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July 25, 1868.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 37

returning from the Olympic). Mrs. Howard Paul is very good, but the piece is entirely un-English. (Quoted from the observations of Mr. John Bull, Senior, now asleep.) It is a pity that the Queen does not resume her personal patronage of our theatres. From your account, my dear (To Mrs. J. B. Junior), I do not think that such a performance would have been tolerated by Her Majesty. What do you say, John? (Rousing him). Really you are always asleep when theatrical subjects require your consideration.

Mr. John Bull (awakening to the situation). My dear, I don't understand this introduction of can-cans. I can't make out why my licences permits to French players in England what would neither be allowed to our own performers, nor to them, I believe, in their own country. Some two hundred years ago we English required an apology for the appearance of a female actor upon the stage. For another reason, it seems to be required now. The stage, as a clever writer has observed, should be a popular school of morality, a supplement to the pulpit, where virtue, according to Plato's sublime idea, nerves our love and affections, where—

Jack B. Junior. Come Governor, here we are. (Carriage stops.) I'll smoke a pipe after supper with you, and talk it over. Julia (to his wife), Would you like to see Schneider in La Belle Hélène?

Both Ladies (decidedly). No, thank you. Instead of wasting your money on that, take stalls for the Opera.

P.S. Since writing the above I have seen La Belle Hélène—announced, by the way, as produced for the first time in London. This is not correct. Helen, with nearly all the music, was done at the Adelphi, and M. Offenbach himself complimented Miss Furtado upon her performance of the beautiful Queen. Miss Furtado had the advantage over Mlle. Schneider in many respects, and Mr. Toole was far beyond his French prototype as Menelaus. Neither of them can sing brilliantly. Again, the riddle scene in the First Act is tedious in the French original, as is also the Game of Goose in the Second Act, which was wisely omitted at the Adelphi.

In its French form, and played as it is at the St. James's, it would not last a week here were it not for Mlle. Schneider's prestige and the judiciously high prices; but Helen at the Adelphi, with Mrs. Mellon, Miss Furtado, and Paul Bedford (pleasanter to the eye in his stolidity than is M. Ravel with his overdone buffoonery) ran for upwards of a hundred nights, and is still a favourite piece.

Mlle. Schneider as Helen is perhaps scarcely so extravagant in her vulgarity as in La Grande Duchesse, but there is all that excessive grimacing, continual adoption of a “cad”-tone (which her admirers think so charmingly clever), that pointless introduction of rough horseplay, hitting and kicking, without which Schneider would not be Schneider.

The “cascader” song does not give her such an opportunity for acting as did the “Dites-lui,” and as there is no translation of it in the boo, (there is a weak adaptation incorporated with something else on another page,) our English ladies, not understanding, follow the male lead in their applause. I don't suppose they know much about the history of Jupiter and Læda, which is delicately portrayed on the wall of Helen's chamber. Well, well, it was coldly received by a very warm audience. Royalty was not there, and not many stopped to the end: those who did, however, got up a feeble call for the great actress.

The costumes were dull. By the way, when classical dresses are worn, is it not usual for French actors to adopt caleçons? I was in the stalls: need I say more? The second Ajax was knocked by Mlle. Schneider right over a stool, heels uppermost.

M. Duplan was not equal to the rôle of Paris, he could not touch the high note in his song about the three goddesses. Perhaps he was suffering from cold; but he was much better in Fritz. The rest were nowhere; except Orestes, who shone out as she did in Wanda by the neat quiet finish of her burlesque acting. I have alluded to the English translation sold with the French book: it is what might be called “humorous,” awakening a gentle feeling of pity in the reader's breast, but lacking the genuine fun of the usual English libretto to a serious Italian Opera.

So much for Mlle. Schneider at the St. James's. I have done.

MARCUS CURTIUS, OR A LEAP IN THE DARK.

(A Classical Comic Song for a Music Hall.)

Civis Romanum sum I am, an ancient rum'un true; So now I'll sing a rummy lay of ancient Rome to you A Swell, gents, of the period, here in toga togged you see; Now don't you fancy Kickero looked very much like me?

(Spoken.)—Old Kickero was a celebrated Lawyer, you know. I daresay you've heard of Kickero's Offices. They wasn't in Lincoln's Inn; nor yet in the Temple of—Jupiter, or any other divinity. But never mind Kickero. 'Tis another ancient rum'un I'm going to tell you about—

With my 'ic 'oc 'orum, unky dorum, asinus dum sto. Did you ever see such a Guy as me, Quirites? O! Io!

Now listen to the story what I'm going to relate, I'll take my arf a David of the truth of all I state, We 'ad at Rome, I tell you 'cause I don't suppose you know, A place we called the Forum, 'bove two thousand years ago.

(Spoken.)—Well; this Forum, you see, was an open space surrounded with public buildins, like—I don't know what you've got exactly—but suppose I saw Trafalgar Square—

With my 'ic 'oc 'orum, &c.

A wonder in the Forum did our minds one day astound, The earth yawned right asunder, and wide open gaped the ground; We couldn't tell, how deep 'twas to the bottom of 'ole, Some said it 'ad no bottom; and they called it Pluto's Bowl.

(Spoken.)—You'd have said Ancient Nicholas's Bowl. Pluto, he was the Ancient Nicholas of the ancient rum 'uns, but we didn't fancy he drank punch; thought his tipple was nectar, 'cause we 'adn't got no punch ourselves, either liquid or literary, in my young days'

With my 'ic oc orum, &c.

This 'orrid gulf we looked on with astonishment and fear, As Dr. Cumming views a sign the end is drawin' near; And then it 'indered bisnis worse than ever you 'ad yours With excavations made by the Commissioners of Sewers.

