Punch (70.1876)

152

[April 15, 1876.

A BRITTLE SEAL.

A8

sacerdo'ta'lis'.t Corre-
spondent, hailing 'from
near the London Docks,
denies that a "crucifix"
■was carried in procession
at a Ritualistic performance
at Southampton, lately com-
mented on by Mr. Punch.
The description was copied
from a local paper. If " cru-
cifix " should
have been
" cross "—what
then?

He also de-
nies that auri-
cular confession
is a practice
which, as a
practice, the
Estah li sh e d
Church ignores.
In witness he
quotes one of
the Canons of
1603, relative
to it as an oc-
casional and
optional act,

and forbidding any Minister to reveal and make known "any
crime or offence committed to his trust and secresy (except they be
such crimes as by the laws of this realm his own life may be called
into question for concealing the same) under pain of irregularity."

Mark the exception—and mark the rule. What is there in either
to punish the disclosure'of a confession, which is not a " crime " or
an " offence " in law, but only a " sin " ? Talk of a clever lawyer
driving a coach-and-six through an Act of Parliament! "What
ecclesiastical advocate could not easily drive a railway-van through
such a Canon as that relied on by our sacerdotalist friend ? And
what machinery is there to enforce that old Canon ?

If there are in the laws of the Church by Law Established pro-
visions sufficient to regulate the habitual practice of confession,
why did a number of llomanising Anglican divines, the other day,
memorialise the Archbishop of Canterbury to make such pro-
visions—and in vain ?

Let sacerdotalists ask any original sacerdos, of the order they ape,
what he thinks of the Canon of 1603, concerning confession, and
enjoining secresy—with exceptions. What kind of a seal is such a
" seal of confession " ? So fragile, as to be very much less like a
seal than another thing with which Ritualists are wont to play at
Romanism—a wafer !

THE GILL WHO BEES.

We know the sylph on " Spillors; " now from rinks the fancy flees,
To the bas bleu of the period—the learned girl who " Bees."

She has Werster at her finger-ends, o'er Walker walks with ease ;
Can crack all the nuts in Nlttall, this portentous girl who Bees.

She can spell "metempsychosis," knows how many Ps and c's
Should be put in "peccadillo "—this alarming girl who Bees.

" Phthisis" has for her no terrors ; in " sciatica " she sees
Nothing to cause her trouble— she has had them both at Bees.

Never "harassed" or "embarrassed," she can spell you both of
these;

She can " braze " out Mr. Lowe, can this habituee of Bees.

Even Cotton, ex-Lord Mayor, admits he can't afford to sneeze
At the fight where he encounters this triumphant Queen of Bees.

Blithely ever is she buzzing. Night by night, snow, blow, or freeze,
Gaily humming " I am coming," as she flits among the Bees.

Once she quailed at Mr. D'Obsey ; now she puts the " e " in pease.
She's as good as Mr. Cassowan, that veteran of Bees.

She browbeats interrogators—" Just explain it, if you please."

" Would you kindly re-pronounce it ? " says this champion of Bees.

She's not lost, though she hesitates. She minds her g's and »'s,
" Slow and sure "'s the golden rule that guides the heroine of Bees.

Other girls do High-Art needlework, sing Bach or nigger glees
But she her glamour casts by spells—the Queen of busy Bees. -'

Our banks are furnished with them. There is .really quite a
squeeze

Of seraphic^Curates hiving whole swarms of Ladies' Bees.

Male orthographers are cyphers : they please not, nor displease—
'Tis still the belle who bears away the bell at all the Bees.

May she win a prize from Hymen. Soon her fair face may we see
In a hive with blithe brood humming—Spelling changed for Baby
Bee.

CORN IN EGYPT.

{A Dramatic Fancy of the, probably not remote, Future.)

Scene—A Magnificent Saloon, splendidly furnished. Table spread
irith a costly banquet. Eastern Potentate disco vered in the act
of entertaining Illustrious English Traveller. Confidential
Butler and other Servants, all in gorgeous attire, in attendance.

Eastern_ Potentate. Your Loyal Highness will see that we are
quite civilised. I speak English, and know how to order a dinner.
A propos, I trust the menu has given satisfaction ?

Illustrious English Traveller. Nothing could have been better,
my dear Khedive. Oysters, soup, fish, entrees, game, everything
excellent. You must have a cordon bleu in your kitchen.

Eastern Potentate {smiling). Well, I do not mind admitting that
I do pay a good round sum to my chef. It surprised poor Cave,
and the man is worth the money. Even Outrey said he was quite
up to the Parisian mark. I am rather proud of my cellar. What
do you think of that Chateau d'Yquem ?

illustrious English Traveller. Excellent—simply excellent; and
your dry champagne would do honour to Marlborough House.
Now for coffee and chasse, and then the mild cigar (ivith a sigh of
anticipation).

Eastern Potentate {to Confidential Butler). You hear, Ben
Solomon. Coffee, chasse, and cigars!

[Confidential Butler bows, and gives the necessary directions to
the other Servants. Exeunt the other Servants.
Illustrious English Traveller {regarding Confidential Butler
irith some curiosity). Does that man come from England, your
Highness ?

Eastern Potentate {confused). Well, not exactly—at least, if he
comes from England—he is of Eastern extraction.

Confidential Butler {with confidential ivhispcr). Fact is, your Pile
'Ighness, I'm from Cursitor Street.

Illustrious English Traveller {surprised). Hum! And now as I
should be glad of a confidential chat, with your Highness, will
you kindly desire this person to retire ?

Confidential Butler {smiling and aside). Can't be done, your 'Ighness.
Our Governor's acting for the British Bond 'olders. He didn't like
putt in' his 'Ighness the Kideevy in the 'ole, as he 'ad to receive
your Kile Tghness. But it'd be as much as my plashe is worth,
if I left his 'Ighness alone with the plate—it would, indeed, your
'Ighness.

Illustrious English Traveller {to Eastern Potentate). Why, who
is this fellow ?

Eastern Potentate. I regret to say that he is—{hesitates)— what
you call--Eh ? _

Illustrious English Traveller {encouragingly). Yes ?

Confidential Butler. Fact is, his 'Ighness ain't up to legal English,
your 'Ighness. But, between you and me and the post, 1 'm the
Man in Possession. \_Sensation.

{Scene closes in.)

Going- too Far.

Did M. Joiin Lemoinne, in his last Article in the Debuts on the
Loyal Titles Bill, really speak of the Queen as "the Sovereign of a
great country, which desired nothing better than to respect her,
almost to embalm her" ? If he did, Mr. Punch must set him right
on one point. This is a great country, and it desires nothing better
than to respect its Sovereign ; but it certainly has not the slightest
wish to embalm her—that being a process which M. Lemoinne must
know requires life to be terminated before it can be performed, and
the termination of Her Majesty's life is the last thing this country
would desire.

An " Alias " Improved.

Thy Sovereign dub an Empress, Ben ? What for ?
A countercheck to Russia's Emperor ?
Rather, my Benjamin, wouldst make the Queen a
Match for'the Czar, entitle her " Czarina."