Punch (39.1860)

July 28, I860.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

31

Elderly Passenger. “ Going out Fishing,
Young do. “ No ! It ain’t Fishing Rods-
Cousin’s Birthday. Have a Weed ? ”

I presume, Young Gentleman !”

-It’s Sky Rockets I’m taking eoivn for

my

MORE POPISH PRIESTCRAFT.

At Bow Street the other day, an Italian organ-
grinder described as Eacinelli Giovanni, was
pulled lip for playing his unmusical instrument
in University Street, and refusing to go away
when lie was ordered. The complainant was a
Mr. Rawlins, who having desired the foreign
nuisance to move off, Signor Giovanni—

“ Rushed into Mu. Rawlins’s house, and began to abuse
him most violently, both in Italian and English ; calling
him a ‘thief,’ a ‘ scoundrel,’and a ‘ villain.’ in English,
and in Italian ‘ ladrone ’ and ’ eretico inferno.' ”

Eacinelli Giovanni, or Giovanni Eacinelli,
is evidently an emissary of Rome. Father
Giovanni belongs, no doubt, to the brotherhood
of Ignatius Loyola. His mission is probably
that of trying to make perverts of the cabmen
and costermongers in the disguise of an organ-
grinder. “Eretico inferno ” lets the cat out of
the bag—betrays the cloven foot. Father Gio-
vanni’s Superiors will set him a pretty penanco
for thus allowing his temper to get the better
of him.

Agreeable Taxation.

The expenses of the Chinese War are to be
met by an augmented spirit-duty. Ah! this is-
as it should be. After plunging the nation in
despondency by increasing the Income-Tax, the
Chancellor of the Exchequer exercises a
kind discretion in raising our spirits.

a crammer.

A Candidate for a Government situation
being asked what a Writ in Error was, replied,
“Manuscript, and case of bad spelling.”

PUNCH’S ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

July 16. Monday. It is an unwise thing to give offence to a clever
man. One of these days you are sure to feel the evil consequences of
your imprudence. Especially if he be_ not only a clever but a good
id i

man, ana a professed philanthropist. For though, of course, so far as
he is personally concerned, he freely and fully forgives you, we being
all bound to forgive one another, he is much too conscientious to let
his own amiable feelings render him negligent of the duty he owes to
society. To have wronged a worthy person argues that you are an
unworthy person, and therefore Mr. Worthy, who finds the power of
chastising you entrusted to him, doubtless for a good purpose, dares
not let you escape uncastigated. And then a good man and a profound
philanthropist has such a strong impression made upon his mind by
your naughtiness, from its being so startlingly unlike Ins own conduct,
that your misdeeds are never out of his memory. You are sure to
catch it, one day or other, perhaps when you have quite succeeded in
forgiving yourself, and forgetting the whole business. Mr. Punch
repeats it—never give offence to a good and clever man.

The Publicans and Spirit-dealers should have thought of this maxim
when they were so offensively rude to Mr. Gladstone about the Wine
Licences Bill, and when they exerted themselves to the utmost of their
ability to embarrass the Cabinet during the Budget debates. They
were very brutal, but Mr. Worthy bore their onslaughts with so sweet
a smile, and pleaded with them so elaborately and persuasively, that
though he beat them thoroughly, the Bungs could not suppose he
preserved resentment. He carried his Wine Licences system, and
every cabman now takes his La Rose and Lafitte, and swears furiously
if the bouquet be wanting in the wine. And the Chancellor of the
Exchequer put away his wrong on the shelf to cool, quite sure that
he could warm it up again at the shortest notice. The chance came, as
it always will come if we wait for it, and watch; and it so happened
that England wanted a little more than a Million of money to help to
make up the small amount needed for the Chinese War. “Bless me,”
says Mr. Gladstone, “a million? Dear, dear, that is a considerable
sum. But it must be raised, and we must try to make the business as
easy as possible for the people. Nay, we must endeavour to make it a
boon to them. What a bad habit it is, that of drinking Spirits.
Suppose we discourage it as far as possible. Do you know that if a
couple of shillings a gallon were suddenly clapped on, in addition to
the present duty, there will still be, I deplore to say, Spirit-drinkers
enough to raise One Million and Thirty Thousand Pounds? Suppose
we say One and Elevenpence a gallon?” “Very well,” says the

House of Commons, not inclined to make any more fuss about any-
thing. And down comes the blow, and Bungdomia writhes in
impotent rage.

“ And the grim Lord of 3L. &. IB.,

Has turned him from the ground,

And laughed, in secret, that his blade
The Witler’s thrust so well repaid.”

There was, however, another trifle or so to make up the sum of
£2,336,000, which was wanting to make up about Six Millions for the
Missionary Expedition to China. The process is something like that
which used to go on at a certain theatrical hostel called the Harp, and
well known, olim, to the errant. A stranger taking his seat there
would receive a little note sent by a shabby-genteel looking man in the
corner, and brought by the waiter, and requesting that “ the gentleman,
with whose name the writer had not the honour of being acquainted,
would kindly advance elevenpence to make up a shilling to enable the
writer to obtain a glass of brandy-and-water.” Mr. Gladstone is a
statesman of resources, and he riz the amount with singular ease.
Part he borrowed from the balances in the Exchequer, stating that on
the whole it was really an advantageous thing that they should be SO'
employed—and whence, do you think, he got the rest? Why, from
the Paper Duty, which he had proposed to take off, and which the
Lords insisted on his keeping on. Thus do great chemists extract
medicines from poisonous herbs. Thus does Mr. Gladstone, like the
old Admiral in the song, put his Pigtails in Paper. Thus does
the British Press become (a trifle indirectly) the means of sending
Civilisation through China.

“ Its voice is heard through rolling drums
That beat for fight where Elgin stands,

Its force comes down in Armstrong bombs,

And gives the battle to his hands.”

The business thus described was the principal work of Monday, but
among smaller matters of note were an intimation that we are not to
have the Bronze Pennies till the end of September—a stern protest
against the Chinese War by Mr. Roebuck, and a rather neat justifica-
tion of it by Mr. Gladstone, who had himself sternly protested against
it a short time ago, but who now urged that however objectionable the
original war mignt be, we had a right to fight for a ratification of the
treaty of peace—and an endeavour by Mr. Newdegate to get the
debates closed at one o’clock at night. This attempt was warmly
opposed by Lord Palmerston, who quoted Tom Moore’s allegation.