(Spoken.)—You see, we used to 'old public meetins in the Forum with our Bealeses and Potters in the Chair. There was situated our Sessions Ouses and Palaces of Justice; so in course a great 'ole in the middle of the Forum was a bore of uncommon dimensions to by fellow-citizens and self—

With my 'ic oc orum, &c.

We sent and asked the oracle what course we should pursue, The answer we got back was one that put us in a stew— That 'ole will never close up, was the message brought us 'ome, Till it has 'ad flung down it the most precious thing in Rome.

(Spoken.)—Now, in London I suppose you'd call that the Koh-i-Noor. But we 'ad a jewel among us that proved worth any diamond—a regular Brick, as I may say—

With my 'ic oc orum, &c.

“Now what, in all Rome's city of more value can there be Than youth and arms and valour—a young swell, in short, like me?” So said a cove who thirsted less for cooper than for fame, One Marcus Curtius, to pronounce his full and proper name.

(Spoken.)—Only, you see, we used generally to call him Mark Curtius, by way of abbreviation. I was in the 'abit of sayin that Curtius was a title of courtesy—

With my 'ic oc orum, &c.

“I'm in for it,” the 'Ero cried, and few more words he spoke, With which he put his armour on, and jumped across his moke, And right into the Forum, amid all the people's cheers, He rode the patient animal distinguished by his ears.

(Spoken.)—Some said there went a pair of 'em, and inquired which was the biggest moke of the two. For my part, now, if you ask my opinion, my answer is, I can't exactly say—

With my 'ic oc orum, &c.

They went together at the 'ole, but down the moke did peep; He didn't seem to see the fun of takin such a leap. “'It'im be'ind,” said Curtius, and thereon exclaimed, “Here goes!” So down they went, and over them the earth at once did close.

(Spoken.)—To the mingled 'orror and admiration of the be'olders. The Patres Conscripti werry much applauded what he had done, and on the strength of it took a boat and went to Philippi, where it formed the leadin topic of their conversation. They called it an 'eroic act of self-sacrifice and virtue as was its own reward, which may be quite sufficient for some people, but decidedly not for Josephus, oh dear, no; not for Joe. Accordingly, peraps you'll excuse me if I venture to improve the occasion—

With my 'ic oc orum, &c, and conclude with an appropriate

Moral.

Reflect on Marcus Curtius, gents, and let his early fate Be an example to avoid and not to imitate; Don't act with eyes wide open like that caution to young men, 'Tis easier gettin in a 'ole than gettin out again.

NOT A MILITARY NATION?

In the prospect of a General Election all England is one camp. The whole people, at least all the householders, are under canvas.

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38 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [July 25, 1868.

[Illustration]

AN EXPLANATION.

Freddy. “Each wanted it, Mamma dear, an' so Baby pullded it, an' I pullded it, an' then Dolly breaked itself in two, and' Baby falled over an' 'itted 'er 'ed, an' 'urted 'erself, an' callded out,” &c., &c. [And so on for five minutes.

SHAFTESBURY TO THE RESCUE!

Bravo, Shaftesbury! Fear not but Punch and John Bull You will find at your back for a long and strong pull, From our Protestant pie to keep out the Pope's paw, And on Ritual rigs clap the stopper of law. Hold tight to your Bill that proclaims through the land, That no monkey nor monkish tricks England will stand. As for vestments, and incense, and lights and such stuff, Let who want them seek Rome, where they'll find quantum suff. But we won't have Pope's work done by Anglican hands, Nor in Protestant rope let 'em twist Popish strands. Of the claims of the Church let the Ritualists jaw; There's but one Church of England—the Church of the Law!

Let Denison shudder at thought of a Church Where priest high o'er layman has no right to perch. He may prose and may prate, and declaim at his ease, Of the charge to St. Peter, the power of the keys; Bull loves the old rule that no strange shaven poll In English dominion shall tithe, tax, or toll. And his Church is a Church that holds clergy and lay One in eye of the Law both are bound to obey. His Church has no sanction that Law does not bound, His Church has no terrors that Law does not ground. Sway or swag whence they list other churches may draw, England's Church has one root and one refuge—the Law.

No miracle-mong'ring she needs or desires, Simple service and seemly is all she requires. 'Tis enough in our clergy if models we see In learning and life of what laymen should be. By the lives that they lead more of power they will reach, Than by titles they claim or by sermons they preach; 'Tis the man that makes sacred the office he bears, Not the rites he performs or the vestment he wears.

These moppings and mowings, incensings and lights, As mummeries are harmless, but serious as rites. Who trust their hocus pocus had better withdraw From the Old Church of England, the Church of the Law.

THE ROMAN CITIZENS AND THEIR BIG BROTHER.

Of course, Louis Napoleon, you observed the passage following in the address presented by the Roman Committee to the King of Prussia, on the anniversary of the Battle of Sadowa:—

“The most ardent wish entertained this day by the Roman people is, that under your wise guidance the noble German country may fully attain its object, and raise itself to that absolute greatness that does not envy the development of other peoples, nor desire to oppose it.”

Is there a nation, think you, between which and the German a contrast is suggested in the words foregoing? Do you know of any nation in Europe which has not raised itself to that pitch of greatness that does not envy nor desire to oppose the development of other peoples? No you don't. It is a mistake to suppose that the French is that nation. France is too generous to be such a nation as that. If she appears to be so ignoble a nation, that appearance is simply owing to the deplorable fact that her Government is forced to oppose the completion of Italian unity by a groundless fear of the influence of an Ultramontane priesthood.

Only Natural.

They say that the War Office Clerks are in revolt against King Storks. No wonder. They have been used to King Logs, and don't want a change of dynasty.

Most Likely.—Is it because so many Swells have “handles” to their names that they are called “knobs?”