Punch (44.1863)

March 28, 1863.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

PUNCH’S ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

March 16, Monday. The City Road petitioned the Lords to protect
it against the Late Eastern Counties Vandals, and to save Finsbury
Circus. These localities will become interesting to the novel-reading
world, now that the very clever author of a capital story, Too Much
Alone, has had the courage to make the Tower wharf, the Minories,
Eishopsgate Street, and the rest of the terra incognita of the East, the
scene of a non-sensation book with an admirable moral. We hope that
Finsbury Circus will be spared to be similarly dealt with. A beautiful
young Catholic lady, coming from mass at Moorfields Chapel, might be
beheld bv an elegant young dark-eyed Dissenter emerging from the
chapel built for the late Rev. Alexander Fletcher, and the graceful
schismatic might win the heart of the lovely superstitionist by pre-
senting her with tickets, signed by Mr. Tite, M. P., for a course of
Professor Owen’s lectures at the London Institution. On second
thoughts, Mr. Punch registers this idea, and the Circus also.

The attention of tlhe Commons was called to a defect in the law of
Life Assurances. It would be a great comfort and blessing, to thou-
! sands were a man able to assure his life for his widow and children in
a way which should place this provision beyond the reach of any credi-
tors whose claims are less stringent than those of his own flesh and
blood. Why does not some rising young lawyer introduce a short Act
for effecting this object. As for other creditors, a man could work
much more heartily for them when his mind had been set at ease by the
knowledge that his family was provided for.

There was a Greek debate, opened by Mr. Baillie Cochrane, who
charged our Government with deluding Greece with false hopes that we
should give her Prince Alfred. The Prince and his friends abroad
do not seem to have shared in this delusion, if a Scottish Bishop, who
has been delivering a good speech at Inverness, is rightly informed.
As soon as the other Middies heard that the Prince had been elected,
the Bishop says that they made him a coronet of candles, with which
they solemnly crowned His Royal Highness as King of Grease. Lord
Palmerston did not mention this anecdote in his defence, but he
denied that, we had deceived the Greeks, and said that they had elected
the Prince merely as a compliment to Queen Victoria. Several good
men spoke, but there was not much said that was noteworthy, except
Mr. Cave’s unhesitating declaration, that every Greek who wore
breeches was for English sovereignty.

After this came another Army Estimates Debate, and Colonel
North elicited the curious explanation from Government, that certain
officers were allowed twopence a day extra for forage for their horses,
because they—the officers—were educated. “ But the horses are not
educated,” said the Colonel, simply. In the dame’s school story, the
educational programme stated that the terms for schooling were two-
pence a week, “and them as learns grammar twopence more.” Perhaps
the horses are taught grammar—we must ask General Knollys.

Tuesday. Pen almost fails to describe the horror of this night, and
vide Cartoon for the assistance rendered by pencil. Mr. Somes asked
leave to bring in a Bill for closing all Public Houses all Sunday.
Resistance was offered—we should think so—but he obtained leave by
a very large majority, and next day but one brought his Bill in. Patrician
champagne and Plebeian beer are alike foaming at this fanatical outrage,
but Mr. Punch's picture will settle the question, and the ridiculous
Somes will be smashed on the Second Reading.

There was a Names debate. Mr. Roebuck brought up the case of
Mr. Jones of Wales, who insisted on being Mr. PIerbert ; and it turns
out that Lord Llanover, instead of oppressing Jones, loves that
young Welshman with the sincerest affection, and only wished him to
change his name in the way which his Lordship held to be alone legal.
There was some fun during the debate. Reference was made to Mr.
Bug, who now calls himself Norfolk-Howard, and we hope that Mr.
Harper Twelvetrees will notice this, and alter his advertisements of
a certain powder into recommendation of a Norfolk-Howard Destroyer.
Certainly it will be pleasanter for Materfamilias, when she takes Mar-
gate lodgings, to demand an assurance that there are no Norfolk-
Howards in the house. Mr. Roebuck thought it was hard upon a
young lady to be called Miss Shuttlecock, and so think we, unless she
is a Cork girl who wears feathers. The law seems to be, that anybody
may call himself anything which he can get other persons to call him.

Wednesday.' Dr. Brady brought on his Bill for preventing diseased
folks from riding in public cabs. There is difficulty in making a law on
the subject. Nobody but a scoundrel will wittingly put into a cab a
person who may infect it. But who is to be the arbiter ? Is a cabman,
who may not want to take a.fare, to be able to refuse it on the pretence
that he thinks the party hailing looks ailing. It was suggested that
stretchers, to be kept at every Police Station, would obviate the
practice ; but who is to carry them—and would not a sick person be
horribly frightened at the idea of being carried off on a stretcher ? The
Marquis of Punch sees nothing for it but this. Everybody ought to
keep a carriage of his own, and it doesn’t much matter what happens to
\nybody who can’t. Dr. Brady (whose version of the Psalms, written

in conjunction with Dr. Tait, Bishop of London, is without merit)
postponed the debate.

