Chapter 3

It is impossible to reflect upon the enlarged humanity of Sir ROBERT--for though, indeed, he is no other than the old German quack revived, we will not refuse to him his new name--toward the sufferers of Paisley, without feeling that the fine spirit of finesse which made the reputation of the student of the Black Forest has in no way suffered from its long sleep; but, on the contrary, has risen very much refreshed for new practice. The Doctor never compassed so fine a sleight as Sir ROBERT when lately, playing the philanthropist, he struck his breeches' pocket with a spasm of benevolence, and pulled therefrom--fifty pounds! Only a few weeks before, Sir ROBERT had sworn by all his list of former cures, that he would clothe the naked and feed the hungry, if he were duly authorised and duly paid for such Christian-like solicitude. He is called in; he then prorogues Parliament to the tune of "Go to the devil and shake yourself," and sits down in the easy chair of salary, and tries to think! Disturbed in his contemplations by the groans and screams of the famishing, he addresses the starving multitude from the windows of Downing-street, telling them he can do nothing for them in a large way, but--the fee he has received to cure them can afford as much--graciously throwing them fifty pounds from his private compassion! As a statesman he is powerless; but he has no objection to subscribe to the Mendicity Society.

It is an old hacknied abuse of NERO, that when Rome was in flame he accompanied the crackling of doors and rafters with his very best fiddle. We grant this showed a want of fine sympathy on the part of NERO; there was, nevertheless, a boldness, an exhibition of nerve, in such instrumentation. Any way, it leaves us with a higher respect for NERO than if he had been found playing on the burning Pantheon with a penny squirt. His mockery of the Romans, bad as it was, was not the mockery of compassion.

"I will make bread cheap for you," says Sir ROBERT PEEL to the Paisley sufferers; "I will not enable you to buy the quartern loaf at a reduced rate by your own industry, but I will treat you to a penny roll, at its present size, from my own purse." Whereupon the Tories clap their hands and cry, "What magnanimity!"

What should we say if, on another Pie-lane conflagration of London, the Minister were to issue an order commanding all the fire-offices to make no attempt to extinguish the flames, and were then to exclaim to the sufferers, "My friends, I deeply sympathize with you; but the Phoenix shall not budge, the Hand-in-Hand mustn't move a finger, the Eagle must stay where it is; nevertheless, there is a little private fire-engine of my own at Tamworth; you are heartily welcome to the use of it, and pray heaven it may put this terrible fire out, and once more make you snug and comfortable."

Quackery is of more ancient birth than many very honest people suspect; nay, more than, were the register of its nativity laid before their eyes, they would be willing to admit. We have no space for its voluminous history; but it is our belief, since quackery first plied its profitable trade with human incredulity, it never perpetrated so successful a trick as that exhibited by Sir ROBERT PEEL in his motion of want of confidence. The first scene of the farce is only begun. We have seen how Sir ROBERT has snatched the cards out of the hands of the Whigs, and shall find how he will play the self-same trumps assorted by his opponents. A change is already coming over the Conservatives; they are meek and mild, and, with their pocket handkerchiefs at their eyes, lisp about the distresses of the people. "When the geese gaggle," says a rustic saw, "expect a change of weather." Lord LONDONDERRY has already begun to talk of an alteration of the Corn-laws.

"Who knows what a minister may be compelled to do?" says Lord LONDONDERRY. These are new words for the old harridan Toryism. She was wont, like _Falstaff_, to blow out her cheeks and defy compulsion. But the truth is, Toryism has a new host to contend with. Her old reign was supported by fictitious credit--by seeming prosperity--and, more than all, by the ignorance of the people. Well, the bills drawn by Toryism (at a long date we grant) have now to be paid--paper is to be turned into Bank gold. Arithmetic is a great teacher, and, with the taxman's ink horn at his button-hole, gives at every door lessons that sink into the heart of the scholar. Public opinion, which, in the good old days "when George the Third was king," was little more than an abstraction--a thing talked of, not acknowledged--is now a tangible presence. The said public opinion is now formed of hundreds of thousands whose existence, save in the books of the Exchequer, was scarcely admitted by any reigning minister. Sir ROBERT PEEL has now to give in his reckoning to the hard-heads of Manchester, of Birmingham, of Leeds--he must pass his books with them, and tens of thousands of their scholars scattered throughout the kingdom; or, three months after the next meeting of Parliament, he is nought.

At this moment, it is said, Sir ROBERT is studying what taxes he can best lay upon the people. We confess to the difficulty of the case. At this moment there is scarcely a feather so light, the addition of which will not crack the camel's back. No; Sir ROBERT will come to the Whig measures of relief, having so disguised them as, like _Plagiary's_ metaphors, to make them pass for his own. The object of himself and party is, however, attained. He has juggled himself into place. With the genius of his former existence, as TEUFELSKOPF, the Premier has shuffled himself into Downing-street; and there he will leave nothing untried that he may remain. "If Cato gets drunk, then is drunkenness no shame"--"If Sir ROBERT PEEL alter the Corn-laws, then is it proper that the Corn-laws should be changed." This will be the cry of the Conservatives; and we shall see men, who before would have vowed themselves to slow starvation before they would admit an ear of wheat from Poland or Egypt, vote for a sliding-scale or no scale at all, as their places and the strength of their party may be best assured.

Doctor VON TEUFELSKOPF for years of his life was wont to eat fire and swallow a sword. We shall see how once more Sir ROBERT PEEL will eat his own principles--swallow his own words. When men call this apostacy, the Doctor will blandly smile, and denominate it a sacrifice to public opinion. We have no doubt that, as long as he can, the Premier will put off the remedy; he will try this and that; but at length public opinion will compel him to cast aside his own nostrums and use RUSSELL'S--_bread pills_!

