May 2, l«68.j
187
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
PORTRAIT RAMBLINGS.
N our return from
the Horticultural
Show, met. Sir Wil-
liam Temple, with
a bundle of aspa-
jagus in his hand,
which he gave to
Tradescant, the gar-
dener, who was
walking arm-in-arm
with Sir Walter
Raleigh down Eliza-
beth Throgmorton
Street. The Knight
kissed his hand to
the Duchess of
Feria, looking out
from a Dormer win-
dow on the Spanish
galleons going to
the Tower, and
asked her whether
she was present
the nieht before at
the 300th represen-
tation of “ Gammer Gorton’s Needle,” when who should touch him
on the sleeve, unperceived till that very moment, but the reputed
author—” Still so gently o’er me stealing,” was Sir Walter’s rather
neat salutation to the dramatic Bishop, ns he crossed Berners Street,
and got, mixed up with the Delawarr Indians, slashed with crimson
(escorted by Sir Charles Cotterell, M C.) coming from a conversazione
given by the Pharmaceutical Society in the Library of Holland House,
and then on their way to George Heriot’s Hospital, to see the collec-
tion formed by Brookes, the anatomist, rather to the annoyance of
Cobbett, who was returning from one of his “ Rural Rides” on the
Derwent.water estates, where he had joined Wordsworth, always fond
of an “ Excursion,” Lamb. Sheil, curiously enough at that time Master
of the Mint, and Denzil Holies, the last of the “ Five Members ” of
the party to arrive. As soon as he came in from shooting at Ranton
Abbey, and had changed his ribbed stockings—a present from Strutt,
the inventor, on his marriage with Kitty Clive—which were wet after
a long walk across the Plains of Abraham, the party sat down to a
rubber, Whiston cutting in without any controversy with Mulready,
Sir Charles Wager betting on the odd trick, and giving Admiral Penn
a Rook(e) at chess, Home varying the entertainment by reciting “ My
name is Norval,” and helping Father Mathew and Whitbread to brew
some punch a la Romaine, which Abernetby enjoyed greatly with a
biscuit, while Dibdin, lately elected a member of the Catch Club, sang
“Tom Bowling” to the delight of Fielding, Earl of Denbigh, and
Stump, the Portrait Painter, who had just lefr, St. George’s Hospital.
The harmony of the meeting was interrupted by Byron and Lord
Elgin beginning to quarrel over Marbles, which so annoyed Horner
and Pye Smith that they sent for a Constable ; but Dance took other
measures, and matters were restored to a friendly footing, so that Sir
William Ross was able to go on painting his miniatures at the Polar
Regions, where he would have treated Master Lambton to see Lord
Keane as “ Hamlet ” if Croker had not taken his Murray, and accom-
panied a Beckett and the Archbishop of Canterbury to Paris on a
Trigonometrical Survey from a Barrow. Somebody knocked at the
door, and asked if Mr. Mathews was “ At Home ” ; Sir Humphry
was ready to take his Davy that he had gone to the Lyceum with
Arnold the composer, but Dr. Farnaby, the school-master, told Spel-
man that he had seen him at the Rugby Station with Usher, earnestly
talking to Lord Somerville about his breed of Merinos, which Hogg,
(the Ettrick Shepherd, to whom the Highland Society had lately
awarded their premium for his “ Essay on Sheep,”) thought superior
to the Edgeworths’ “ Irish Bulls.” Nobody was fleeced, for very
fortunately Payne Knight sauntered in with Day — “ Sandford and
Merton” Day, — fresh from Oxford, and persuaded Southey to go for
“ The Doctor,” who had not been gone five minutes when Adding-
ton drove up in his Clarence, and invited Dr. Price to reduce the
National Debt over a glass of brandy-and-water, the best thing pc>s-
sible for any uneasiness in the Pitt of the stomach, as that distin-
guished member of the theatrical profession, Parsons, once, when he
was not himself, but Moody, told Bishop and Priestley, at Abbotsford,
the evening they joined Dean Vincent at a game of Howe, when, and
where, with Cromwell’s Chaplain, who—the Duke of Wellington, newly
elected for Trim, was an eye-witness, with Travers, the oculist—
caught Mrs. Trimmer at Blind Man’s Buff, and declaring that the
more the merrier, dragged Hannah More away to croquet, as she
Lingard with De Quincey in full Highland costume, on Clapbam
Common, brilliantly illuminated with Drummond’s Jime-light, dis-
cussing Sir Henry Pottinger and the Opium War, which reminded
Mrs. Opie of an anecdote John Kemble told her of the “ O. P.” riots,
the year Queen Caroline induced “Palmyra” Wood to accompany
Wedgwood and Potter to Pitcairn’s Island, on an expedition with
Withering the botanist, who found Paleyfishing for compliments (Clerk