Thursday. The Lords fired away at the City for its bad police
arrangements the other day, and the Duke of Cambridge said that he
had offered military assistance, which was at first refused, though some
Artillerymen were afterwards accepted. He was perfectly right in
adding that the Volunteers ought not to be employed in keeping
crowds in order. It is not the business of our Household Guard to do
the work of A 179, or Private Billy Jones ; neither, we apprehend,
is a mob half as much awe-stricken by a Volunteer as by a lobster or
a peeler.

Mr. Longfield asked a question of no present interest in itself, but
rendered pointed by its wording. He inquired as to the position of a
certain dispute between our Government and the “late United States”
of America. Mr. Layard answered, calling that Confederation the
“ United States,” and is said by the Morning Star, which is excessively
jealous of any sort of slight to theFederals, to have rebuked Mr. Long-
field by a marked inflexion of voice. If such subtleties of debate are
to be habitual, the House must engage an elocution-master. We should
like to hear him at drill. “ Now, Mr. Brown, more pathos in your
‘ profound regret..’ ” “ Mr. Jones, throw more sincerity and force into
your ‘ respectful attention.’ ” “ Mr. Robinson, your ‘ decided contra-
diction’ is abominably flat.” If Mr. Walter Lacy had not been
collared by the Royal Academy of Music to teach the young singing
ladies not to mumble their words, we should recommend him to the
Speaker.

Mr. Ayrton made a pathetic speech against Mr. Gladstone’s
tobacco arrangements, and depicted the sufferings which would, be
caused to those who at present live by making cabbages into Pickwicks,
but the House was against him by a large majority,

“ And stem Peelides marched upon his way.”

He said something about Sweetening Cavendish, whereat divers of the
light-minded turned to the Members for North Derbyshire and Bucks,
who looked as sweet as they conveniently could at short notice.

Then we went at this terrible Bill for Preventing Bribery at Elec-
tions. The new code is to be perfectly Draconian. As somebody said,
some of the treatment is more severe than in cases of murder. This
was literally true; for though a borough is not exactly to be hanged for
allowing bribery, it is to be suspended for five years. There are some
other awful enactments, and when the Bill has passed, Mr. Punch will
present it in a popular form, in order that the nation may be warned.
Suppose a General Election, and bribery everywhere. Is the whole
House to be shut up for five years, while the Lords carry on its business ?
Meantime Vigilance Committees must be formed in every constituency,
and if even a baby is chucked under its wet chin by a candidate, that
baby must be sent to the Foundling, and its guilty parents to the
County Gaol.

More Saxon oppression. Sir Robert Peel (who, let us say, is
pushing through Hibernian work like a man, and totally without regard
to anybody’s corns), brings in a Bill for inflicting compulsory vaccina-
tion on the Irish. Surely here is matter for inflammatory gatherings.
Will Erin be cowed ? The next thing her tyrants will demand will be
that her infants shall be vaccinated from English Children.

Friday. Lord Palmerston promised Mr. Ferrand a night for a
discussion outlie condition of “ the half-million cotton operatives living
in idleness.” The subject should be in better hands than Mr. Fer-
rand’s, and should be taken from him by some one with a statesman’s
reputation. The debate ought to be worthy of a subject of such impor-
tance.

Mr. Baxter enraged many Members, who wanted to get away and
see the Princess of Wales at her first evening party, by bringing on the
Galway business at great length. There was a debate, but Mr. Ben-
tinck, of Norfolk, put the thing succinctly—he had no doubt that the
affair was originated by his friends the Tories as a political job, and was
taken up by the Liberals as a political job, and there never was and
never would be a Government that did not job. Pam, who has skill
both as a ground and lofty tumbler, did the lofty dodge on this occa-
sion, and called on Baxter to elevate his mind and believe in virtuous
intentions. Baxter and 45 other cynics declined to do anything of
the sort, but 108 went in for Palmerston and virtue, and Galway
is to be civilised with public money.

A vote of £321,884, or some such trifle, was taken for the Volunteers,
and Mr. Punch hurried off to Buckingham Palace to see his beautiful
Princess in a dress of white silver moire, covered with a dress of Brus-
sels lace.

Indeed!

A Correspondent who signs himself “ American Penn,” and writes
in Indian Ink, says that he has an Indian ink-ling of our inability to tell
him what kind of noise a savage makes when he tattoos his body ? We
will refresh ourselves with a modicum drawn from the treasures of
Ind—that is, of Inde & Coop—and consider the subject which, after
all, is one of perfect Ind-difference to us.