BUT, OWING TO SOME MISTAKE, AFTER SEVERAL MISSES, ALL THE BARRELS GO OFF AT ONCE, AND SHE (THE MITRAILLEUSE) KICKS OUT RIGHT AND LEFT AND ALL ROUND (General Contusions !) AND FLIES INTO PIECES! THE DOGS WERE NEVER SEEN AFTERWARDS! POETA NASCITUR. SINCE the beginning of the war, (and that is less than a month -from Saarbruck to Sedan) Mr. Punch has received war-poems enough to make a new Iliad. He has sternly refused to publish any of these. But the genuine inspiration and exquisite diction of the following masterpiece, (its acrostic character introducing a playful element) seem to warrant him in publishing it, the rather that it is much better than the vast majority of the efforts of his volunteer Correspondents : THE WAR. (An Acrostic.) FROM beginning Prussia's held the sway, A non a serious issue may appear, N one can but hope, that some end is near, Dear ones at home, have shed many a Tear! Pride yourselves Britons, that our "Land of the free," Rejoices in Peace, and in Neutrality, Unless she's obliged by an Usurpation, S he will not altercate with any Nation, S hout then with joy that Peace, Plenty, prevails, In lieu of Bloodshed with its horrid details, A gain then rejoice, that we keep from those "Gales." REMEMBER, THESE ARE NOT CONTRABAND OF WAR.-Alms for the Wounded. And remember No. 2, Saint Martin's Place, London. [An appropriate locality, by the bye, for it was St. Martin who tore his cloak in halves and gave half to a sick man.] HOHENZOLLERNS AND HARD NAMES. vermin," and says that "France must sweep away the HOHENZOL M. EDMOND ABOUT, in the Soir, calls the Germans "Teutonic LERNS and their feudal followers" by next New Year's Day. This talk is homogeneous with the caricature which represented the KING OF PRUSSIA's troops as mice marching upon a cheese; but if the Germans are mice, what are the people who sing "Rataplan" but other mice? We will not say "rats," for more reasons than one; an intention to pun might be imputed to us by some of our correspondents who send us puns of their own. How would M. ABOUT represent HOHENZOLLERNS if he were to draw them in the shape of vermin? Perhaps he would delineate the typical HOHENZOLLERN as a cockroach, or some extraordinary beetle. The "Teutonic vermin," however, would be more aptly depicted as hornets brought by M. ABOUT'S Countrymen themselves about their own ears. CERTAINLY NOT. NEVER before has Mr. Punch had to complain of his delightful and instructive Contemporary, Notes and Queries. But look here :"What is wanted is a dictionary which shall trace back every English word or group of words to the Earliest Radical in existence." This is too bad. The Earliest Radical! DR. JOHNSON (not in his dictionary) has explained the Earliest Radicalism, which he called Whiggery. But we do not want our whole language traced to that source. Enough that a Frenchman has called it "diabolical." "Rue with a Difference." CAN it be true, as telegraphed, that the Avenue de l'Empereur is henceforth to be called the Rue Victor Noir? A bad omen! Suppose the "Black Victor"-the Prussian Eagle-should really fly into Paris that way! Printed by Joseph Smith, of No. 24, Holford Square, in the Parish of St. James, Clerkenwell, in the County of Middlesex, at the Printing Offices of Messrs. Bradbury, Evans, & Co., Lombard Street, in the Precinct of Whitefriars, in the City of London, and Published him at No. 85, Fleet Street, in the Parish of St. Bride, City of London.-SATURDAY, September 17, 1870. "WHO KNOW HOW TO DIE." MR. PUNCH, who means to read his friend MR. CARLYLE's Thirty Volumes every year (especially now that the Thirty will present them selves in a readable type, and with the author's latest annotations), came last night upon the famous passage about the Hymn composed in 1792, for the Six Hundred of Marseilles "who knew how to die." He-Mr. Punch-is tired of seeing it said that "History repeats itself," though the fact be so. But as France is invaded, and by other than a Brunswick who was shaking himself (s'ébranle) at Coblentz, and who was subsequently saved the trouble of performing that act for himself, and as the Hymn has been a good deal heard of lately, Mr. Punch transcribes the celebrated Carlylean lines : "The Thought which works noiseless in this black browed mass, an inspired Tyrtæan Colonel, ROUGET DE LILLE, whom the earth still held in 1836, has translated into grim melody