DOI issue:
January to June, 1853
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16611#0078
7U
HE MUST HAVE BLOOD !
A French Legitimist writer talking of the treaties ot
1815, describes them elegantly as " a page of mud," and he
adds with a true sanguinary gusto, that "there is not sufficient
blood in the veins of 10,000,000 of men to wash out that
immense stain." Whether the treaties were written in mud,
we can't say. But this Legitimist notion of washing out
"mud" with "blood," is remarkable alike for its folly and
ferocity. To our own eyes, "blood" is a far more sorry sight
than " mud," and the lasting stain left by the former is much
more revolting than the temporary blot caused by the latter.
Unfortunately, however, for Prance, there are some French-
men—happily a minority, we hope, of the nation—to whom
Gory and Glory are alike in sense as well as in sound, and who
go about howling "Death to the English!" like this mur-
derous maniac, who couples his amiable watchword with the
assertion that "the French carry life throughout all the
countries where they penetrate."
Mr. Cob den in Error.
Me. Cobden, in his recent "Letters," taKes occasion to
remark, with a considerable amount of emphasis for so pacific
a writer, that notwithstanding, in the last fifteen years or so,
there have been added upwards of 100,000 men to our naval
and military establishments, the public press is still continually
to be found complaining of their " great deficiency." Now, rf
this be the rule with our contemporaries, we certainly must
plead ourselves complete exceptions to it. For, considering
what a number of superannuated veterans are kept on what
of course to them is nominally " active " service, we cannot
think we have to complain so much of the "deficiency" of our
forces, as of their surplus-age.
a temperance erolic.
We lately saw, in a paper, an announcement of the promo-
tion of the "Assistant Engineer of the first class of the
Devastation" by name "Mr. B. Grog." We suspect that
Railway Porter. " First Class, Sir ?" the paragraph thus connecting Grog with Devastation must
Unfortunate Oxonian. " No ! Plucked !" have been concocted by some teetotal wag.
PRESENTATION OE NUGGETS TO THE QUEEN
AND PUNCH.
Her Majesty and ourselves have been selected as the recipients of
two fine specimens of Australian gold, one having been forwarded to
Victoria as the Queen of these realms, and the other to Punch, as the
Prince of Periodicals. We have seen no official report of the presen-
tation of the nugget at the Palace; but our own specimen has been
received_ with a solemnity ahnost equalling, in imposing pomp, the
ceremonials observed at Louis Napoleon's marriage.
The precious treasure having been shipped under a salute of sixteen
sons of guns, in the service of Me. David Baeclay of Hobart Town,
was, during the whole of the voyage, guarded by a loblolli-boy; and
on its arrival in London, was received at Austin Friars by a represen-
tative of the highly respectable house of Kennard & Company, who
had caused the entire right-hand pocket of a velvet waistcoat to be set
apart for its reception.
Its arrival having been notified to us, preparations were made at our
Office on an extensive scale, and the publisher wore all his orders—
including the most recent order in black and white of a set of our
work from the commencement—in honour of the occasion. An extra
boy had been laid on in addition to our ordinary staff, and on the
arrival of the cab containing the precious relic, the boy walked forward
at a slow pace towards the assistant publisher, who proceeded a few
steps towards the publisher-in-chief, when the whole of the officials
formed into line, and advancing towards the cab, received the golden
tribute from the hands of the cab-driver, into which it had been placed
by the representative of the house entrusted with its delivery. After
an exchange of mutual courtesies, the treasure was carried slowly into
the Office, and deposited with the other tributes received from all
quarters of the world, including the celebrated lobster's claw portrait
of Punch from the United States, the plaster of Paris cast from
Germany, the statue of Toby in Boman cement, and the vast collection
of complimentary curiosities which have converted one of our shelves
into a British Museum in miniature.
The piece of gold bears a striking resemblance to the figure of Punch,
and has been moulded by nature to add the conclusive evidence of the
voice of Nature to the fact that Punch is worth his weight hi gold—a
fact our modesty might never have allowed us to proclaim, had not the
admission been, as it were, wrested from us by the incident which
lias given rise to these observations.
the geeat punch nugget.
Egging them on.
A country Barrister in France, named Billot—and a most tern
pestuous frothy Billot he seems to be—has published a pamphlet, in
which he humanely announces that we English must all be massacred,
and England herself destroyed "in its egg." When this ranting
would-be cut-throat talks of destroying England in its egg, he seems tc
forget that there is something in the shape of shell to be met before
the egg is to undergo the process of batter.
an editorial cry.
Overheard in the Counting-house of a Shabby Newspaper Office.
" Give your Orders, gentlemen—give your Orders for the Theatres,
gentlemen—the Advertisers are in the room."
