Chapter 2

THE AUTHOR DEDICATES HIS WORK TO THE FAIRER HALF OF THE CREATION.

A FEW WORDS ABOUT YOUNG LADIES.

A young lady, I mean one who has but recently thrown aside her dolls, is a bashful blushing little puppet, who only acts, speaks, and moves as mama directs. She is a statue of flesh and blood, not yet animated by the Promethean fire--a chrysalis, which may one day become a beautiful butterfly, fluttering on silken wing amidst a crowd of adorers; but she is yet only a chrysalis, pale and cold, and wrapped up in a thousand conventional restrictions, like a mummy in its swathes.

The _very_ young lady is usually prodigiously careful of her little self: she regards men as her natural enemies. Poor innocent!--This absurdity is the fault of her education. They have made her believe that love is the most abominable, execrable, infernal thing in existence. They have taught her to lie and to dissimulate her most innocent emotions. But the time is not far distant when the natural impulses of her heart will break down the barriers that hypocrisy has placed around her. Woman was formed to love: she must obey the imperious law of her being, and will love the moment her inspirations for the _belle passion_ become stronger than her reason. I may add, also, that when a young lady discovers a tendency this way, it may be safely conjectured the object on which she will bestow her favour is not very distant.

THE AUTHOR'S DIVISION OF HIS SYSTEM.

It has been a long-established axiom that there is but one great principle of love; but then it assumes various phases, according to the thousands of circumstances under which it is exhibited, and which, to speak in the language of philosophy, it would be impossible to synthetise. Time, place, age, the very season of the year, the ruling passion, peace or war, education, the instincts of the heart, the health of the body and the mind (if it be possible for the latter to be in a sane state when we fall in love), the buoyancy of youth or the decrepitude of old age,--these, and numerous other causes which I cannot at present enumerate, serve to modify to infinity the form and character of the sentiment. Thus we do not love at eighteen as we do at forty, nor in the city as we do in the country, nor in spring as we do in autumn, nor in the camp as we do in the court; nor does the ignorant man love like a learned one; the merchant does not love like the lawyer; nor does the latter love like the doctor. It is upon these different phases in the character of love that I have founded my system. Next week I shall endeavour to describe some of the traits which distinguish "The Lover." Till then, fair readers,--I remain your devoted slave.

WITNESS MY

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GRANT'S MEDITATIONS AMONG THE COFFEE-CUPS.

We had long considered ourselves the funniest dogs in Christendee; and, in the plenitude of our vanity, imagined that we monopolised the attention and admiration of the present and the future. We expected to be deified, and thus become the founders of a new mythology. PUNCH must be immortal! But how shorn of his pristine splendour--how denuded of his fancied glories! for the _John Bull_ has discovered--

GRANT'S LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF LONDON LIFE.

Wretched as we must be at this reflection, we generously resort to--our scissors, and publish our own discomfiture.

In alluding to the author's description of the London dining-room, the _John Bull_ remarks:--

It will bring comfort to the savage bosoms of the late Ministry, for whose especial information we must make a few more extracts, concerning coffee-houses, or shops, as they are mostly termed.

COFFEE SHOPS.

The second class of coffee-houses, and those I have particularly in my eye, are altogether different from those I have just mentioned. The prices are remarkably moderate in most of these places; the charge is no more than three-halfpence for half a pint of coffee, or _threepence for a whole pint_. The price of half a pint of tea is twopence, _of a whole pint fourpence_. If you simply ask bread to your tea or coffee, two large slices, well buttered, are brought you, for which you are charged twopence. Or should you prefer having a penny roll, or any other sort of bread, you can have it at the same price as at the baker's.

In most coffee-houses, you may also have chops or steaks for dinner. If the party be a _rigid economist(!)_ he may, as regards some of these _establishments_, purchase his steak or chop himself, and it will be prepared gratuitously for him; but if that be too much trouble for him to take, and he prefers ordering it at once, he will get, in many houses, his chop with bread and potatoes with it for sixpence, and his steak for ninepence or tenpence.

These coffee-houses have many advantages over hotels, besides the great difference in the prices charged. In the first place, there is not so much _formality_ or _affected dignity_ about them, and they are far better provided with means of rational amusement; and the promptitude with which a customer is served is really surprising.

Are not these passages declarations of the individual? Winding himself up with twopenny-worth of cheese! Pleading for the additional penny for the waitress, whose personal charms and obliging disposition must be considered to extort the amount! And above all, unable to conceive any motive, except aversion to trouble, for disliking to carry "his chop" upon a skewer through the streets of London. How every line revels in the recollection of having dined, and speaks how seldom! while the _well-buttered_ bread infers the usual fare. Still it is not meanly written. There are a glorying and exultation in every word that redeem it, and show the author is more to be envied than compassionated; though a little further on we perceive the shifts to which his homeless state has reduced him.

