GRAND CHORUS.
Hulla boys, Hulla boys,
Let the "belles" ring;
Hulla boys, Hulla boys,
So the Whigs sing.
The Council of State
In their heads have a crotchet,
In spite of lawn sleeves,
In spite of the rochet;
To put for a salvo
The nation in tune,
By keeping them singing
From July till June.
And who can sweet music
A moment despise?
For singing is better,
Far better than sighs.
To reconcile Chartists
To duties on corn,
We'll give them a flourish
Or two on the horn.
To strike all the grumblers
In factories mute,
We'll give them a solo
Each day on the flute.
Should the multitude ask,
By petition, a boon,
We'll grant them reply
Through our "Budget" bassoon.
And when they shall sicken,
And when they shall fret,
We'll soothe them like lambs,
With our State clarionet.
Should they from their chains
Endeavour to wriggle,[5]
We'll keep them in bonds
By a waltz on the fiddle.
They shall not despair,
Nor hang, drown, or strangle,
We Whigs will strike up
Our tinkling triangle.
And should this not do,
In arms should they come,
We'll frighten them soon
By a roll of the drum!
Practising for the Army.—As shooting and slaying are the legitimate objects of this profession, you cannot begin too early. The first instrument to be used is a pea-shooter; this is for the age P.C. previous to corderoys. The second is a pop-gun, indicating the age of breeches (and breaches). From this we arise to "sparrow-shooting," after the ruse de guerre of the salt-box has been tried without effect. Being now grown bloody-minded, we go to that sanguiniferous-looking house at Battersea, called the Red House, (being of a blood colour, from the enormous slaughter committed near it,) and here we take lessons in pigeon-shooting. From hence to the Shooting Gallery, Pall Mall, we improve rapidly. A lieutenancy in the Guards is our next step. To this succeeds a dispute respecting the glottis of Mademoiselle Catasquallee, and "Chalk-Farm" or "Wimbledon Common" is the result; and here, unless courage should ooze out of our fingers' ends, we may stop; our courage is apparent, and for the future we may shoot with the "long-bow" to all eternity without fear of contradiction.
Practising for the Profession.—"Cutting up" and "Cut and come again," are the maxims of the surgeon; and as no trade or profession can live except by the adoption of the "cutting system," and if a man cannot cut a figure, he will assuredly be cut by his acquaintance, surely the art should be thoroughly studied. As a preliminary step, Burking and body-snatching must be mastered; and then you may go snacks in a "subject," and take your "loin of pauper," "leg of pauper," or "shoulder of beggar," or "rump of beggar," or "sirloin of alderman," or "fore-quarter of citizen," or "hand and spring" of beadle or bellman. Or should your taste be fastidious, you may take a "fillet of cherrybum;" or club for a "sucking-kid." On these practise till you are perfect; and should it so happen that any of the personages above-named should turn out to be related by consanguinity, be as stoical as a reviewer, and make no bones of cutting-up (if necessary for science) your own father.
Practising for the Ministry.—The aspirant for the "tub," "born in a garret, in a kitchen bred," commences his spiritual career by announcing to the elect that he is almost sure that he has had a call (caul), for he has heard his mother say he was born with one. He may next exhibit his buffetings with Satan by showing the marks of the beast, in the shape of double-dealing, pettifogging, shuffling, cutting and cheating; he may next venture on the new birth.
He now attempts open-air preaching on Kennington Common, and exhibits spiritual rabidity in good earnest. He foams at the mouth, barks and bites, and yells in his ravings; calls himself from a pig to a dog, and from a dog to no gentleman. What is he? "A bundle of filthy rags," "a whited sepulchre," "a cancerous sore," a "sink of pollution," "a mass of corruption," "a cesspool," "a common sewer," "a worm," "a scorpion," "a snake," "a spider," "an adder." He may also charge himself with murder, abomination, witchcraft, lying, and every vice denounced in the Decalogue, on the principle of "the greater the sinner the greater the saint."
