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Untitled Article
poem , especially of the Byron , school . He is admired only at a distance ; his associates have a different notion of the matter , as would his admirers , were they his associates . Punch has no friends . Even his dog Toby—the moral and respectable
Chorus of the Drama—bites nis nose dreadfully . And , why ? Because Punch fyas boxed his ears for nothing , and as hard as he could ! Be it , however , remembered , that this nothing—i . e . quietude , or repose of manner , —is something to Punch ; who resents it as an unbearable antithesis to his own character .
Punch's hump shows plainly that he is an abortion of some huge and unnatural parentage . He should have been put in spirits of wine directly he was born , and exhibited in a bottle in some College of Surgeons , instead of crowing and boxing and trumpeting about the streets of the civilized world . As to his legs , they are very seldom seen , —and no wonder . He may well be ashamed of them , " Sure such a pair were never seen !"
Lean , limp , and crooked , they seem to have been drained of all their juices in order to supply a preponderating strength to his upper arid combative members . I used to fancy in my youth that Punch was not unlike FalStaff . 'Twas a youthful fancy of the eye only . Punch has not a jot of that wit which redeems the worst qualities of Falstaff to the imagination . I next fancied him a living satire upon
the hero-character and its vain-glory ; but , no : —he has no excuse for the enormity of his actions . In him , perversity usurps the organ meant for reason . Witness his ostentatious and absurd performance on the French-horn , whereof he is vain in proportion to the extent of the damnable nuisance he creates . He is no representative of any headlong , commanding impulse ;
he has no singleness of purpose ; no object of ambition or pride ; no decency , and no shame . He is a thoroughly unredeemed coxcomb of humorous animal caprices . He has more points in common with Christopher North than anybody else , who apes Punch continually , and lays about him in just the saaie indiscriminating way . Both are Professors of Moral Depravity , and rare practitioners withal .
Christopher Puqch may be considered as the antithesis of real civilization . Indians are refined when compared with him in his worstt state . They do not knock people on the , head for fun ; neither would they laugh at it , as we do . What would Don Quixote have said to such goings on ?—he who subjected kings , que en # , and conjurors , to such fine-drawn distinctions
touching watqre , history , and justice ? Even the Duke of Wellingtottr-T-even that hard man—what must be his feelings on "wifcnevsj&ing this audacious exhibition ? No money or lands at stake ; pothing gained by the slaughter . All for fun ! But here we must admit one salvo in favour of our general humanity , the which I have brought into a serious dilemma
Untitled Article
116 Analytical Disquisition on Punch and Judy .
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Citation
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Monthly Repository (1806-1838) and Unitarian Chronicle (1832-1833), Feb. 1, 1837, page 116, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/mruc/issues/vm2-ncseproduct1828/page/69/
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