and rhythm: into his Hymn, or March of the Marseillese, luckiest musical composition ever promulgated. The sound of which will make the blood tingle in men's veins, and whole Armies and Assemblages will sing it, with eyes weeping and burning, with hearts defiant of Death, Despot, and Devil." The Hymn has again resounded all over France-—and has even been profaned by theatrical singers who, with rouged faces and melodramatic gestures, shout or squall it at boxes, pit, and gallery. And many others have sung it very loudly who will probably sing very small when the hour of fighting comes. But the fierce Hymn, like JULIUS CESAR, is "mighty yet. The only thing is that circumstances have changed, and that one of the three enemies whom hearts in '92 burned to defy, exists not for France. And it is due to Frenchmen to say that they have never been much-perhaps never sufficiently afraid of the other two. But it is a noteworthy thing that eighty years-a revolution of SATURN-have brought round the old time again, and that the history of the present hour in France may be read in the splendid page of THOMAS CARLYLE. HOW KING WILLIAM TAKES IT. VICTOR HUGO is in Paris!!!! He has come back arm-in-arm with the Revolution!!!!! Le Roi s'amuse. VOL. LIX. GOOD BYE TO GLORY. AIR-" Marlbrook." IT is the old, old story! They therefore chose their Chief. They abuse him like a thief; In whom they had vain belief. They are a noble nation, May they at last be schooled; Return to peaceful labours; Untaught by their example Should bullies, fain to trample Confound such numskulls all! A Probable Papism. WHAT Will the POPE say when his temporal dominion is confined to the "Leonine City?" Perhaps he will compare himself to DANIEL in the Lions' Den. OUR IGNOBLE INSULARITY. WHEN Europe is satisfied, England is tranquil. WORD-PAINTERS AT THE WARS. OUR Own Correspondents at the seat of war, some of them, have got themselves into trouble, having been arrested because they were mistaken for spies. To secure them against any such misfortunes for the future, by rendering the nature of their mission obvious to all beholders, it might be advisable that they should wear some distinctive badge or costume. The representative of each newspaper could go about with the broadsheet of his particular journal affixed to his shoulders, or walk in a sort of tabard, formed by a couple of its billboards. This would be a near approach to a Press uniform; perhaps rather a too near approach to a "foolscap uniform turned up with ink," which would be unsuitable to the literary merit of gentlemen whose and devoid of trivial details, are as interesting and instructive as they narratives, for the most part replete with facts of consequence, are pithy and concise. THE BOOMPJE PAPERS. AT AMSTERDAM-THE BOOMPJE MOTTO-THE NEW GUIDE-AN EXCIT ING PROSPECT. EEMS to me, after visiting Grand Hotel some distance principle to take precious good care of Number One, and let Number Two look out for himself? We know by this time that the meaning of "Dam No. 2" is nothing more than, for instance, "No. 2, Portland Place," or "No. 2, Fleet Street," but the look of the words in this aspect, and their sound when given in the true Boompje-ish manner, recommend them at once to us as the motto for the Boompje Club. When we separate and return to England, each 'member will take this motto back to his own house, and "when in doubt," as directions for whist have it, he will then act on the above Christian sentiment, and be a happy and virtuous Boompje. We won't see the Palace, but we pass through its hall in order to ascend a tower (MAULLIE will go up a tower wherever there is one), in order to see the bird's-eye view. "Now," says BUND, on the second day, "as JöMP never knows anything about any place, I have hired a regular Amsterdam Guide." We applaud the Commander, and the Amsterdam Guide appears. He is a young man with a fresh complexion, and a Hebraic nose, "Why," says our Com-dressed in a brown coat, bright check trousers, yellow waistcoat, blue modore to JÖMP, "we're tie, and a white wideawake, being the only living creature I ever rethe only people in the hotel. member to have seen in any way realising the coloured frontispieces of How's that?" the Music-Hall songs. If the Amsterdam Guide had suddenly thrown himself into an attitude, and announced himself as having been christened "Champagne Charley" by