Q.

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EPIGRAMS ON A LOUD AND SILLY TALKER.

If it be true man's tongue is like a steed, Which bears his mind,--why then, none wonder need, That Timlin's tongue can run at such a rate, Because it only carries--feather weight.

* * * * *

When Timlin speaks, his voice so shrill and loud Fills with amazement all the list'ning crowd; But soon the wonder ceases, when 'tis found That empty vessels make the greatest sound.

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PUNCH'S PENCILLINGS.--No. XVII.

* * * * *

THE PHYSIOLOGY OF THE LONDON MEDICAL STUDENT.

6.--OF THE GRINDER AND HIS CLASS.

* * * * *

THE TWO NEW EQUITY JUDGES.

"Between the two new Equity Courts, the suitors in Chancery will be much better off than formerly"--said Fitzroy Kelly, lately, to an intimate. "Undoubtedly," replied the friend, "they may now choose between the frying-pan and the fire."

* * * * *

MR. PUNCH,

ARTIST IN PHILOSOPHY AND FIREWORKS[1],

[1] Baylis.

BEGS TO INFORM THE

HOBBEDEHOYITY AND INFANTRY OF THE METROPOLIS

AND THE WORLD IN GENERAL,

That, for the proper commemoration of the anniversary of the 5th of November, he _had_ engaged the services of the following

EMINENT THAMESIAN INCENDIARIES.

SIR PETER LAURIE, to furnish materials for _squibs_.

MR. ROEBUCK, for _flower-pots_, containing the beautiful figure of a _genealogical tree_.

COLONEL SIBTHORP, for sky-rockets being constructed after his _own plan_; warranted to flare up at starting, and to come down--_a stick_.

DANIEL O'CONNELL, Esq., for the importation of Roman candles,

MR. WAKLEY, SIR JAMES GRAHAM, LORD STANLEY, and SIR FRANCIS BURDETT, for Catherine-wheels, which are guaranteed to _turn round_ with great celerity, and to exhibit _curious designs_.

LORD MINTO, for _Chinese fire_, prepared from the recipes of his gallant relative, the Honourable Captain Elliot, which have been procured at an immense outlay.--(See next year's "Budget.")

The MARQUIS OF WATERFORD, the celebrated Purveyor to the Police Force in general, for the supply of _crackers_.

MR. CHARLES PEARSON, for _port_-fires.

SIR ROBERT PEEL, assisted by his CABINET, for a _golden rain_.

*** A large supply of these articles always on hand. Apply at Mr. P.'s Office every Saturday.

* * * * *

AN EXTRACT FROM THE SPECTATOR.

Carter, the lion-tamer, previous to his late exhibition, when the tiger broke loose, had given an order to an old acquaintance to come and witness his performance; by great good luck, he and the rest of the affrighted spectators effected their escape; but he was heard vehemently declaring he had been deceived in the most beastly manner, as he would not have come but that he supposed he was

* * * * *

SHIP NEWS.

Off Battersea Mills, in the reeds, _La Gitana_ (wherry Z.9), Execution Dock, with loss of sculls; deserted. On nearing her, discovered the Master with his wooden leg in the mud, to which he had made fast the head-line, with his left leg over his right shoulder, high and dry.

A boat, supposed to belong to the Union Aquatic Sons of Shop Walkers, was washed ashore on Hungerford Muds, with an old ribbon-box, apparently used for a sea-chest, containing wearing apparel, 1s. 8d. in fourpenny pieces, and sundry small pieces of paper, with "Dry," sign of the "Three Balls," printed thereon, and endorsed, "Shawl, 3s. 6d., 30 remnants of ribbon 7s. 6d., waistcoat satin, 1 yard 3s. 6d.," &c. &c. The crew supposed to have abandoned her off the "Swan," where they were seen in a state of beer.

* * * * *

CAUSE AND EFFECT.

A great _fall_ of chalk occurred at Mertsham on the Brighton Railway on last Thursday morning; a corresponding _fall_ in milk took place in London on the following day.

* * * * *

SHOULD THIS MEET THE EYE--

of Sir ROBERT PEEL, LORD STANLEY, or any of Her Majesty's Ministers, in want of an active cad, or light porter; the advertiser, a young man at present out of place, would be anxious to make himself generally useful, and is not particular in what capacity. Respectability not so great an object as a good salary. Application to be made to T. WAKLEY, at the Rad's Arms, _Turn'em Green_.

* * * * *

HARD AND FAST.

That very slow coach, and would be "faster," the licensed to-carry-no-thing-inside "Bernard Cavannah," has been recently confined in a room, wherein he has lived upon the "cameleon's dish," eating the air--"jugged," we presume. Wakley declares he is an impostor; but as he has an interest in an inquest, and Bernard survives, this may be attributed to professional disappointment. Dr. Elliotson declares, from his own experience, any man can live upon nothing. The whole medical profession are getting to very high words; Anglice,--indulging in very low language. The fraternity of physicians, apothecaries, and surgeons, are growing so warm upon the living subject, that we may shortly expect to witness a beautiful tableau vivant of

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PUNCH'S THEATRE.

MISS ADELAIDE KEMBLE.

Let every amateur, professor, and enthusiastic raver concerning "native talent" go down on his knees, and, after the manner of the ancient heathen, return thanksgiving unto Apollo for having at last sent us a singer who knows her business! One who can sing as if she had a soul; who can act as if she were not acting, but existing amidst reality; who is, in short, a performer entirely new to the British stage; to whom we have not a parallel example to produce,--a heroine of the lyric drama.