TO MR. PUNCH.
SIR,—Having incautiously witnessed two consecutive performances of Mr. Macready in the “Lady of Lyons,” the comic portions of them threw me into a state of deep and chronic melancholy, which the various physicians employed were unable to cure. Hearing, however, of your excellent medicine, I took it regularly every Saturday for five weeks, and am now able to go about my daily employment, which being that of a low comedian, was materially interfered with by my late complaint.
I remain, with gratitude, yours truly,
JOHN SAUNDERS.
New Strand Theatre.
SIR,—I was, till lately, private secretary to Lord John Russell. I had to copy his somniferous dispatches, to endure a rehearsal of his prosy speeches, to get up, at an immense labour to myself, incessant laughs at his jokes. At length, by the enormous exertions the last duty imposed upon me, I sunk into a hopeless state of cachinnatory impotence: my risible muscles refused to perform their office, and I lost mine. I was discharged. Fortunately, however, for me, I happened to meet with your infallible “Pills to Purge Melancholy,” and tried Nos. 1 to 10 inclusive of them.
With feelings overflowing with gratitude, I now inform you, that I have procured another situation with Sir James Graham; and to show you how completely my roaring powers have returned, I have only to state, that it was I who got up the screeching applause with which Sir James’s recent jokes about the Wilde and Tame serjeants were greeted.
I am, Sir, yours,
GEORGE STEPHEN,
Late “over”-Secretary, and Author of the “Canadian Rebellion.”
SIR,—Being the proprietor of several weekly newspapers, which I have conducted for many years, my jocular powers gradually declined, from hard usage and incessant labour, till I was reduced to a state of despair; for my papers ceasing to sell, I experienced a complete stoppage of circulation.
In this terrible state I had the happiness to meet with your “Essence of Guffaw,” and tried its effect upon my readers, by inserting several doses of your Attic salt in my “New Weekly Messenger,” “Planet,” &c. &c. The effects were wonderful. Their amount of sale increased at every joke, and has now completely recovered.
I am, Sir,
JOHN BELL.
Craven-street, Strand.
Note.—This testimonial is gratifying, as the gentleman has hitherto failed to acknowledge the source of the wonderful cure we have effected in his property.
SIR,—As the author of the facetious political essays in the “Morning Herald,” it is but due to you that I should candidly state the reason why my articles have, of late, so visibly improved.
In truth, sir, I am wholly indebted to you. Feeling a gradual debility come over my facetiæ, I tried several potions of the “New Monthly” and “Bentley’s Miscellany,” without experiencing the smallest relief. “PUNCH” and his “Essence of Guffaw” were, however, most strongly recommended to me by my friend the editor of “Cruikshank’s Omnibus,” who had wonderfully revived after taking repeated doses. I followed his example, and am now completely re-established in fine, jocular health.
I am, Sir,
THE “OWN CORRESPONDENT.”
Shoe-lane.
Inestimable SIR,—A thousand blessings light upon your head! You have snatched a too fond heart from a too early grave. My life-preserver, my PUNCH! receive the grateful benedictions of a resuscitated soul, of a saved Seraphina Simpkins!
Samuel, dearest PUNCH, was false! He took Jemima to the Pavilion; I detected his perfidy, and determined to end my sorrows under the fourth arch of Waterloo-bridge.
In my way to the fatal spot I passed—no, I could not pass—your office. By chance directed, or by fate constrained, I stopped to read a placard of your infallible specific. I bought one dose—it was enough. I have now forgotten Samuel, and am happy in the affection of another.
Publish this, if you please; it may be of service to young persons who are crossed in love, and in want of straw-bonnets at 3s. 6d. each, best Dunstable.
I am, yours,
SERAPHINA SIMPKINS,
Architect of Tuscan, straw, and other bonnets, Lant-street, Borough.
CAUTION.—None are genuine unless duly stamped—with good humour, good taste, and good jokes. Observe: “PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, price Threepence,” is on the cover. Several spurious imitations are abroad, at a reduced price, the effects of which are dreadful upon the system.