Having thus initiated himself into the spiritual fraternity, he may write a work to prove that the "Church damns more souls than she saves."[6] He then mounts the rostrum as a burning and a shining light. He deals in brimstone, wholesale, retail, and for exportation. Now he unites his spiritual with secular power, and mixes parliamentary logic with divinity, electioneering squibs with "Hymns of the Chosen;" makes Lucifer cuckold, and swears himself his true liege man on the cross-buttock of a radical candidate. He now receives the degree of D.D. from a Scotch university, for 7l. 13s. 6d., and begins to feel as "big as bull-beef;" his lank hair curls; he has red velvet cushions to his tub; he begowns and belappets himself; he looks on all sides for an half-idiot heiress, or infatuated widow in a state of fatuity, and marries. Thus he jumps into his bishopric, makes religion a "good spec," till it is found out he has had "two wives" before, and a variety of miniature portraits of himself:—and thus ends his Practice.
PRACTISING FOR THE OPERA.
RULE XIII.
BARTER—BUYING AND SELLING—PROFIT AND LOSS.
Man is a "forgiving animal," and this is a better definition of him than Plato's "biped without feathers," which the plucked cock demonstrated. Man is the only animal which strikes a bargain. A dog does not exchange a bone with another dog; and however skilful he may be at a steak, he is not at all clever at this sort of "chop."
"Our chops are our masters," says Hobbes; and it is all "a matter of wittles," says Sam Weller. Hence arise the art and mystery of swapping, buying, and selling, and the notion of trade and commerce.
England is per se a nation of shopkeepers—we do every thing upon the principle of small profits and quick returns. To barter the national honour is legitimate policy; to sell up our enemies has been a practice since the days of the Plantagenets.
"Jocky of Norfolk, be not too bold,
For Dickon thy master is bought and sold."
Hence we can always buy our enemies, if we cannot beat them. Buonaparte, according to the radicals, was sold at Waterloo; we have been recently sold to the Russians; and thus British gold has been always more powerful than British steel.
D'ye buy, d'ye buy, d'ye buy,
A sheep's head or a lamb's eye.
Ten thousand thanks will be given to any influential gentleman who will procure the advertiser a place of commensurate value under government: an under lord of the treasury, a commissioner of excise, a distributor of stamps, a head clerkship, or any other situation, in which the principal duties are to receive the salary.
Here is your lolly pops and real
Wellington brandy balls, sixteen a penny
As long as there is any.
Appointments in the army secured without risk, loss, or trouble to the purchaser. Cornetcies, Ensigncies, Lieutenancies, Colonelcies, to be disposed of, at the lowest possible prices. Also a few cast-off ribbons, stars, spurs, and garters, to be had a bargain.
One a penny buns,
Two a penny buns;
One a penny,
Two a penny,
Hot cross buns.
The next presentation to a valuable rectory, to be had for a song. A title for orders, "cheap as dirt." Degrees may be obtained of A.M., LL.D., D.C.L. and D.D., on reasonable terms; and livings wholesale, retail, and for exportation. Apply at the "Bottle-nose Head," York; or at the "Frigasseed surplice," Canterbury.
Here's your spiced gingerbread,
All hot, all hot;
Taste 'em and try 'em,
Before you buy 'em;
All hot, all hot, all hot.
Comfortable and respectable sittings at Beelzebub Chapel, Brimstone Alley, St. Luke's, under an able minister, by the quarter, month, or year. Pews to hold eight, 2l. 12s. 6d. per annum; single sittings, 10s. The Pewseyites will have the right of election and other privileges.—N.B. No connexion with the parish church next door.
Cat's meat, dog's meat;
Dog's meat, cat's meat.
