Punch (56.1869)

PUNCH’S ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

nnUESDAY, December 29. The House of Commons sat but for one
golden hour, and did nothing but cheer the Ministers, and issue
some writs. But mark you now how the hand of a great artist shall beat
out that gold, and give you a longsome and important article. The
fact is that the nation has setup such a clamour for “a lot of Essence,”
as the nation inelegantly puts it, that we cannot deny it such a New-
Year’s Gift, the less that it will get no more until Wednesday the
24th Eebruary.

Eact is, Mr. Punch had some doubt whether it would be prudent in
him, as the father of a family, to resume this Essence at all. Eor he
had been so horribly frightened, ever since the Reform Act passed, at
the terrific warnings of those who called it a Revolution, that he slept
for weeks with revolvers under his pillow, and only discontinued the prac-
tice because they slipped down to his toes, and went off in the night to
the discomfort of his household. Chaff the new Parliament, he thought.
Never. And he beheld in his mind’s eye furious mobs electing savage
Dantons, and Marats, and Robespierres, who immediately formed
themselves into a dreadful tribunal, erected a guillotine in Bride Court,
and brought out Mr. Punch to look through the National Window.
Doubtless he would have met his fate with decency, but to say nothing
of his much preferring not to die at all, consider his life assurances,
which would have been vitiated by his execution. He shuddered, and
resolved that there should be no more Essence.

Then he hid himself, (as it is all over now, he doesn’t mind saying
that it was in the least likely place in all England to be searched, the
abandoned lighthouse on the top of the hill in the enclosed gardens at
Purfleet) and made calculations. He discovered that the Reform Act
would add one Million to the electoral rolls. As this fact flashed upon
him, he became so dreadfully ill that it required all the kindness and a
great deal of the champagne of the excellent hotel at Purfleet to bring
him to anything like a comfortable state.

But he held on somehow, until the elections began. Then, unable
to behold any frantic mobs, except through the mind’s eyes of some
of his contemporaries, he gained a little courage, and abandoned his
fears of the National Window. But he said to himself in a legible
whisper, “ They are going to elect men like the leaders of the Reform
League, pretentious, stuek-up folk, of that detestable class that can
neither give nor take chaff, or of that more detestable class that can

only give and can’t take it.” And then he thought of a majority of
Forcible Eeebles having him pulled up to the bar of the House of
Commons, and asked how he dared smile at the Representatives of the
Millions. “ I will never go down on my knees and ask pardon,” he
said, with a revival of his gallant spirit. “ I have too much pluck, and
respect for my silk stockings for that.” But whether the Essence
should be written or not bothered him, and he asked counsel of friends,
who talked to him the usual nonsense of Friends in Council—not
Mb. Helps’s, who are the wisest and most delightful councillors he
knows.

The Elections were over, and again he fled away to his lighthouse to
consider the returns. You should have seen him come smiling down
the hill, and along the road to order another banquet. He struck the
stars with his sublime head. A Revolution. You be disestablished!

A Revolution, you disendowed fool! Nothing like it. A Capital
Good Parliament, whence lie deplores sundry exclusions (as Mill’s, j
Roebuck’s, and Bruce’s) but composed for the most part of good
men and true, of all parties, but with a great majority pledged to
support his friend Pbelldes. Educated, wealthy, some titled, all
vowing to be governed by no ignorant constituents, but by a resolution
to do justice to all men. And the average age of a Parliament-man in !
1869 is Fifty Two—just the age that a wise man ought to be—until he
becomes fifty-three. That last fact settled him, and he swore that the
Essence of Parliament should appear again, and like old Vauxhall,
with fifty thousand additional lights, every week. And he pledged
himself to do it, too, and took the pledge in Burgundy.

Which pledge—the former, he now proceeds to redeem, and wishes a
Happy New Year to the nation in pledge the latter.

As hath been said, the Commons met, and the newly re-elected
Speaker took the Chair, which means, sat down in it. Took has
various meanings, for which see Toolce’s Diversions of Purley, and you
will not find them.

The Ministerial benches were about half filled, Dut this must not be
taken as ominous of ministerial half measures. With Falstaff, we
hate an unfilled can. But what would have been the use of a large
attendance? There was nothing to do. Why should men spoil their
Christmas holidays ? Echo answers with a profession of inability
to make a satisfactory response. There were very few Opposition I

V cl. 56.

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