Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 104, May 20, 1893

After this, what was the show! Everybody was somebody else. Only the Queen and the Prince were beyond the power of error. She found them out at once. She was enthusiastic about the distinctness of the Prince's voice in reading the Address, and she bent forward so as not to lose a syllable of the Queen's gracious reply. She explained everything wrong. A few ladies looked at her, mutely beseeching some respite for their ears; would she only give herself ten minutes' rest? No—it was a great chance for the well-informed young woman, and she made the most of it. Even the heat didn't affect her. Processions might come, and processions might go, but like the babbling brook, she could and would go on for ever. I have forgotten to add that she also knew how everyone arrived, and her Grandmother was much interested at hearing how Her Majesty's Judges all came in an omnibus, driven and conducted by eminent judicial functionaries.
A grand show, Abely worked by our Secretary, says Sir Early-Springs-and-Somers Vine, C.M.G., Assistant Secretary, and to both of them great praise is due. Now, then, to adapt the title of Lord Lytton's novel, What will we do with it?
The Man who Went.
In the Song of the Sword and Other Verses , Mr. Henley incidentally asks, What have I done for you, England, my England? Since the question is put so pointedly, my Baronite, who has been looking through the little volume of verse, is bound to reply that, what Mr. Henley has done for England is to make it as ridiculous as is possible to a man with a limited audience. Mr. Henley has a pretty gift of versification, but it is spoiled by a wearisome proneness to smartness, and an assumption of personal superiority that occasionally reaches the heights of the ludicrous. If 'Arry had been at the University, and had bent what he calls his mind upon verse-making, some of the truculent rhyme in this book is the sort of stuff he would have turned out. It seems at first hearing a far cry from 'Arry to Henley. But the dispassionate reader, turning over these sulphurous leaves, will perceive deeply-rooted similarity in that narrowness of view, and that undisturbed consciousness that it alone is right, which distinguish the reflections, and are found in the observations, of 'Arry when he views society from his lower standpoint.