his godfathers and godmothers, none of us would have been more than slightly astonished. We listen; expecting to hear the cause of the conspicuous absence of visitors, something about dull season, or want of funds, or whatever else may account for the emptiness of a Grand Hotel. We look for this, seeing that JöмP has been half an hour in the After the following conversation, which I will here recount, we come Ourselves. What is there? Guide. Vell (uncommonly like JoMP this)-'ave you 'zeen de Canals? As nobody could walk two steps outside (any door in Amsterdam hotel, conversing down-without seeing the canals, this question does appear somewhat pointstairs with the proprietor less. We reply, naturally, that we have seen the canals. and hall-porter. "What's the reason," asks BUND, "of our being the only people here, eh?" Guide (who, to our astonishment, is rather taken aback by our answer, JOMP shrugs his shoulders. It is, evidently, to his mind, too absurd MAULLIE' delighted. Galleries of pictures. He spends his first day with JAN STEEN, REMBRANDT's Night Watch, and VAN DER HELST'S City Guard of Amsterdam. It seems to me, speaking inartistically, that one doesn't understand what portrait-painting is until these marvellous pictures have been studied. "Why," says GOOCH, meditatively, "can't they paint groups of portraits now-a-days, this size?" MAULLIE gives as the probable reason for there being so many grouped portraits, and so, comparatively, few portraits of single gentlemen," that individually the Hollanders were not rich enough to have a picture every man of himself to himself, and so they clubbed together, "The artist," says MUNTLEY, "making a reduction on taking a quantity." We all visit MR. SIX's collection, and enthusiastically admire the pictures of Burgomaster and Burgomistress SIX, painted by REMBRANDT. We drive about the town. The whole party, except MAULLIE, who prefers taking a sketch of the market-place from the carriage, visit the large church, Nieuwe Kerk (first cousin to Scotch Kirk, evidently), and on returning therefrom we find MAULLIE in a great state of excitement. "Here! Hi!" he exclaims, vociferating and waving his umbrella and sketch-book. And "Good heavens!" says GooсH, considerably scandalised, "he needn't do that. We shall have a crowd round us again." dreading this, he hurries on towards the carriage. "I say, you fellows!" cries MAULLIE, excitedly, "I've got the motto for the Boompje Club. Look up there!" With his umbrella he points upwards, towards the other side of the open Place. At first we see nothing except the tall houses closely wedged in between one another, as if they'd come late to see a performance and there was only standing-room for them. "Don't you see?" he asks. We do see, but, clearly, not what he wants us to fix upon. "That inscription-there!" he urges, prodding the umbrella upwards always in the same direction, as if he could touch the spot to which he is drawing our attention. There are names of shopkeepers, of trades, of houses, all in large letters, and we, more or less incorrectly, read them. "Now," he cries, "the next one," and BUND reads aloud an inscription, high up over the second storey of one of the tallest houses, the letters of which are painted in a decided undeniable black on a white ground, Bund (snappishly). Yes, of course we have. Gooch (aside). Comme il est béte! (kindly translating.) What an ass the fellow is! as much as to convey to us the idea that he could have done just as JÖMP, in the background, watches the Guide with a patronising air, well as this Guide-"only you would have him!" is evidently prepared to hear us exclaim, rapturously, "Show us the Guide. Ah! (taking a new line), den you must zee 'de tower. (He tower!") Maullie (shortly). We've seen the tower? Muntley Right through the Palace to the tower. [JÖMP smiles, and looks towards us, deprecating our engagement Guide (coming out with a trump card). You,'ave zeen de Bazaar? Bund (quickly). And we don't want to. Guide (staggered). De-de-Hôtel de Ville ? Guide (almost gasping). De New Church? Guide (despairingly). De Jews' Synagogue? Everybody. O yes! Yesterday in the Jews' Quarter. Guide (tries to collect his thoughts, his memory fails him, he looks wildly round the room, then suddenly composing himself he shrugs his shoulders resignedly, and says) "Vell, den, you 'ave seen it all." JÖMP, too, shrugs his shoulders and nods first at the Guide, then at us, as much as to say, "There, you see, I told you how it would be; better trust your own JöMP." We have engaged the Guide, at least we suddenly discover that JöMP has engaged him, for the whole day. What are we to do with him for the twelve hours? GOOCH positively objects to walk about in company with a Dutch "Champagne Charley. 