"Oh! Jenkins, homme du peuple—mangez bien![18]
Désormais avec toi nous ferons rien,
Vous êtes tout usé—chose qui montre la corde,[19]
Nos lecteurs étaient mal de toi d'abord;
Allez-vous-en—votre bâton coupez vite,
En Ponch jamais votre nom—désormais sera dite."

But when the possibilities of "Jenkins" were fully realised, he was revived, and for some years did excellent service as a subject for humorous attack.

A more serious campaign upon which Punch now entered was that against the "Standard" and the "Morning Herald." He had with some astuteness, and doubtless not without sincerity, ranged himself on the side of the "Times," and threw himself into the fray with all the zest and some of the irresponsibility of the licensed jester.[20] "Martin Chuzzlewit" had already seized upon the town, and the names of Mrs. Gamp and Mrs. Harris were on everybody's lips. Punch chose to assume that the "Morning Herald" and the "Standard"—morning and evening papers then which represented the Conservative party, both of them until 1857 belonging to one proprietor—were edited respectively by the two ladies aforesaid. The "Standard" was very wroth. It would not have been so sore perhaps at being dubbed "Betsy Prig;" but, being in fact almost a reprint of the "Herald," the suggestion of "Mrs. Harris"—a creature of no existence, the mere reflex of Mrs. Gamp's own inane and besodden brain—was too calmly provoking, as it was meant to be, to be borne in silence. These two journals were highly unpopular at the time; for the "Manchester School" was making headway, and Free Trade was already a powerful and significant cry. So when Punch laughed at them for two—though really one—disreputable old women, and Leech's inimitable pencil typified them as such, in mob-cap and pattens, the public laughed with him, whatever their own political opinion might be. It should be noted, however, that Punch's first brush with the "Herald" was personal, not political. In February, 1843, the latter journal had fathered upon Punch a poor joke of which he was entirely innocent, and which he repudiated in an article entitled "Impudent Attempt at Fraud." The quarrel thus begun in fun was continued in earnest, and soon the "Herald," as a representative of public opinion, had no more damaging assailant than "our humorous contemporary."

Now, in November, 1845, there appeared a reference to "Mrs. Harris, Editress of the Standard," as well as a drawing by Leech, called "Maternal Solicitude," which was intended to satirise the snobbery of persons who name their children after the Royal Family. It represents the visit of one lady to another, while a pair of repulsive-looking brats of one of them make up the group. "And the dear children?" asks the friend. "Why," replies the fond mother, "Alexandrina Victoria is a good deal better; but dear little Albert here is still very delicate."

MATERNAL SOLICITUDE.

"And the dear children?"

"Why, Alexandrina Victoria is a good deal better; but dear little Albert here is still very delicate."

(Drawn by John Leech. From "Punch," Nov. 23rd, 1845.)

Thereupon the "Standard" opened the floodgates of its anger in a leading article, the whole tone of which is a curious contrast to its dignity and moderation at the present day. In the course of its outburst it said:—