of Eldin had “broken the line”) and Lord Grey of Rolleston reading
Foul Play to Gifford, feeling somewhat sore at having been cut up by
Sir Charles Bell, who, however, soon gave him his “Hand;” so
Bloomfield went back to his shoemaking, and Jerrold’s last was re-
peated by Sydney Smith to Melbourne, Lord Abinger laughing till he
was Scarlett again, and Coleridge and his Frend intoned “ The Ancient
Mariner” to Nelson and Miss Bronte, which the Members of the Lunar
Society pronounced to be all moonshine, although George Selwyn,
who had been with Romilly to see Sarah Malcolm hanged by Lord
Norbury on Telford’s Suspension Bridge, and from thence to Tatter-
sail’s for his Mackintosh, declared John Scott’s lot to be a capital one,
for he was then Attorney-General and sure to be Chancellor, as Lord
Denman remarked, when he told Dr. Arne, that the Court granted
him a Rule Britannia, an opinion in which Sheridan, who had left
Home, and gone to Law, at Stoke Pogis, to escape a Dunning, entirely
coincided, contrary to the prospectus of the Dilettanti Society (Sheri-
dan’s friend, Mrs. Malaprop, called them the Dilatory Society) dining
together periodically about the time when Thomas Campbell was
editing magazines, and despatching Holman, the Blind Traveller,
on an expedition to Lyons, the Lord Keeper to Coventry, where
Buckland had found the Great Seal, and Richard the Second to the
Jerusalem Chamber, in which retreat that Monarch was discovered by
the Duke of Richmond administering Dr. Gregory’s powder, wrapped
up in Emery paper and diBguised in Farren-aceous food, to Davies
Gilbert in such profuse quantities, that the distinguished P.R.S. turned
Giddy again, and could only gasp out that his initials were L.E.L.,
and that he loved “Perdita” Robinson better than “ Spectrum Ana-
lysis,” which Sir Charles Wale and the Prince of Wales both heard,
as well as all “ The Medical Officers of the Army,” who got Leveridge
to play the “Roast Beef of Old England” to Joah Bates, at that
particular instant in the Abbey, conducting himself, as usual, very
creditably, and endeavouring to convince “ Sir Plume ” that the part
he played in the “ Rape of the Lock” was a feather in his cap, whilst
Commodore Trunnion and the Duchess of Kingston had to listen to
such a Jeremiad from Bentham that Mrs. Jordan, Bland as ever, began
to sing—“and shall Trelawny-”
(Here the MS. breaks off, never, let us hope, to be resumed, The
only intelligible account that can be given of these unconnected, un-
finished “ Ramblings” (fitly named) is that our Contributor had been
at the National Portrait Exhibition the whole of the day, and falling
asleep after his great exertions and dinner, still clutching the Catalogue
with both hands, was the sport of a fantastic and dyspeptic dream.)
SOME MISUNDERSTANDING.
Mr. Punch has been surprised by receiving the following infor-
mation from a distinguished physician :—
“ Sir,-—At page 136 of your current volume you describe me as a prig and a
humbug."
The letter thus commencing is signed James Edmunds, M.D. Mr.
Punch never applied, or ever dreamt of applying, the terms Prig and
Humbug to Dr. James Edmunds. On reference it will be found that
those are merely the words of an angry smoker in a dialogue, who is
inveighing against an Association which he dislikes—the Anti-Tobacco
Society—in the mass. A preceding enumeration of persons advertised to
attend a meeting of that body happens to include the name of a Dr.
Edmunds, who, for aught Mr. Punch knew, might have been a Doctor
of Laws, or Divinity. He had not the least idea that Dr. James
Edmunds was a Member of the Anti-Tobacco Society, and is by no
means sure that he is now. Dr. James Edmunds writes especially in
the character of Honorary Secretary to the Female Medical Society.
That is quite another thing. Has he actually read what he complains
of, or has he been misinformed ?
“ When he Stamped, Sir, I Stamped.”
Dr. Johnson.
The “ Great Tichbourne Case,” as it is called, has been introduced
at Tattersall’s, and made the subject of speculation. We hear that the
last odds were ten to one in favour of the claimant’s succeeding to the
title and estates.—Land and Water.
Very good puff. Every little helps. But in a legal assembly, where
perhaps human evidence may be as well understood as equine pedigree
at Tattersall’s, the betting the other night was ten to one in favour of
the Baby Baronet.—Fire and Air.
A. Those ultra Ritualists are Papists without doubt.
B. Say rather. Papists without the P.
187
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
PORTRAIT RAMBLINGS.
