ng-room
rather than of the debating society and the vestry room. Mr. Ruskin,
among others, deplored _Punch's_ kid gloves and evening-dress, when
amiable obituary notices on Baron Bethell--(had he not been _Punch's_
counsel in the old days?)--and the Bishop of Winchester were published.
"Alas, Mr. Punch," he wrote, "is it come to this? And is there to be no
more knocking down, then? And is your last scene in future to be shaking
hands with the devil?"[49] _Punch_ can still hit hard; though "knocking
down" is no longer his main delight. His text has become as refined as
his art--and that, of course, is the reason that it no longer commands
the chief attention of the class that once was led by it. At that time
its art alone carried it into circles that abhorred its politics, and it
is recorded that Mulready was driven to excuse himself to one of the
Staff for not reading the text by the lame confession that he was "no
bookworm!"

FOOTNOTES:

[48] Having mentioned the name of Edmund Yates, I may here contradict
the statement that that distinguished journalist ever wrote for _Punch_.
The belief arose partly through Martin F. Tupper's "My Life as an
Author":--"I remember also how he dropped in on me at Albany one
morning, just as I happened to be pasting into one of my books a few
quips and cranks anent my books from _Punch_. He adjured me 'not to do
it! for Heaven's sake spare me!' covering his face with his hands.
'What's the matter, friend?' 'I wrote all those,' added he in earnest
penitence, 'and I vow faithfully never to do it again!' 'Pray don't make
a rash promise, Edmund, and so unkind a one too; I rejoice in all this
sort of thing--it sells my books, besides--I'se Maw-worm--I likes to be
despised!' 'Well, it's very good-natured of you to say so, but I really
never will do it again;' and the good fellow never did--so have I lost
my most telling advertisement" (p. 326). Considering, however, that
Yates was on the worst of terms with Mark Lemon, we may easily believe
that he did not contribute to his paper, and as during his early
friendship with Mr. Burnand he never hinted at writing for _Punch_ as an
outsider, the statement may be dismissed. Moreover, so fantastic is the
scene described that, if strictly accurate, it was most likely a
practical joke played off upon the egotistical old gentleman, whose
worst enemies never accused him of a sense of humour.

[49] "Fors," 1874 (p. 125).

CHAPTER XVIII.

_PUNC