Punch: Punch (32.1857)

January 24, 1857.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

37

THE LAUREATE ON THE NEW YEAR.

n the 19th January, 1807,
exactly fifty years ago, our
Times- was late, and we had
nearly finished breakfast
before it arrived. Conse-
quently, when it did come
(having an engagement with
the Duke of York, who was
just about to be impeached
by Colonel Wardle) we
put the paper into our
pocket, instead of leaving it
on the mahogany slab in the
hall for the then news-boy
(now the Venerable Arch-
deacon * * * * *), and it
is still in our possession.

Happening to look into
it, we observe an Ode for
the New Year, by the Poet
Laureate. This official's
name, at that time, was
Pye. Now it is Tennyson.

Had the present Poet
Laureate seen fit to an-
nounce an Ode on the
present new year, we should
not have felt it our duty to
look for one elsewhere, because we have a good deal of confidence in
Mr. T., and we think that what it was desirable to say he would have
said delectably. But as Mr. Moxon gives no sign that he is in pos-
session of " copy "—advertises no Ode for the New Year—we are thrown
upon our own resources. And as nobody in the world can possibly have
heard of Mr. Pye's Ode for forty-nine years and three hundred and
sixty-four days, we cannot see why it should not do over again, with a
few notes, showing its adaptation to existing circumstances. Por one
year is very like another.

The first verse contains eighteen fines, in which the question is asked
whether a sailor in a storm yields himself to inaction, and the answer
is given " No "—that he says his prayers and mans the mainsad-top-
gallant-brace, or performs whatever other nautical manoeuvre may be
shipshape. This proposition may be admitted. Now for the application.
What was true in 1807 is true in 1857.

" So, though around our sea-encircled reign,

The dreadful tempest seem to lower,
Dismayed do Britain's hardy train

Await in doubt the threat'niug hour ? 1
Lo ! to his sons, with cheering voice,
Albion's bold Genius"2 calls aloud ;
Around him valiant myriads crowd,
Or death or victory their choice ; 3
From ev'ry port astonish'd Europe sees
Britannia's white sails4 swelling with the breeze ;
Not her imperial barks alone
Awe the proud foe on every side,5
Commerce her vessels launches on the tide,
And her indignant sons awhile
Seceding from their wonted toil,6
Turn from the arts of peace their care,
Hurl from each deck the bolts of war,
To sweep th' injurious boasters from the Main,7
Who dare to circumscribe Britannia's naval reign."

1. We should think not. 2. Mr. Punch. 3. Preferably the latter,
of course. 4. Por "white sails swelling with" read "funnels smoking
in." 5. This is Ode slang, but it means that the General Screw and
P. and 0. boats carry guns. 6. Pronounced tile, in poetry. 7. Or read

" To smash the injurious Pig-tails, who again
Have dared to treat Sir J. d. Bowejng with disdain."

The next verse is excessively noble and retrospective.

'' And see with emulative zeal

Our hosts congenial ardour feel ;

The ardent spirit, that of yore

Flam'd high on Gallia's1 vanquish'd shore ;
Or burn'd by Danube's2 distant flood,
When flow'd his current ting'd with Gallic3 blood ;
Or shone on Lineelles'4 later fight :
Or fir'd by Acre's tow'rs the Christian's Knight ;
Or taught on Maida's fields the Gaul to feel,
Urg'd by the Briton's arm, the British steel ;
Now in our breasts with heat redoubled glows,
And gleams dismay and death on Europe's ruthless foes.5 "

1. Gallia means Prance. 2. A large river of Europe. 3. French.
4. Ha ! we have you. You have laughed, in your geographical hauteur,
at the three preceding annotations—now tell us what Lineelles is, and
who fought the^ later fight, and when ? A copy of Mr. Punch's Pocket-
Book shall be given to any lady or gentleman who will solemnly assure

us, on honour, that, without looking into a single book, he or she
answered that the battle was fought between Prance and Austria,
England siding with the latter, on the 18th of August. 1793. 5. The
verse will do, but we propose to read, for the last couplet,

" Now bids us force John Chinaman to blows,
His teacups break, and further flatten his fiat nose."

