, deceit and delusion;

And of others, whose use is

'Gainst public abuses,
jri the shelves, chairs, and floor lay a mighty profusion:

Here the models in wax

Of impostors and quacks
At the fire of his wit were fast melting away;

There, the cause to advance

Of true freedom in France,
He had pierced with sharp jokes a Napoleon of clay;

The Yule Log, that blazed

On the fire upraised,
On an oak of Dodona had formerly grown,

From out of whose hollow

Trunk, Zeus or Apollo,
To their questioners Sibylline leaves had oft blown ;

But, when all these poor oaks

Had succumbed to the strokes
Of sceptics, whose axing precluded reply,

The Log I have named,

From the fire reclaimed
By a cabinet-maker, came forth by and bye,

Fresh with gilding and paint,

In the form of a saint,
And worked every day some miraculous cure,

Till the English White Friars—

Of relics great buyers—
Sent their agent an image so blest to procure.

It boots not to tell

How, when evil befell
All the Convents, it suffered a terrible drop,

And became, first a sign

For a dealer in wine,
Then a Black Boy outside a tobacconist's shop,

Or how in each place,

Its miraculous face
For if s masters oft made many customers stop;

Till, much battered about,

Tarnished, chipped, and worn out,
As no one could tell to what purpose to turn it,

Mr. Punch had just bought it

For an old song, and brought it
To his home, in the hope as a Yule Log to burn it.

And e'en now as he gazed

On the Log as it blazed,
He saw that the flames from its fingers and toes,

And the eddies of smoke,

That incessantly broke
From its thrice blessed eyes and its sanctified nose,

As over the ceiling

And walls they went stealing,
And dancing, and glancing in light and in shade,

In the forms of Dwarfs, Pixies,

Trolls, Boggarts, and Nixies,
Pucks, Brownies, and Kelpies themselves had arrayed,

And the Lubbar Fiends cried,

" When all faith in us died,
And our mission as Brownies and Bargeists was over,

For a time 'twas our fate,

In the Church and the State,
On fat sinecure places to live on in clover;

Then, like Dawson and Moore,

Still increasing our s'ore,
Or like Richard and Georgey, those two pretty men,*

Doing less for the pay

We received, every day,
We devoured more livings than three score and ten;

But the press, which alas !

Brought our downfall to pass
As spirits, is bent on our ruin once more."—

Howled a Leprechaun, " Wirrasthrew !

Blessed Kevin ! What shall 1 do ?
When my quare shape, that bothered the Irish before,

Lost it 8 power to alarm,

Still the peaceful to harm,
As a Ribbonman, Orangeman, Peep-o'-day Boy,

Rockile, Rapparee, Whitefoot,

With quick hand and light foot,
I contrived the whole country to vex and annoy ;

But, with great consternation,

I see emigration
Bids fair soon to throw me quite out of employ."—

Said a Troll, " When our pains,

In the forging of chains
For the weak, and the knights who defended their cause,

Unavailing became,

Changing calling and name,
We were able to frame such bills, statutes, and laws,

As to check for a season

Truth, justice, and reason ;
But this business don't promise much longer to answer, I

Have great reason to fear,

From the tidings I hear
Of the New County Courts, and late Orders in Chancery."—

An elf moaned, " When we found,

For our halls underground,
Little children as servants no more might be caught,

In the forms of slave-dealers,

Slave owners, slave-stealers,
Great skill to our new occupation we brought;

And contrived, for a time,

Every species of crime
To indulge in, but now of all friends quite bereaved,

From " Uncle Tom's Cabin,"

A terrible stab in
Our tenderest point we have lately received."—

Shrieked a Kelpie, " My scream

From the fountain or stream
Frightened those who had sought it to bathe or to drink,

And I've laboured since then,

Round the dwellings of men
To collect every sort of filth, nuisance, and stink,

But alas ! this Commission

To mend the condition
Of Towns (here the poor fellow looked quite dejected),

Makes me tremble with frig Ik,

When I read, day and night,
Of the drains they have made, and the baths they've erected.

Here ai ose a mixed howling,

And general growling—
The Bogles, lamenting each old institution

Whose ruins they haunted,

Its excellence vaunted:
While the Banshees foreboded its near dissolution,

Toby, roused by a spark,

Jumping up with a bark
To bay at the spectres he saw had begun;

When a sharp voice, that broke

From the Yule Log, thus spoke :
" By your frientfs, Mr. Punch, all this ill has been dous;

* The Reverend Brothers Prkttyman pluralists par excellent*.