To be sold, peremptorily, the property of a gentleman about to travel, (once a rum cove, now a Sidney cove,) a five-year old hunter, the most splendid horse in Europe, with grand action. Got by Spavin out of Roarer, grandsire Glanders, grandam Botts, warranted sound and without fault; (blemishes are not faults, but misfortunes;) gentle to ride, quiet to drive, warranted to do fourteen stone, or any other weight. Price 120 guineas.—No abatement.
To the highest bidder,
Here's your rich and ripe faggots,
A penny a piece, a penny a piece;
Here's your savory faggots.
Sale by auction, in Smithfield. Without reserve. A most eligible and desirable lot. Coming in low. Parasol, bustle, and baggage included. My better half. Weight, sixteen stone. Has taken the lead at All Max. Temper, mild (horse-radish). Eloquence, Broughamatic. Voice, Saffernhillish. Person, Nixmydollyish. Talons, cataclawdish.—No abatement.
The idea of trade and commerce naturally leads us to the consideration of the sublime science of Political Economy, which endeavours to dogmatize that profound conundrum, that the natural rate of wages is that which barely affords the labourer the means of subsistence, and of continuing the race of labourers—meaning thereby, the starvation point at which a labourer can be worked. It is assumed that the labourer has so much work in him, and the problem is to draw it out at the least possible cost—of whip or legal enactment—or police forces or military expenditure.
Another leading doctrine of the political economists is, the fatal necessity of starvation. It is maintained, and that seriously, that "God, when he made man, intended that he should be starved;" that human fecundity tends to get the start of the means of subsistence; that the former moves as 2, 4, 8, 16, 32, 64; but the latter only as 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. The consequence drawn from this proposition is, that poor-laws, or any efforts of charity, are only a childish indulgence of feeling; for since there will be a surplus number, who must at all events be starved, if the life of one is saved by charity, whether public or private, it is only that another may be starved in its stead. Hence the perishing of annual multitudes may be looked upon as a proof of the national wealth; and the poor-law system, and the Queen's Letter, but so much concern utterly useless; and the only remedy for our abundant population is for us to return to the system of the ancients, and legalize a few Herods, or, to go further back, to make every man a Saturn—the eater of his own children.
RULE XIV.
DISCOUNT.
Discount is the allowance made to a person, for paying money before it is due; so says Walkinghame; but there are now few persons who commit so egregious a folly, the plan being not to pay until it has been due a long time, and then get discount as for ready money.
The usual manner of settling accounts in the City is to purchase for ready money; to give a bill at three months, which is to be considered as equal to ready money; and when the bill becomes due to give—the cash? No! but another bill at five months. This is called cash payments.
Leaving the City, as being "vulgar," let us look at discount by the broad light of Universality. Discount means something "taken off," or reduced by so much, or decreased in value, or lessened.
"DISCOUNTING FOR A MAN FORMERLY."
A man is said to be at a discount on 'Change, when he has no change at the Bank; when he has no banker in the City; when "no effects" is written on his "mandible:"—at Almack's, when he ceases to invite dinner eaters; among the ladies, when grey hairs and crows' feet make their appearance, and teeth their disappearance.
Par, above par, below par. We are at par, when in that blessed state of equanimity found in perfection at a Quakers' meeting; above par, when floundering about in champagne; and below par, when cooling down on water gruel and Seidlitz.
Examples of discount at the present moment are too numerous to mention. Every thing seems at a discount; radicals, dissenters, theatricals, fine arts, scientificks, trade, commerce, manufactures. Asses' heads alone are looking up.
RULE XV.
INVOLUTION AND EVOLUTION.
Involution and Evolution are two rules of arithmetic which signify getting in and getting out. Involution signifies such matters as getting in love, getting into a lawsuit, or getting into debt. It is the rule of entanglement, and is represented by a fly in a spider's web.
Evolution comprehends all the tricks, shifts, schemes, and stratagems, by which we get out of our various difficulties; but it may be observed that it is much easier to become involved in any matter, than to get disentangled: whatever may be our evolutions, it is a difficult matter to get out of love, out of a law-suit, or out of debt.