Punch (100.1891)

Jura 27, 1891.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. m

" \JELSON indeed way be regarded as the tutelary deity of the Naval Exhibition."

Mr. Punch, musing by moonlight hard by the model of the ever-memorable Victory, mentally quoted and approved.

Mr. Punch was musing of many things. Mainly of his own Jubilee, or rather the Jubilee of his immortal Journal, the One

Hundredth Half-Yearly Volume of which was in his hands.

" This Show," he reflected, " demonstrates what colossal changes—many of the best of them owing their origin to

j^et_liave taken place since, Fifty Years ago, I penned the Preface to my First Volume, in the Year of Grace 1841 ! "

The search-light from the top of the Eddystone Lighthouse almost dazzled the Sage's upturned eyes, but for all that

he could hardly be mistaken in his instant identification of a Shadowy Presence which shaped itself before him. Where

is there an Englishman who would not recognise that small but striking and spirit-suffused figure, that keen, unconquerable

glance, that ardent yet almost ascetic-looking face, that familiar star-decked uniform, that hanging coat-sleeve ?

Mr. Punch rose and doffed his hat in respectful salutation to the Illustrious Shade, murmuring as he did so—

" For gods they are, through high Jove's counsels good,
Haunting the earth, the guardians of mankind."

" Ah," said the Shade, smiling deprecating^, " 'twas so Mr. Southey, in ending the story of my life, spake of ' the
spirits of the great and the wise, which continue to live and to act after them.' But things have indeed changed, Mr.
Puncb, since that last went into action ! " And he pointed, as he spoke, to the black and yellow poop of the Victory.

" Not so far changed, that there is a single British heart which does not thrill more at the sight of the mimic scene in
yon dimly-lighted cockpit than at that of the huger Victoria of to-day, though it can hurl in one colossal shot as much iron
as a broadside and a half of the Victory of yours, my Admiral."

" Ah ! I wonder what Benbow would have thought of ' The Mimic Naval War on the Lake ' ? " pursued Mr. Punch's
interlocutor. " We did not play at pitched battles, or rehearse Trafalgar with toy-ships, in our belligerent but less scienti-
fically ingenious days."

" Not much play, my Horatio, about the encounter between the Almirante Lynch and the Blanco Encalada, the
other day," said Mr. Punch, smiling. " The fact is, Admiral, a naval engagement in our Titanically-armed times must bo so
complicated, so sensational and so sanguinary a drama, that a little mimic 1 rehearsal' is perhaps advisable.

" Doubtless, doubtless ! " murmured the Shade.

" Nevertheless," pursued Mr. Punch, cheerily, " I will wager that the model of the Victory and the Nelson Relics
will draw more British visitors to this Exhibition than all the Cyclopean wonders and Titanic marvels of the Armstrong
Gallery. Vulcan has not yet superseded Neptune in the worship of the English-speaking peoples."

The Hero's ardent eyes gleamed with gratification.

" Doleful dumps for duffers ! " cried Mr. Punch. " A stout heart is never long in the doldrums. You yourself once
lost hope for a little,—after the loss of your dexter fin at Teneriffe. • A left-handed Admiral,' you wrote, 1 will never again