Punch: Punch (32.1857)

June 20, 1857.]

251

HOMAGE TO KING HANDEL.

hen these words
are made public
there will be but
one chance left to
profit by them;
'Punch will not
therefore be de-
terred from ex-
horting that small
remnant of his
London readers
who have not
thought it worth
their while to at-
tend the Syden-
ham Festival, at
once to take a
second thought
about the matter
and a stall ticket.

They will not merely get their fullest guinea's worth of present delectation, but
will acquire a small fortune of pleasant recollections. "A thing of beauty is a joy
for ever: " and there are so many beautiful things in Israel in Egypt, that no chance
should be lost of making their addition to one's store of joyous memories.

But although this may be said of any Handel performance, there are at least
two thousand more than ordinary reasons why Punch should impress^ it in the
prospect of nest Friday. Everybody knows that of all oratorios Israel in Egypt is
most famous for its chorusses. And these are given generally by some five hundred
strong, while fifteen hundred more will sing in them at Sydenham. It has been
said that Handel had a wish to introduce a cannon in a chorus, and thought that
a ten-pounder part would prove a most effective addition to the score, and be
pretty sure to go off stunningly. But what would he have given to command such
a battery as F. M. Costa's, where every note that issues is a 2,000 pounder !

Mr. Punch has little doubt that he would quite maintain his prophetic reputation
were he to anticipate the praises of the press, and to write beforehand an eulogistic
criticism, giving commendation to every one who had a hand or a voice in the
performance—from the deepest of the bass down to (speaking locally) the highest
of the trebles from Commander-in-Chief Costa up to (speaking locally) the
artistes who assisted in the blowing of the organ-bellows. Mr. Punchy if so
inclined, could with ease proceed to take a leaf out of the note-books of those
clairvoyant critics, who are so unbiassed by their sense of hearing that they can
write down their opinion of a musical performance quite as well before as after
they have listened to it. It is the business of these ready writers to keep con-
stantly on hand a stock of critical expressions which will be found suitable to
every emergency; and by the clairvoyance of their craft they are enabled to
foresee how a concert will go off, and to furnish a fore-chronicle of its minutest
details. Taking the Morning Herald for his guide (which paper lately published a
critique of a performance that had never taken place), Mr. Punch would undertake
at a few moments' notice to supply a most discriminating criticism of the Festival
—prophetically stating what points were missed, and which were made the most
of, what applause was given, and out of how many encores the performers would
nave certainly been swindled but for the timely intervention of himself and the
police.

With the power he possesses to direct his vision clean into the middle of next
week, nothing would be easier than for Mr. Punch to enter into the most
microscopic details, and give a full statistical account of the exact number of
sandkerchiefs that were waved to the performers, and of the precise duration of
ihe cheers with which, at the close of their week's work, they were greeted ; and
Mr. Punch would specially delight in chronicling how, by way of a finale, the
happy notion was conceived of bath-chairing Mil. Costa, who thereupon was seated
in his car of triumph, and dragged by a well-chosen team of his prettiest soprani
and contralti round the building.

By the time that Mr. Punch's next week's notice can be issued, the vocabulary
of criticism will have been thoroughly exhausted, and the most original and freshest
of expressions will run the risk of being regarded as mere plagiaries. There is,
consequently, now the more temptation to resort to his prophetic faculties, ana
to let his readers know what he thought of the Great Festival, before it became
stale news for them to hear it. Mr. Punch quite expects that the magnitude of the
effect will be found much m excess of that of preparation, although for weeks
he has been hearing that the minutest note will be on such a major scale, that it
will be difficult to find words big enough to talk of it. Yet in addition to the
statement that the leaves of the music-books would quite suffice to paper—on both
sides of it—the Great Wall of China, and if piled in double heap, would far out-top
the Andes ; Mr. Punch expects that he will next week have to chronicle the fact,
that the buttons which were burst by the Stentors of the chorus measured, when
picked up, precisely one-and-twenty bushels: while not only, as a correspondent
of the Times discovered, were the notes of the great organ plainly audible at
Norwood, but every beat of the big drum was most distinctly heard at Brighton,
and several of the chorusses were listened to at Calais.

