Punch (36.1859)

April 9, 1869.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

PUNCH'S ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

THE AKGUMENT.

The Poet Punch, albeit extremely disgusted at the duration of the
conflict, continueth to record the events of the Reform Battle Days,
in profuse strains of unpremeditated art. Re beginneth with Mon-
day, March the 28th, and endeth with Friday, being All Fools'Lay.

Stirred to a blaze once more the battle flames,
And forward stands the stalwart Edwin James ;
Foregone conclusion doth his speech denote,
Namely, that Derby falls before the vote.
Next, a new Premier Edwin darts upon,
And hands the country to the good Lord John.
Right earnest pains doth gallant Edwin take
To show what ministers Lord John should make;
Not dim old Whigs, or boys of lordly breed,
But real men, the people's friends indeed.

Beaumont, a Liberal, which his name is Blackett,
Votes for the Bill—expected to attack it.
Lord Elcho, loyal to his friend Lord Grey,
A Liberal also, votes the Tory way,
And, in a smartish speech, gives little quarter
To Bright, whose speech he christens milk-and-water.
Bad is the measure, growls E. Ellice, sage.
Smyth would amend it on another stage.
The fated Bill receives an extra knock
From grimy Southwark's delegate, John Locke.
The Lord Adolphus Tempest plainly tells
His creed—the workman's real friends are Swells ;
Whereat the ready Monckton Milnes invites
The swells to yield the workman's claim of rights.

Then oily Graham rears his length in air,
And ffazes round him with a wild despair :
Laudator temporis acti, when Reform
Rode on the whirlwind, and he hurled the storm.
That was a triumph. He had fondly deemed
That settlement was final. He had dreamed.
The time had come, he urged, with accents sad.
To lower your franchise, and new Members add;
Nay, though he hates the sneaking secret ball,
He hears it asked for with increasing call.

Given the necessity, you want a Bill

Of far more boldness, and of greater skill.

So spoke the tall and venerable vir,

With tardy diction and Northumbrian burr.

Last, on his feet brave Pakington upsprang,
And dashed at all antagonists slap-bang:
Fought for the Bill, and hurled no measured strokes
On Palmerston for all his jeers and jokes,
His counsel scouted, and his wrath defied,
And bade the House the measure's fate decide;
Let Russell win—he gave them warning fair—
The Bill should be among the things that were.

The fifth debate's adjourned, the Senate drives
Off to its toddies, clubs, weeds, whist, or wives.

No vulgar champion now bestrides the field,
But one beneath whose blow the best have reeled.
The classic Gladstone earliest takes the floor,
Armed, doubly armed, with eloquence and lore.
Pleased on his lips the listening Commons hung,
And truths divine came mended from his tongue.
His polished blade like glancing Dghtning flies,
Stabbed at his feet the Resolution lies :
But ere hath ceased that Ministerial shout,
The Bill itself he hacks and hews about,
Lops off its clauses, as, in ancient day,
Ulysses lopped Melanthius' limbs away;
But spares its life, and loftily requires
The House to make it what the House desires.
Small boroughs hold high place in his esteem;
He'd have the Senate half an Academe,
Where boys, returned for tiny burghs, should learn
A statesman's business, and its duties stern.
Give votes to friends of Williams, Hadeield, Cox,
But keep a door for Pelham, Canning, Fox.
The great Debater spoke : and sat, while cheers
Of the pleased Commons vibrate on his ears.

" The Bill is framed, at least in my belief,
With crafty Tory purpose," quoth Moncrieef.
" On purpose to defeat yon artful dodger,
(John Russell) I support," said Palmer (Roger).
Westhead, who's not the best head, will oppose.
To t'other lobby Major Edwards goes.
Collier on Ben looks black as any coal.
Walsh thinks the measure good, upon the whole.
O. Stanley seeks its death on every ground.
Macaulay deems its principles are sound.
From Yarmouth's Member, learned Q. C. Mellor,
Ben gets the thing Ben Gaunt would call a smeller.
Hardy, the Under-Secretary, hits
Both hard and fair, and vindicates his wits.
And John Fitzgerald, Irish ex-A. G.,
Propels his brogue against Disraeli,
Assails the Bill, and fervidly affirrums
The Resolution clear in all its terrums.

The sixth debate's adjourned, the Senate drives
Off to its toddies, clubs, weeds, whist, or wives.

Wet are the streets with Wednesday's filthy snow,
When to the House the eager Commons go.
The Thursday night has come, and word is passed.
That leaders mean this night shall be the last.

The foremost blow is struck by young Du Cane,
Who votes with Ministers. In fiercer strain,
Rails at the Bill the elder son of Peel,
Robert, whose mouth is seldom stopped by meal;
His taunts, though not refined, the House amuse,
If slight the value of his statesman-views.
Gaskell regrets the Bill was ever framed,
But of the Rltssell motion is ashamed;
And kindly Slaney, with reverse of joy,
Resists a Bill which he would not destroy.
E. Egerton (what's that about a Peer?)
Supports the measure, though some points are queer.
Cobbett and Collins think it good enough,
While Western censures it in language rough.
Htjdson and Hodgson, Russell's dodge rebuke,
And so does Wyvill, christened Marmaduke.
To rhyme a roll of names is rather hard,
Be ample beer permitted to the bard.