DOI issue:
June 9, 1860
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16865#0246
[Juke 9, 1860.
238 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
BAD HANGING. (DEDICATED TO THE R.A.'s)
Figgins, our Coal Merchant, this Whitsun Holidays, has a Gorgeous Design painted on his Shutters (Landscape and Van); but see how the effect was
marred by the injudicious Hanging of his Stupid Boy,
The bonnet rouge upon that Spectre’s brow
Still shows, half hid by an Imperial crown;
It wears the sansculotte's foul rags, but now
A purple robe conceals them, sweeping down;
In the dark shadows of the Janus-fa.ce
Anarch’s and Despot’s traits with kindred sneer embrace.
A match is in the velvet,-glov’d right hand.
The down-bent head is listening tow’rds the ground.
While from beneatti where the veiled form holds stand
Comes faintly up the miners’ muffled sound;
And round the front of brass and feet of clay,
In blood, with bayonets writ, runs—“ L’ Empire c’est la Paix.
Parliamentary Notice.
Mr. Punch, to take the sense of the House on the question, whether
there would be any precedent for any proceeding whatever, unless some
precedent had been originally created at some time or other, and what
constitutional objection there can possibly be to the creation of a
rational precedent now ?
THE SPECTRE OP 1860.
Ten years since, Empire, Kingdom, Constitution,
Church, noblesse, bourgeoisie, through Europe trembled
At the grim fiend yclept Eed Revolution,
Who still his forces underground assembled,
Crowns, mitres, coronets, prepared to humble,
And manners, laws, and arts in one wild ruin jumble,—■
That in their place an edifice might grow,
Squared by the Socialistic line and level;
Its planners, Robespierre, Mirabeau and Co—
The head man in their “ Co.” being the Devil:
A Phalanstere, with a Procrustes’ Press,
Eor stretching small folks big and squeezing big folks less.
Ten years have passed, and monarchs still are shaking
Upon their thrones ; in court and church and mart.
Nobles, priests, citizens are still a-quaking;
Still all is feverish doubt, and shock and start;
Still a red Spectre looms outside the door;
An earthquake still is pent beneath the heaving floor.
238 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
BAD HANGING. (DEDICATED TO THE R.A.'s)
Figgins, our Coal Merchant, this Whitsun Holidays, has a Gorgeous Design painted on his Shutters (Landscape and Van); but see how the effect was
marred by the injudicious Hanging of his Stupid Boy,
The bonnet rouge upon that Spectre’s brow
Still shows, half hid by an Imperial crown;
It wears the sansculotte's foul rags, but now
A purple robe conceals them, sweeping down;
In the dark shadows of the Janus-fa.ce
Anarch’s and Despot’s traits with kindred sneer embrace.
A match is in the velvet,-glov’d right hand.
The down-bent head is listening tow’rds the ground.
While from beneatti where the veiled form holds stand
Comes faintly up the miners’ muffled sound;
And round the front of brass and feet of clay,
In blood, with bayonets writ, runs—“ L’ Empire c’est la Paix.
Parliamentary Notice.
Mr. Punch, to take the sense of the House on the question, whether
there would be any precedent for any proceeding whatever, unless some
precedent had been originally created at some time or other, and what
constitutional objection there can possibly be to the creation of a
rational precedent now ?
THE SPECTRE OP 1860.
Ten years since, Empire, Kingdom, Constitution,
Church, noblesse, bourgeoisie, through Europe trembled
At the grim fiend yclept Eed Revolution,
Who still his forces underground assembled,
Crowns, mitres, coronets, prepared to humble,
And manners, laws, and arts in one wild ruin jumble,—■
That in their place an edifice might grow,
Squared by the Socialistic line and level;
Its planners, Robespierre, Mirabeau and Co—
The head man in their “ Co.” being the Devil:
A Phalanstere, with a Procrustes’ Press,
Eor stretching small folks big and squeezing big folks less.
Ten years have passed, and monarchs still are shaking
Upon their thrones ; in court and church and mart.
Nobles, priests, citizens are still a-quaking;
Still all is feverish doubt, and shock and start;
Still a red Spectre looms outside the door;
An earthquake still is pent beneath the heaving floor.