Punch (62.1872)

Mat 18, 1872.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

201

"HERE BE TRUTHS!"

Art Critic (who, having " liquored up " considerably, fails to observe that as yet he
is only in the Lobby of the Sale-Room, and is standing before a Mirror which, pur-
chased at a previous Sale, still retains its Ticket). " Ah ! Portrait 'f Gen'leman,
I sh'pose—(hieI —writes)—Drawing Exsh'cr'ble—great Want 'Taste in the
Choice 'f Shubject!—fit only for a Place in 'Tap-Room of 'Public-
'Ouse ! ! "

MAGEE BEFORE MANNING.

Two Bishops, by different tailors arrayed,
One known to the law, and the other PoPE-made,
Both anxious to make men from guzzle abstain,
By different methods their object would gain.

Says Manning—" That drink's such a terrible thing,

Such ruin and wreck on its victims does bring,

I claim that a certain majority's vote

Shut doors interpose may 'twixt tipple and throat.

An evil it is, humankind to infest,
Too gross to be suffered ; it must be repressed.
Of liquor—to stem luBh if other means fail—
I say, let a Maine Law prohibit the sale."

Our Bishop would men from excess have desist
Induced by such means as with virtue consist.
" Free England and sober I wish," says Magee,
" But if free or sober, why then England—Free."

The titular Prelate speaks such prelates' mind ;
For they to their aprons would pin all mankind :
"Would subject the world, if they could, to priest-rule,
And grown-up folk govern as children at school.

The Prelate we own, with a far other ken,
Discerns that men need to be governed as men ;
That poor slaves of Yice will be slaves of Yice still,
For all check imposed on the acts of their will.

Were Englishmen sober like slaves, from their swipes,
Unwilling, restrained but by terror of stripes,
Might evil not then find a vent in worse works
Than even the sots'—were they sober as Turks ?

No, pedants and priests, Britons drink may eschew,
By choice, but not schooled like your kiss-my-rod crew.
No rod for them save what, with masterly touch,
Punch lays on the fellows who liquor too much.

A Mistaken Idea.

When Count Beust, in his speech at the Literary
Fund Dinner—one of the best made on that occasion
—said that though the youngest of the Diplomatic
Body '1 he could not aspire to the eminence of a Ben-
jamin," thoughtless people imagined that His Excel-
lency meant a complimentary reference to Mr. Disraeli,
who was present, and one of the chief speakers.

MRS. CHURCHER'S COMFORT.

0 shocking ! Dreadful! Here is things come to a pretty pass
indeed.

Talkin', in Convocation too, agin the Athanasian Creed.
Some wants to clip and cut it down—and Clergymen—I don't know
whether

Some others on 'em ain't inclined for to expinge it altogether.

0 yes !—and then there's some besides with which I ain't a got no

patience:

Let it stand how it stands, says they, but soaped with notes and
explanations.

Why, if 'twas all explained, and one quite understood it when one
read it,

Believin' on it every word would then no longer be no credit.

But there is parts of it you can't mistake their purpose and intention;
Them clauses of a certain name which out of Church 'tis wrong to
mention;

Hand therefore which a femil pen to name without hysterics* pauses;
Suppose, however, if you please, we says the drattatory clauses.

They 're clear enough, straight up, right down, smack smooth, and

no mistake whatever ;
There's none pertends they 're dubersome but sitch as is by half too

clever.

Get out with your non-nateral sense, all sorts of contradictions
screenin';

1 takes 'em in tbe littery, plain English, dixonary meanin'.

* Mrs. C. is supposed to mean asterisks.

Even a heathen Lord, 1' ve heer d, a Poet, owned they give him pleasure,
They lay the law down so distink, in sitch a cumpherensive measure.
Then much more them that never let their minds with hargiment be
shaken,

And leastways there is sure they han't no cause to tremble for their
bacon.

Not what I wants to have that full and true account of my persua-
sions

Repeated every Sunday ; no, but only upon grand occasions.
St. Athanasius' Creed I calls a treat which more than we deserve is,
I Poor creaturs, than for to be let have said or sung at common service.

■ Keep it, but read no more, some says—my nose turns up at 'em like
inions.

Yah, Jerry Sneaks that han't a got the courage of their own
opinions !

But thanks be praised, there won't be no sitch base and wild accom-
modation.

Yes, thankful 'tis we ought to be there's one staunch 'Ouse of
Convocation.

The Athanasian Creed ne'er read! One's sperrits what a dismal
gloom on!

Drat all that of her comfort would at Church deprive a poor old'ooman.
And quite a link, as I may say, of 'eavenly f eelins would be broken ;
Like 'avin' to 'ear that sweet word, Mesopotamia, no more spoken.

Twelfth Night; or, What You Won't.

Sir Toby. Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall
be no more cakes and ale ?

Malvolio. As many cakes as you please, but no ale at all.

Vol. 62.

7