The fourth and last verse of the Poet Laureate's Ode runs thus :—

" Not to Ambition's specious charm,

Not to th' ensanguin'd Despot's hand,
Is conquest bound—a mightier Arm

Than Earth's proud tyrants can withstand,
The balance holds of human fate,
Raises the low and sinks the great,
Exerting then in Europe's cause
Each energy of arm and mind,
All that from force or skill the warrior draws,

Yet to Superior Power resign'd,
Whose high behest all Nature's movements guides,
Controls the battle's and the ocean's tides ;
Britain still hopes that Heav'n her vows will hear,
While Mercy rears her shield and Justice points her spear."

By reading this verse carefully about eleven times, and not allowing
yourself to be confused by the pertinacious inversions thereof, you may
gradually discover the meaning, which we take to be nearly unobjection-
able. It is not in mortals to command success, but if we do all we can,
we may take our chance, provided we are humane to the vanquished,
and never go to war except for just cause. This latter proviso, the
poet, after the fashion of his school, puts at the end of all things ; and
indeed, as it is usually the last thing thought of, it may be said to be
in the right place. Well, the verse answers the purpose of the
campaign of 1857, and

" Britain still hopes Tea will not be more dear
Along of Admiral S., both cruel and sewere."

_ And even if the moral of the poem should not at once strike con-
viction, there is another moral which must go home to every careful
heart. We have been taking care of this Ode for exactly fifty years,
and behold we find—what we never expected—a use for it at last. To
adapt a celebrated maxim, "Burn no man's poems ; some day you may
want a poet of your own "

"FEOM THE DON TO THE GANGES."

" Among all the studies to which human attention can be directed,
none is more pleasing and profitable than Geography." This touching
passage in an essay of Mr. Punch's, written long anterior to his being-
invested with the toga virilis, has been suggested to his memory by the
following extract from the Calcutta Englishman. This journal, in
criticising an article by our respected contemporary the Examiner,
upon the Persian war, and the possible advance of Russia upon India,
observes:—

"The Examiner is a very poor authority upon Indian military matters, for he
says that a Russian army, after beating us on the Indus, ' would have a march of
1,500 miles to make in order to reach the powerfully fortified British Capital in the
marshes of Bengal.' Think of that, General Todtleben. Sevastopol is nothing to
Calcutta. All your skill would be unavailing to cross the Chitpore Canal, for that
is the only fortification we know of. Fort William, it is true, is at the opposite end
of Calcutta, and if its ramparts were not shaken down by its own fire, might
demolish the town in a short time, but, as for defending it, that is totally out of the
question."

Now, a geographical dictionary, of respectable proportions, would
have contained such a description of Calcutta as might have prevented
our friend the Examiner from falling into the Chitpore Canal, and—

Stop! A dark thought crosses us. Is treachery afoot ? Did the
Examiner—bribed with Prussian gold—desire to mystify our military
authorities, and to delude them into permitting a Russian army to
advance upon Calcutta ? That those authorities should, of themselves,
know anything of the subject, is out of the epiestion—that they rely
upon the English press tor information and guidance is notorious.
And the Examiner has betrayed them!

Tower-ffill! Are there no Axes left, save what serve for the moon's
rotation—no Blocks, save Metropolitan central boarders? Well,
Parliament meets in a few days, and we counsel the Examiner
obtain passports for some region where ex-tradition is unknown. " A
manifest traitor ! "__

Height of Liberality.

An unselfish Manager, inspired by the generosity of the season,
exhibits the bills of other Managers' pantomimes, by the side of his
own, in front of his theatre.

a passage through life to be avoided.

The heart of a Coquette may be compared to the Exeter Change
Arcade, where there is always a shop to be let, or in which the tenant
rarely stops long'