With the foreknowledge of these facts it can be no wonder that Mr. Punch
should consider the Sydenham Festival as being the Eighth Wonder of the Musical
World, and should thus exhort his readers to avoid the disgrace which he hopes
will attach to those who wilfully were absent. For it is as much a duty as a

pleasure to attend there. The King of Composers is now
holding his Court at the Crystal Palace, and with such,
pomp and circumstance as never has been equalled. Let
then every faithful subject not fail to pay him tribute (a
half guinea will suffice, if he can't afford a whole one), and
prove his loyalty to the Monarch of Music, by bringing to
King Handel the homage of his presence.

THE PARLIAMENTABY PUNSTER.

by our savage contributor.

A Pun may have wit, but a punster's a calf,

(Blest Punch ! who this lesson enforcest)
And of all the coarse ways of obtaining a laugh,

A joke on a name is the coarsest.
You blockhead, you dullard, you nuisance, you clod,

Who think such things wit (an illusion),
Go down to the House, or sit down with your Dod,

There's food for your wit, in profusion.

Here comes Mr. Hume, he should pair, you can say,

With the member out there, Mr. Smollett,
And if your next joke couples Duncan and Gray,

(Who " came here to woo,") I '11 extol it.
Messrs. Davey and Jones you '11 connect, Sir, I trust,

With the locker whose lids never rise,
Mr. Steel you'll send off with his friend, Mr Rust,

While together go Merry and Wise.

And next, you great ass, you can pair Mr. Luce

With that eminent architect, Tite,
And say Messrs. Moody and Cross are of use,

But you think Mr. Bland's more polite.
And then Mr. Clay will your fancy provoke.

Sir Potter can make him obey,
Unless you insist, as a smoking-room joke,

That Cavendish must go with clay.

Mr. Pease will of course find a match, Mr. Warre,

Mr. Cooper roll off Mr. Butt :
And you '11 hope that the House will well legislate for

Every House, from the Hall to the Hutt.
Mr. Hackblock, you '11 say, will attack Sir C. Wood,

Mb. Lowe not be Heard, you young Pagan,
And Oliver Twist suggests one (rather good),

You can pair William Sykes off with Fagan.

Then Jackson and Graham you'll say must have sealed

A partnership treaty, of course, man :
If you see a poor Horseall the horse will have Nei ld,

And the rider have proved a bad Horsman.
A wretched slow joke on East, Western, and North,

You may bring, if you can, with a blush out,
And advise shutting doors when a bore launches forth,

That a Locke may thus hinder a Rushout.

If over the list of the members you fag well,

To Taylor a Schneider you '11 stitch,
And say that a party who knows how to Bagwell

Will one of these days become Rich.
Mr. Carter puts shoulder to shove the state weal,

Mr. Grace's chief action's in angles,
Mr. Patten's a clog on all ill-judging zeal,

No logic can turn Mr. Mangles.

That Ker is a dog of exceeding good blood,

That Hastie 5s a bit of a drawler,
And if the State vessel sticks fast in the mud,

From yon Beach Mr. Puller must haul her.
And when you've quite bored us enough, stupid boy,

With the far-fetched results of your small craft,
A member with whom I should chiefly enjoy

To see you pairing off's Mr. Calcraft.

Politeness in High Life.

Tuft Hunter. And you say Her Serene Highness thb
Duchess is quite well P

Princely 'Equerry. Quite well, thank you.

Tuft Hunter. I am sure, it gives me the greatest pleasure
to hear so. And her husband, if I might venture to ask ?

Princely Equerry [laughing up his military sleeve). Thank
you, His Highness, when I left him, was Serene also.