Punch: Punch (83.1882)

August 26, 1882.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

85

PUTTING IT PLEASANTLY!

Officer {Orderly-room, Head-quarters). “And where have you been since

YOU LEFT YOUR REGIMENT?”

Private {just re-joined). “’Tached to the Prison Department, Sir!”

A SONG OF SOBRIETY.

“ Temperance in South London.—The Southwark Total
Abstinence Union on Sunday commenced ‘ a week of 100 meet-
ings ’ by four large demonstrations in different parts of the
borough. At Bermondsey Square, St. George’s Circus, Millpond
Bridge, and the East London Railway Station, large. numbers
assembled, with banners and regalia from the several temperance
organisations in the districts.”—Horning Paper.

At the next merry meeting of the Southwark Total
Abstainers, their proceedings will, perhaps, be addition-
ally enlivened if some capable Vocalist can be procured
to sing them a song which may be entitled—

THE MODERATE DRINKER.

He that always gets drunk every night of his life,
Gloeshabed the worse, most nights, for liquor.

When his duty ’sh to love and cherish his wife,

He’s accussomed to thrash her and kick her.

Did you ever hear talk of Christophero Sly ?

A tippler he was—and a tinker.

I don’t hold with sish characters, I don’t, not I;

But I ’ll own I’m a Moderate Drinker.

When a Total Abstainer refuses his glass,

Overcomin’ a strong inclination,

I won’t shay that I look on that man as an ass,

’Cause he knows that he can’t shtand temptation.

But no weakness like that is a trouble to me ;

So I’m neither a sot nor a slinker ;

And I won’t take the pledge, but I ’ll keep my will free
To indulge as a Moderate Drinker.

Some I know in a senseless incapable shtate,

That get sometimes wheeled home in a barrow,

I walk shtraight up-stairs always—no matter how late— j
If I don’t always rise with the sparrow.

Now and then I’ve a twinge in one tender great toe ;

An’ I’m told my nose keeps growing pinker ;

But how many Teetotallers likewise look so,

Just the same as a Moderate Drinker.

’Tisn’t drink of a morning that makes my head ache,

Dor till noon I take nothing that’s heady,

Only when my hand happens a little to shake.

And a drop sherves the shinnewsh to shteady.

’Tis excess that makes topers talk thick and look queer.
Now I shpeak like a rational thinker,

As you all must allow, ’cause you see and you hear
That I’m only a Moderate Drinker.

CONTRIBUTIONS TOWARDS A NEW ANGLO-
TURKISH DICTIONARY OF DIPLOMACY.

With Annotations and Illustrations.

Br Kibosh Pasha.

Diplomacy. The art of lying with dignity, evading with polite-
ness, delaying with decorum, and financing with finesse. {See Arts.
Lie, Evasion, Delay. Bribe.)

Lie. The “ Rahat Lakhoum ” of Diplomacy, or Truth in the form
of a Confection {Anglice, “ Px,eal Jam”). Some (Oriental) lexico-
graphers invert this, and define Truth as a “Confection of Lies,”
Falsehood “ sweetened to taste,” jys the Cookery-Books of the West
have it. It is a distinction without a difference. There is no differ-
ence—in the diplomatic sense. What is called “Truth” is the
(apparent) form in which a Lie is most palatable to the punctilious
Western taste. In that form, therefore, it is the duty of the
obliging Oriental to present it. The obliging Oriental invariably
does his duty in this respect.

Evasion. The art of not kicking against the pricks. Points—
whether of weapons or arguments—are generally prickly. Both
should be avoided as long as possible.

Delay. Time, says the wise man, waits for no one. It is the
business of the wise man, therefore, to wait for Time. Time gene-
rally brings everything to those who wait for him. Delay is merely
waiting for Time. The Western mind is hasty. It objects to
waiting for Time, or, what is the same thing, for the Turk. Except
that the Turk brings nothing to those who wait for him.

Procrastination. The more active form of delay. The West
says that “Procrastination is the thief of Time.” It is rather its
murderer. The more time you kill—in diplomacy—the better.

Negotiation. The art of postponing the acceptance of an unplea-
sant proposition by the counter-suggestion of an impracticable one.

Consideration. Looking at nothing with your eyes shut. An

excellent occupation for the interval between receiving the un-
pleasant proposition and making the impracticable one. {See above.)

Intrigue. See Diplomacy.

Corruption. The finance of Diplomacy. The art of buying
(your enemies) in the cheapest market, and selling (your friends) in
the dearest. The latter branch of the art is the more pleasant and
profitable. Some experts even succeed in combining the two opera-
tions in one transaction. This is the perfection of the art.

Bribe. The circulating medium of diplomatic finance. The-
standard coinage of the political currency. The bribe (backsheesh)
is indeed the substantial and fundamental basis of all diplomatic
transactions, which consist, au fund, in giving or receiving bribes.
It is more blessed to receive than to give—a bribe. But there is one
thing more blessed still. It is to receive a bribe, and “ evade ”
[q. v.) the briber. This is selling the buyer. Sometimes—in-

artistically—called swindling. It is the finesse of diplomatic finance,
to which, in its perfection, the crude and clumsy Western mind
never attains. The true Turk—Allah be praised !-can buy without
paying the purchase-money, and sell without parting with the com-
modity sold. This is the real diplomacy.

Ultimatum. The Western notion of Kismet or the Inevitable.
To the Eastern understanding, a cid-de-sac with a back-door to it.
That point in negotiations which affords the finest opportunity for
lying, evading, delaying, considering, bribing, in short, for all the
processes of diplomacy. The Inevitable—in the Turkish sense—is
Diplomacy’s last ditch, driven to which, the Turk has yet one
resource, viz., to lie down in it gracefully, as though he liked it. He
always avails himself of this resource.

The new piece, Cloture, an adaptation from the French, by W. E.
Gladstone, will be read to the Company at T. R., St. Stephen’s,
Westminster, as soon as possible after the re-assembling of the
Company in October. The piece is described as possessing very little
literary merit, hut as offering fine opportunities for “ gagging.”