DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16513#0008
iv PUNCH'S PREFACE.
the selfish; would as lieve peep into the fauces Averni, as behold the open jaws of the mere man of pocket, who,
when he buttons his coat about him, believes he incloses therein all that is really valuable in the whole
universe
Therefore, Punch produces his key to the proper enjoyment of this volume. It is simple; to be compre-
hended and acted upon by every reader. The book is a Christmas pleasure ; but, Reader, before you open it—
ere you set your teeth in a single paragraph, answer Punch truly : What have you done, this " merry Christmas,*
for the happiness of those about, below you ?
Nothing? Do you dare, with those sirloin cheeks and that port-wine nose, to answer—Nothing? Close
the book: for to you, Punch is and shall be a dead letter. You may, indeed, scan the type, and think you
understand it; you may laugh, and think the mirthfulness a pleasant reality. Alas ! you have read dead words ;
you could not know the true spirit enshrined in them; and for your laughter, there is more human vitality in
the echoes of a sepulchre.
Ha ! Come hither, thou full-hearted Hospitality ! With the fine instinct of a gallant nature,
thou hast already apprehended the key to Punch's Christmas Volume; dost know its inmost spirit, and wilt
laugh peals of laughter musical as marriage-bells.
Thy Christmas board shall smoke with plenty. Household cherubim shall nestle midst thy misletoe.
And wherefore ? Thou iiast given—given. Thou mayest carve thy sirloin and turkey with a smiling face, for
thou hast made beef a visitor at the tables of the poor : thou mayest eat a pound of pudding, and no crumb of
it shall lie heavily upon thy conscience or thy stomach. Thou mayest quaff thy glass to a happy New Year, nor
in thy forgetfulness of others blush to hope it; thou mayest, for thou art yet young enough, play merrily at
blindmanVbuff, for thou art a true almoner to the hoodwinked goddess. Thy poorer neighbours, fed and
solaced by thee, thou mayest eat snap-dragon with thy little ones; and whilst the lurid flames shall rise
about thee, thou needst not think of Dives in the fire ; for thou—and may Peace and Plenty garland still thy
door-posts thou hast comforted many a Lazarus !
And, moreover, thou mayest read Punch, who will—per printer—kiss thy hand ; and, in the fullness of
a sincere soul, wish thee and thine
A Happy, Happy Christmas—and a Merry, Merry New Year!
the selfish; would as lieve peep into the fauces Averni, as behold the open jaws of the mere man of pocket, who,
when he buttons his coat about him, believes he incloses therein all that is really valuable in the whole
universe
Therefore, Punch produces his key to the proper enjoyment of this volume. It is simple; to be compre-
hended and acted upon by every reader. The book is a Christmas pleasure ; but, Reader, before you open it—
ere you set your teeth in a single paragraph, answer Punch truly : What have you done, this " merry Christmas,*
for the happiness of those about, below you ?
Nothing? Do you dare, with those sirloin cheeks and that port-wine nose, to answer—Nothing? Close
the book: for to you, Punch is and shall be a dead letter. You may, indeed, scan the type, and think you
understand it; you may laugh, and think the mirthfulness a pleasant reality. Alas ! you have read dead words ;
you could not know the true spirit enshrined in them; and for your laughter, there is more human vitality in
the echoes of a sepulchre.
Ha ! Come hither, thou full-hearted Hospitality ! With the fine instinct of a gallant nature,
thou hast already apprehended the key to Punch's Christmas Volume; dost know its inmost spirit, and wilt
laugh peals of laughter musical as marriage-bells.
Thy Christmas board shall smoke with plenty. Household cherubim shall nestle midst thy misletoe.
And wherefore ? Thou iiast given—given. Thou mayest carve thy sirloin and turkey with a smiling face, for
thou hast made beef a visitor at the tables of the poor : thou mayest eat a pound of pudding, and no crumb of
it shall lie heavily upon thy conscience or thy stomach. Thou mayest quaff thy glass to a happy New Year, nor
in thy forgetfulness of others blush to hope it; thou mayest, for thou art yet young enough, play merrily at
blindmanVbuff, for thou art a true almoner to the hoodwinked goddess. Thy poorer neighbours, fed and
solaced by thee, thou mayest eat snap-dragon with thy little ones; and whilst the lurid flames shall rise
about thee, thou needst not think of Dives in the fire ; for thou—and may Peace and Plenty garland still thy
door-posts thou hast comforted many a Lazarus !
And, moreover, thou mayest read Punch, who will—per printer—kiss thy hand ; and, in the fullness of
a sincere soul, wish thee and thine
A Happy, Happy Christmas—and a Merry, Merry New Year!