HE MUST HAVE BLOOD !
A French Legitimist writer talking of the treaties ot
1815, describes them elegantly as " a page of mud," and he
adds with a true sanguinary gusto, that "there is not sufficient
blood in the veins of 10,000,000 of men to wash out that
immense stain." Whether the treaties were written in mud,
we can't say. But this Legitimist notion of washing out
"mud" with "blood," is remarkable alike for its folly and
ferocity. To our own eyes, "blood" is a far more sorry sight
than " mud," and the lasting stain left by the former is much
more revolting than the temporary blot caused by the latter.
Unfortunately, however, for Prance, there are some French-
men—happily a minority, we hope, of the nation—to whom
Gory and Glory are alike in sense as well as in sound, and who
go about howling "Death to the English!" like this mur-
derous maniac, who couples his amiable watchword with the
assertion that "the French carry life throughout all the
countries where they penetrate."
Mr. Cob den in Error.
Me. Cobden, in his recent "Letters," taKes occasion to
remark, with a considerable amount of emphasis for so pacific
a writer, that notwithstanding, in the last fifteen years or so,
there have been added upwards of 100,000 men to our naval
and military establishments, the public press is still continually
to be found complaining of their " great deficiency." Now, rf
this be the rule with our contemporaries, we certainly must
plead ourselves complete exceptions to it. For, considering
what a number of superannuated veterans are kept on what
of course to them is nominally " active " service, we cannot
think we have to complain so much of the "deficiency" of our
forces, as of their surplus-age.
a temperance erolic.
We lately saw, in a paper, an announcement of the promo-
tion of the "Assistant Engineer of the first class of the
Devastation" by name "Mr. B. Grog." We suspect that
Railway Porter. " First Class, Sir ?" the paragraph thus connecting Grog with Devastation must
Unfortunate Oxonian. " No ! Plucked !" have been concocted by some teetotal wag.
PRESENTATION OE NUGGETS TO THE QUEEN
AND PUNCH.
Her Majesty and ourselves have been selected as the recipients of
two fine specimens of Australian gold, one having been forwarded to
Victoria as the Queen of these realms, and the other to Punch, as the
Prince of Periodicals. We have seen no official report of the presen-
tation of the nugget at the Palace; but our own specimen has been
received_ with a solemnity ahnost equalling, in imposing pomp, the
ceremonials observed at Louis Napoleon's marriage.
The precious treasure having been shipped under a salute of sixteen
sons of guns, in the service of Me. David Baeclay of Hobart Town,
was, during the whole of the voyage, guarded by a loblolli-boy; and
on its arrival in London, was received at Austin Friars by a represen-
tative of the highly respectable house of Kennard & Company, who
had caused the entire right-hand pocket of a velvet waistcoat to be set
apart for its reception.
Its arrival having been notified to us, preparations were made at our
Office on an extensive scale, and the publisher wore all his orders—
including the most recent order in black and white of a set of our
work from the commencement—in honour of the occasion. An extra
boy had been laid on in addition to our ordinary staff, and on the
arrival of the cab containing the precious relic, the boy walked forward
at a slow pace towards the assistant publisher, who proceeded a few
steps towards the publisher-in-chief, when the whole of the officials
formed into line, and advancing towards the cab, received the golden
tribute from the hands of the cab-driver, into which it had been placed
by the representative of the house entrusted with its delivery. After
an exchange of mutual courtesies, the treasure was carried slowly into
the Office, and deposited with the other tributes received from all
quarters of the world, including the celebrated lobster's claw portrait
of Punch from the United States, the plaster of Paris cast from
Germany, the statue of Toby in Boman cement, and the vast collection
of complimentary curiosities which have converted one of our shelves
into a British Museum in miniature.
The piece of gold bears a striking resemblance to the figure of Punch,
and has been moulded by nature to add the conclusive evidence of the
voice of Nature to the fact that Punch is worth his weight hi gold—a
fact our modesty might never have allowed us to proclaim, had not the
admission been, as it were, wrested from us by the incident which
lias given rise to these observations.
the geeat punch nugget.
Egging them on.
A country Barrister in France, named Billot—and a most tern
pestuous frothy Billot he seems to be—has published a pamphlet, in
which he humanely announces that we English must all be massacred,
and England herself destroyed "in its egg." When this ranting
would-be cut-throat talks of destroying England in its egg, he seems tc
forget that there is something in the shape of shell to be met before
the egg is to undergo the process of batter.
an editorial cry.
Overheard in the Counting-house of a Shabby Newspaper Office.
" Give your Orders, gentlemen—give your Orders for the Theatres,
gentlemen—the Advertisers are in the room."