MEDITATION IN LONDON.

You can order, if you please, a cup of coffee without anything to it; and, for so doing, you may sit if you wish for five or six hours in succession.

I have said that coffee-houses are excellent places for reading; I might have added, for _meditation_ also. For unlike public-houses, there are no noisy discussions and disputes in them. All is calm, tranquil, and comfortable. The beverage, too, which is drank as a beverage, as I before remarked in a previous chapter, _cheers, but not inebriates_.

The remarks are generally equally original, and the facts, no doubt in some degree truths, are all alike humorous; the more so when the aspect of the book and the names of the respectable publishers suggest the higher class of readers to whom it is addressed. Little anecdotes are interspersed, concerning Harriet, of Coventry-street, who didn't mind her stops; and James, behind the Mansion-house, who knew everybody's appetite, that enliven the descriptive portions of the work, which is in its very inappropriateness the more amusing, and cannot be read without reaping both information and instruction on topics which no other author would have had the temerity to discuss.

But these are only words. Let PUNCH, the rival of this Caledonian Asmodeus, do justice to the man whose "character is stamped on every page (of his own), who yet is above pity; poor, yet full of enjoyment; humble, yet glorious; ignorant, yet confident."

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THE MONEY MARKET.

Tin is 14 per cwt. in London, and this, allowing a fraction for wear and tear, gives an exchange of 94 36-27ths in favour of Hamburgh.

The money market is much easier this week, and bills (play-bills) were to be had in large quantities. A large capitalist who holds turnpike tickets to a large amount, caused much confusion by letting some pass from his hands, when they flew about with alarming rapidity. Several persons seemed desirous of taking them up, but a rush of bulls (from Smithfield) rendered this quite impossible.

Whitechapel scrip was done at 000 _premium_; but in the course of the day 00000 discount was freely offered.

This was settling day, when many parties paid the scores they had been running at the cook-shop opposite. There was only one defaulter, and as it was not anticipated he would come up to the mark; for he had been chalking up rather largely of late: nothing was said about it.

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A DICTIONARY FOR THE LADIES.

PUNCH,

Solicitous to maintain and enhance that reputation for gallantry towards his fair readers which it has ever been his pride to have merited, has much pleasure, not unmixed with self-congratulation, in thus announcing to the loveliest portion of the creation the immediate appearance of

A DICTIONARY ENTIRELY AND EXCLUSIVELY FOR THEIR USE;

in which the signification of every word will he given in a strictly feminine sense, and the orthography, as a point of which ladies like to be properly independent, will be studiously suppressed. The whole to be compiled and edited by

MADAME PUNCH.

To which will be appended a little Manual addressed confidentially by PUNCH himself to the Ladies, and entitled

TEN MINUTES' ADVICE ON THE CARE AND USE OF A HUSBAND;

or "what to ask, and how to insist upon it, so that the obstreperous bridegroom may become a meek and humble husband."

SPECIMEN OF THE WORK.

_Husband_.--A person who writes cheques, and dresses as his wife directs.

_Duck_, _in ornithology_.--A trussed bridegroom, with his giblets under his arm.

_Brute_.--A domestic endearment for a husband.

_Marriage_.--The only habit to which women are constant.

_Lover_.--Any young man but a brother-in-law.

_Clergyman_.--One alternative of a lover.

_Brother_.--The other alternative.

_Honeymoon_.--A wife's opportunity.

_Horrid_; _Hideous_.--Terms of admiration elicited by the sight of a lovely face anywhere but in the looking-glass.

_Nice_; _Dear_.--Expressions of delight at anything, from a baby to a barrel-organ.

_Appetite_.--A monstrous abortion, which is stifled in the kitchen, that it may not exist during dinner.

_Wrinkle_.--The first thing one lady sees in another's face.

_Time_.--What any lady remarks in a watch, but what none detect in the gross.

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SOUP, A LA JULIEN.

A correspondent of the _Sunday Times_ proposes to raise ten thousand for the benefit of the labouring classes, in the following manner:--

"Upon a _prima facie_ view, my suggestion may appear impracticable, but I am sure the above amount could be raised for the benefit of the labouring classes by one effort of royalty--an effort that would make our valued Queen invaluable, and, at the same time, afford the Ministry an opportunity of making themselves popular in the cause of their country's good. Westminster Hall is acknowledged to be the largest room in the empire, and, with very little expense, might be fitted up with a temporary throne, &c., for promenade concerts, for one, two, or three, days. All the vocal and instrumental talent of the day would be obtained gratis, and Her Most Gracious Majesty's presence, for only two hours on each day, with the admission tickets at one guinea, would produce more money than I have mentioned." Would the above amiable philanthropist favour us with his likeness? We imagine it would be a splendid

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POLITICAL INTELLIGENCE.