N our return from
the Horticultural
Show, met. Sir Wil-
liam Temple, with
a bundle of aspa-
jagus in his hand,
which he gave to
Tradescant, the gar-
dener, who was
walking arm-in-arm
with Sir Walter
Raleigh down Eliza-
beth Throgmorton
Street. The Knight
kissed his hand to
the Duchess of
Feria, looking out
from a Dormer win-
dow on the Spanish
galleons going to
the Tower, and
asked her whether
she was present
the nieht before at
the 300th represen-
tation of “ Gammer Gorton’s Needle,” when who should touch him
on the sleeve, unperceived till that very moment, but the reputed
author—” Still so gently o’er me stealing,” was Sir Walter’s rather
neat salutation to the dramatic Bishop, ns he crossed Berners Street,
and got, mixed up with the Delawarr Indians, slashed with crimson
(escorted by Sir Charles Cotterell, M C.) coming from a conversazione
given by the Pharmaceutical Society in the Library of Holland House,
and then on their way to George Heriot’s Hospital, to see the collec-
tion formed by Brookes, the anatomist, rather to the annoyance of
Cobbett, who was returning from one of his “ Rural Rides” on the
Derwent.water estates, where he had joined Wordsworth, always fond
of an “ Excursion,” Lamb. Sheil, curiously enough at that time Master
of the Mint, and Denzil Holies, the last of the “ Five Members ” of
the party to arrive. As soon as he came in from shooting at Ranton
Abbey, and had changed his ribbed stockings—a present from Strutt,
the inventor, on his marriage with Kitty Clive—which were wet after
a long walk across the Plains of Abraham, the party sat down to a
rubber, Whiston cutting in without any controversy with Mulready,
Sir Charles Wager betting on the odd trick, and giving Admiral Penn
a Rook(e) at chess, Home varying the entertainment by reciting “ My
name is Norval,” and helping Father Mathew and Whitbread to brew
some punch a la Romaine, which Abernetby enjoyed greatly with a
biscuit, while Dibdin, lately elected a member of the Catch Club, sang
“Tom Bowling” to the delight of Fielding, Earl of Denbigh, and
Stump, the Portrait Painter, who had just lefr, St. George’s Hospital.
The harmony of the meeting was interrupted by Byron and Lord
Elgin beginning to quarrel over Marbles, which so annoyed Horner
and Pye Smith that they sent for a Constable ; but Dance took other
measures, and matters were restored to a friendly footing, so that Sir
William Ross was able to go on painting his miniatures at the Polar
Regions, where he would have treated Master Lambton to see Lord
Keane as “ Hamlet ” if Croker had not taken his Murray, and accom-
panied a Beckett and the Archbishop of Canterbury to Paris on a
Trigonometrical Survey from a Barrow. Somebody knocked at the
door, and asked if Mr. Mathews was “ At Home ” ; Sir Humphry
was ready to take his Davy that he had gone to the Lyceum with
Arnold the composer, but Dr. Farnaby, the school-master, told Spel-
man that he had seen him at the Rugby Station with Usher, earnestly
talking to Lord Somerville about his breed of Merinos, which Hogg,
(the Ettrick Shepherd, to whom the Highland Society had lately
awarded their premium for his “ Essay on Sheep,”) thought superior
to the Edgeworths’ “ Irish Bulls.” Nobody was fleeced, for very
fortunately Payne Knight sauntered in with Day — “ Sandford and
Merton” Day, — fresh from Oxford, and persuaded Southey to go for
“ The Doctor,” who had not been gone five minutes when Adding-
ton drove up in his Clarence, and invited Dr. Price to reduce the
National Debt over a glass of brandy-and-water, the best thing pc>s-
sible for any uneasiness in the Pitt of the stomach, as that distin-
guished member of the theatrical profession, Parsons, once, when he
was not himself, but Moody, told Bishop and Priestley, at Abbotsford,
the evening they joined Dean Vincent at a game of Howe, when, and
where, with Cromwell’s Chaplain, who—the Duke of Wellington, newly
elected for Trim, was an eye-witness, with Travers, the oculist—
caught Mrs. Trimmer at Blind Man’s Buff, and declaring that the
more the merrier, dragged Hannah More away to croquet, as she
Lingard with De Quincey in full Highland costume, on Clapbam
Common, brilliantly illuminated with Drummond’s Jime-light, dis-
cussing Sir Henry Pottinger and the Opium War, which reminded
Mrs. Opie of an anecdote John Kemble told her of the “ O. P.” riots,
the year Queen Caroline induced “Palmyra” Wood to accompany
Wedgwood and Potter to Pitcairn’s Island, on an expedition with
Withering the botanist, who found Paleyfishing for compliments (Clerk