66 Hang it," says he, "one can't go about with a sort of a 'Lion Comique.' Fancy, if we meet any one we know!" MAULLIE wants to see a Private Collection. The Guide knows it, and offers to conduct MAULLIE thither. Offer accepted. We watch their departure. "Sure such a pair!" quotes Gooch. And when they return," says BUND, who is settling down to A wonderful place." And forthwith he reads an extract from Murray Murray, "we'll go to the village of Broek. It's the thing to see. concerning all the marvels to be met with in this unique village. We all wish MAULLIE Would make haste and return, so that we "There!" says he, "isn't that the motto? Isn't the Boompje might hurry off post haste to Broek, where there are model farms, "DAM No. 2." HULLO! THE PRINCE IMPERIAL? NO, ONLY A TELEGRAPHIC DESPATCH-BOY IN THE VICINITY OF A NEWSPAPER OFFICE. THE POLITENESS OF THE NEWSPAPER ROWDIES IS UNBOUNDED! A WORD TO THE WISE. HOMER again! Who forgets the glorious conclusion of the Odyssey? ULYSSES, aged, wise, valiant, and supported by his son, the brave and good TELEMACHUS, is driven to make war upon those who in his absence, had invaded his home. His arms are blessed with conquest, and the chiefs who were his enemies have fallen. But their followers maintain the strife, instead of submitting, and the old King and the young Prince resolve on further vengeance. All goes down before them, and "Before the Father and the conquering Son Heaps rush on heaps, they fight, they drop, they run. But a higher agency interposes to prevent a needless carnage, and WISDOM, in the person of her Goddess MINERVA, comes down to check the victors, and to prevent their abusing their triumph. "Descended from the Gods! ULYSSES, cease: The hero of Divine Right, the Wise King, is too pious not to listen to such a warning, and having taken guarantee that his household shall not again be disturbed, he grants the peace. Does Poetry as well as History repeat itself? Behold the Cartoon! GEMS FROM A FRENCH JOURNAL. AMONG the multitude of extracts quoted from the French papers by our own, here is at last a passage which evinces human reason. It occurs in Le Figaro : this double question-Is peace necessary? Is peace possible? To which we "The Figaro was the first, or at least among the first, to tackle resolutely replied, yes. It shows no cowardice, but rather courage, to break away from the longing for vengeance and the heroic resolution to hold out which cause the heart of France to throb. The time of florid phraseology to the sound of the trumpet and the drum has ceased." "O bravo, Figaro, bravo bravissimo!" The reasoning Figaro adds: "Paris and the departments are no longer willing to intoxicate themselves with words, shouts, and trumpets." It is very greatly to be hoped that this statement is as true as the observations preceding it are rational. And let us trust that, if France and Paris (especially Paris) have in truth been brought to their senses by military disasters incurred through vainglorious frivolity, the wisdom which they will have purchased by experience will not desert them when experience has discontinued its teaching. As soon as they are restored to prosperity-and the sooner the better-let them set to at dancing again with all their soul, and toe and heel, and teach Europe to dance as heretofore, that is to say, formerly, and not of late; for they latterly taught people to dance the cancan, and have been violently carried away from grace in the character of dancing-masters. But may we find that they have finally left off talking about la gloire, and will never again be heard shouting "A Berlin!" or "A" anywhere else, or singing "Rataplan!" Having thoroughly realised the consequences of breaking the peace, may they show that they have grown wiser than wantonly to break it again, and then be as merry as they have become wise; that is to say, much merrier than ever. EUROPEAN POLICE QUESTION.-The French want peace; but into what sureties will they enter to keep it? |