SIR ROBERT PEEL was observed to put a penny into the hands of the man at the crossing in Downing-street. It is anticipated, from this trifling circumstance, that _sweeping_ measures will be introduced on the assembling of Parliament.

A deputation from the marrow-bones and cleavers waited on Lord Stanley at the Treasury. His lordship listened attentively for some minutes, and then abruptly left the apartment in which he had been sitting.

We understand that Colonel Sibthorp intends proposing an economical plan of church extension, that is to cost nothing to the public; for it suggests that churches should be built of Indian rubber, by which their extension would become a matter of the greatest facility.

It is rumoured that the deficiency in the revenue is to be made up by a tax on the incomes of literary men; and a per-centage on the profits of _Martinuzzi_ will first be levied by way of experiment. Should it succeed, a duty will be laid on the produce of _The Cloak and the Bonnet._

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THE LATE PROMOTIONS.

The whole of the police force take one step forward, on account of the late very liberal brevet.

Sergeant Snooks, of the Royal Heavy Highlows, to be raised to the Light Wellingtons.

Policemen K 482,611, to be restored to the staff by having his staff restored to him, which had been taken from him for misconduct.

Corporal Smuggins, 16th Foot, to be Sergeant by purchase, _vice_ Buggins, arrested for debt.

All the _post_ captains, who were formerly Twopennies, will take the rank of Generals.

In the Thames Navy, 2d mate Simpkins, of the _Bachelor_, to be 1st mate, _vice_ Phunker, fallen overboard and resigned.

All the men who are above the age of 100, and are in the actual discharge of duty as policemen, are to be immediately superannuated on half-pay--a liberal arrangement, prompted, it is believed, by the birth of the Prince of Wales.

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PUNCH'S THEATRE.

NORMA, OSSIAN, AND PAUL BEDFORD.

A vestal virgin with a husband and two children, a Roman Lothario, with an Irish friend, a Druidical temple, a gong, and an _auto-da-fé_, mix up charmingly with Bellini's quadrille-like music to form a pathetic opera; and sympathetic _dilettanti_ weep over the woes of "Norma," because they are so exquisitely portrayed by Miss Kemble, in spite of the subject and the music. Such, indeed, is the power of this lady's genius--which is shed like a halo over the whole opera--that nobody laughs at the broad Irish in which _Flavius_ delivers himself and his recitative; few are risibly affected by the apathetic, and often out-of-tune, roarings of _Pollio_:--than which stronger testimony could not be cited of the triumph of Miss Kemble; for solely by her influence do those who go to Covent-Garden to grin, return delighted.

But Apollo himself could not charm away the rich fun that pervades the English adaptation; nor the modest humour of its preface. It has been, hitherto, one characteristic of the lyric drama to consist of verse; rhyme has been thought not wholly dispensable. Those, however, who are "familiar with the writings of Ossian," (and the works of the Covent-Garden adapter), will, according to the preface, at once see the fallacy of this. Rhyme is mere "jingle,"--rhythm, rhodomontade,--metre, monstrous,--versification, villanous,--in short, Ossian did not write poetry, neither does this learned prefacier--so it's all nonsense!

To burlesque such a work as "Norma," then, is to paint the lily, to gild refined gold, to caricature Lord Morpeth, or to attempt to improve PUNCH. Yet the opportunity was too tempting to be wholly overlooked, and a hint having been dropped in one of our "Pencillings," an Adelphi scribe has acted upon it. An enlarged edition of the work may, therefore, now be had at half-price. A heroine of six foot two or three in her sandals, with a bass voice, covers the stage with tremendous strides, and warbles out "her wood-notes" (being a Druidess she worships the _oak_) "wild," with a volume of voice which silences the trombone, and makes the ophecleide sound asthmatic. In short, the great feature is Mr. Paul Bedford. The children he brings forward are worthy of their parentage. _Pollio_ is made a most killing Roman _roué_ by Mrs. Grattan; but _Norma's_ attendant does not speak Irish half so richly as the Covent-Garden _Flavius_.

But, above all, commend we Mr. Wright's _Adelgeisa_. It is a masterpiece; all the airs and graces of the _prima donna_ he imitates with a true spirit of burlesque. As to his singing, it astonished everybody, and so did the introduction of "All round my Hat,"--a most unnecessary interpolation, for the original music is quite as droll.

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