Punch (44.1863)

4£

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[January 31, 1863,

A PARADISE IN PIMLICO.

LETTER EROM A BRAHMIN.

O Judy, forgive us! How we
wish that we were single, and
could answer this advertise-
ment !—

A LUXURIOUS HOME for

•LA a well-bred gentleman OF-
FERED in a small family. Dinner
at Six. Superb wine, but optional.
An excellent cook. A good bed-
room and dressing-room with
sponge-bath, pleasant society, and
the range of a well-furnished
house. Terms, two guineas per
week. In the same house a home
offered to a Lady on very reason-
able terms, the leading object being
unexceptionable companionship
for the younger members of the
family. Apply, &c

Superb wine, excellent
cookery, pleasant society,
and a sponge-bath! what
more can a man want to
make his miserable life
happy? And fancy getting
all these luxuries for two
guineas a week ! There must
be some mistake here : surely
twenty must be meant. Why,
two guineas would barely

pay for the superb wine; but perhaps this, being “ optional,” is charged lor as an extra. T here
is a little vagueness, too, about the offer of a “ good bedroom with sponge-bath, pleasant
society, and the range of a well-furnished house.” Is the kitchen range, we wonder,
referred to in this phrase ? and is the pleasant society to be had in the bedroom or the sponge-
bath? We own, were we the “well-bred gentleman” invited to this paradise, we should like
these points cleared up before we made our entry. Possibly the “ younger members ol the
family” may be the so-called “pleasant society” that we are asked to join: and perhaps the
doubtful plirase about the sponge-bath and society would be explained by some few small
boys darting every morning bang into our dressing-room, and behaving m wild iashion as
companions of the bath.

To Mr. John Bull.

“ Sahib, “ East India Booms, Lotidon.

“ I am a Brahmin, but without preju-
dices, and I do not mind defiling myself by
writing to you. I congratulate you, Sahib, on
the evident advance of your country to the
Oriental usages which you tyrannically suppress
in India, at least where you can. You put down
Suttee, or think so. Well, Sahib, now I see that
scarce a day passes but you offer up one of your
women a sacrifice by fire to the Idol Crinoline\
than whom, Sahib, our symbolic mythology
has nothing more monstrous or more improper.
And, Sahib, you improve upon us. We only
burned widows whom, generally speaking, it is
unobjectionable to burn. But you offer up to-
your ugly Idol your youngest and fairest, the
Lights of your Harems. Sahib, again salu-
tations. Siva the Destroyer smiles upon you.

“ Your well-wisher,

“Kehama Juggernauth.”

“ Changing Names.”

W hat a noise and a fuss there has been made
about changing names! Of course, all the bother
has been raised by gentlemen. Now, we must
say in favour of the beautiful sex, that we do not
know a single young lady (we say advisedly, a
single young lady) who would have been half so
particular. On the contrary, we do not know any
persons who change their names with a greater
willingness and a more becoming grace than
ladies. In fact, we believe, that the sooner they
change them the better they are pleased.

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AN AUCTIONEER IN THE PULPIT.

The subjoined item of intelligence, from the Times, may interest Mr.
Spurgeon•—

“Profitable Preaching.—On the first Sunday of the new year, the Rev. Henry
Ward Beecher announced to his congregation (Brooklyn, New York) that the pew-
rents for last year amounted to $18,549. Notice was given that the sittings for the
present year would be let at public auction that evening. ”

The conclusion of the foregoing statement might furnish Spurgeon
with a valuable hint—which, however, he would doubtless be ashamed
to take. Otherwise, what an income the Tabernacle would return, if,
like Mr. Beecher’s meeting-house, the sittings in it were annually put
up to auction! But Mr. Spurgeon has a certain sense of decency
which distinguishes him from an American clergyman.

We should like to know in what pulpit the sittings in the Rev.
Mr. Beecher’s conventicle were sold by auction. Was it that of the
sacred edifice itself ? Who officiated in it ? Did the Rev. Gentleman
combine the functions of parson and auctioneer? We can without
difficulty imagine a Yankee minister acting in either capacity, not only
alternately but even at once. He might at one and the same time, in
puffing his chapel, sound the spiritual alarm, and blow his own
trumpet—the latter especially giving no uncertain sound. “ How
many dollars shall I say for a sitting under this eloquent preacher?
Shall I say ten ? Only ten dollars for the privilege of listening to soul-
stirring eloquence and saving doctrine! Ten dollars only! ^ Fifteen;
thank you, Sir. A seat under an awakening minister going for fifteen
dollars ! Real genuine manna from the lips of this gifted minister!
Celestial, clear grit! Only fifteen! Nobody bid more ? Twenty;
thank you, Sirree. Dew of Hermon only twenty dollars! Balm of
Gilead, warranted pure, going at twenty! At twenty going, like
many a youth and maiden, perishing ere their prime. Flowers
nipped afore they’re scarce out of the bud. Going at twenty dollars.
Such is life—even as this sitting under a powerful minister ! Going
at twenty, such is this here transitory existence ! Going, going, going
—gone! ”

The foregoing conjectural example of pulpit oratory may convey some
faint idea of the language which the Rev. Mr. Beecher may be con-
ceived to suit to the action of knocking down sittings on the pulpit
cushion, or a desk on his platform, if that is the elevation whence he
holds forth, and whereon he wields the hammer.

THE NAGGLETONS AETER DINNER.

A Dinner Tarty, given by the distinguished couple, is over, and the
Naggletons have descended to the dining-room. Mr. Naggleton
is lighting a cigar, and preparmg to have, as he says, one quarter
of an hour’s comfort.

Mrs. Naggleton. I think you might take that cigar into the library,
Henry, if you are unable to go to bed without smoking. 1 would not
be the slave to a habit, were I a man.

Mr. N. {shortly.) There is no fire in what you are pleased to call the
library. _ 1

Mrs. N. {perceiving that this fortification is impregnable.) Then I will
go to bed. I suppose that a wife ought to be driven from her own j
dining-room.

Mr. N. {who has had some of the wine he has been hospitably imparting.)<
There was a time when the cigar was pronounced rather an ornament
to the masculine lip, and when its flavour was declared to be rather
pleasant than otherwise, “ but those days have passed, Climanthe.”

Mrs. N. What an unmanly memory you have ! Throwing into one’s |
face any casual expression of years gone by. At any rate, I never said
that a dining-room ought to smell like a public-house parlour.

Mr. N. I have accused you of no such vulgarity, my dear. The [
dinner went off tolerably well, all things considered.

Mrs. N. All guests considered, you had better say. But of course I
never expect a civil word in return for my trouble in such matters.

Mr. N. {blandly.) 1 didn’t know you had taken any, or my acknow-
ledgments should have been ready. I had credited our respected
neighbour, the pastrycook, with the merit of the achievement. Accept j
my apologies ; and as you are near the—the—if I might name it, perhaps
you would push the bottle this way.

Mrs. N. It seems to me that you have had enough of that j kind of
thing. I should like to see Mr. Snotchley coming back into the-
room after a party, and beginning to drink by himself.

Mr. N. So should I, because it would show that he wasn’t quite the- !
prig I consider him. But to do him justice, he did it to my claret j
to-night.

Mrs. N. I think that it was very kind of him to stay five minutes
after the ladies had retired, considering the sort of conversation which
Mr. Wyndham Wareham: chose to set going, and which of course you
must help on.