of Eldin had “broken the line”) and Lord Grey of Rolleston reading
Foul Play to Gifford, feeling somewhat sore at having been cut up by
Sir Charles Bell, who, however, soon gave him his “Hand;” so
Bloomfield went back to his shoemaking, and Jerrold’s last was re-
peated by Sydney Smith to Melbourne, Lord Abinger laughing till he
was Scarlett again, and Coleridge and his Frend intoned “ The Ancient
Mariner” to Nelson and Miss Bronte, which the Members of the Lunar
Society pronounced to be all moonshine, although George Selwyn,
who had been with Romilly to see Sarah Malcolm hanged by Lord
Norbury on Telford’s Suspension Bridge, and from thence to Tatter-
sail’s for his Mackintosh, declared John Scott’s lot to be a capital one,
for he was then Attorney-General and sure to be Chancellor, as Lord
Denman remarked, when he told Dr. Arne, that the Court granted
him a Rule Britannia, an opinion in which Sheridan, who had left
Home, and gone to Law, at Stoke Pogis, to escape a Dunning, entirely
coincided, contrary to the prospectus of the Dilettanti Society (Sheri-
dan’s friend, Mrs. Malaprop, called them the Dilatory Society) dining
together periodically about the time when Thomas Campbell was
editing magazines, and despatching Holman, the Blind Traveller,
on an expedition to Lyons, the Lord Keeper to Coventry, where
Buckland had found the Great Seal, and Richard the Second to the
Jerusalem Chamber, in which retreat that Monarch was discovered by
the Duke of Richmond administering Dr. Gregory’s powder, wrapped
up in Emery paper and diBguised in Farren-aceous food, to Davies
Gilbert in such profuse quantities, that the distinguished P.R.S. turned
Giddy again, and could only gasp out that his initials were L.E.L.,
and that he loved “Perdita” Robinson better than “ Spectrum Ana-
lysis,” which Sir Charles Wale and the Prince of Wales both heard,
as well as all “ The Medical Officers of the Army,” who got Leveridge
to play the “Roast Beef of Old England” to Joah Bates, at that
particular instant in the Abbey, conducting himself, as usual, very
creditably, and endeavouring to convince “ Sir Plume ” that the part
he played in the “ Rape of the Lock” was a feather in his cap, whilst
Commodore Trunnion and the Duchess of Kingston had to listen to
such a Jeremiad from Bentham that Mrs. Jordan, Bland as ever, began
to sing—“and shall Trelawny-”
(Here the MS. breaks off, never, let us hope, to be resumed, The
only intelligible account that can be given of these unconnected, un-
finished “ Ramblings” (fitly named) is that our Contributor had been
at the National Portrait Exhibition the whole of the day, and falling
asleep after his great exertions and dinner, still clutching the Catalogue
with both hands, was the sport of a fantastic and dyspeptic dream.)
SOME MISUNDERSTANDING.
Mr. Punch has been surprised by receiving the following infor-
mation from a distinguished physician :—
“ Sir,-—At page 136 of your current volume you describe me as a prig and a
humbug."
The letter thus commencing is signed James Edmunds, M.D. Mr.
Punch never applied, or ever dreamt of applying, the terms Prig and
Humbug to Dr. James Edmunds. On reference it will be found that
those are merely the words of an angry smoker in a dialogue, who is
inveighing against an Association which he dislikes—the Anti-Tobacco
Society—in the mass. A preceding enumeration of persons advertised to
attend a meeting of that body happens to include the name of a Dr.
Edmunds, who, for aught Mr. Punch knew, might have been a Doctor
of Laws, or Divinity. He had not the least idea that Dr. James
Edmunds was a Member of the Anti-Tobacco Society, and is by no
means sure that he is now. Dr. James Edmunds writes especially in
the character of Honorary Secretary to the Female Medical Society.
That is quite another thing. Has he actually read what he complains
of, or has he been misinformed ?
“ When he Stamped, Sir, I Stamped.”
Dr. Johnson.
The “ Great Tichbourne Case,” as it is called, has been introduced
at Tattersall’s, and made the subject of speculation. We hear that the
last odds were ten to one in favour of the claimant’s succeeding to the
title and estates.—Land and Water.
Very good puff. Every little helps. But in a legal assembly, where
perhaps human evidence may be as well understood as equine pedigree
at Tattersall’s, the betting the other night was ten to one in favour of
the Baby Baronet.—Fire and Air.
A. Those ultra Ritualists are Papists without doubt.
B. Say rather. Papists without the P.