Merrily danced the Quaker Bright, And merrily danced that Quaker, When he heard that Kars was in hopeless plight, And Mouravieff meant to take her. He said he knew it was wrong to fight, He'd help nor Devil nor Baker, But to see that the battle was going right, O! merrily danced the Quaker. [Footnote 10: _Punch_ welcomed Tennyson's famous poem, which originally appeared in the _Examiner_, but could not agree with the view expressed in "Maud" that war is better than peace, though he held that it might be the only way--as at the moment--to secure it.] [Illustration: THE BRITISH LION SMELLS A RAT] [Sidenote: _Paying the Bill_] The article in which we read that "Wholesale slaughter and devastation, when you are driven to it, is the only economy of slaughter and devastation," is a definitely frank espousal of the doctrine of "frightfulness." Cobden and Bright, "our calico friends," are mercilessly assailed in every number; Cobden in particular for his pamphlet, "What next, and next?" and for his servility to America. Peace came at the end of March, 1856, with its aftermath of criticism, dissatisfaction, discontent with the Peace terms, and fierce comments on generals and contractors, mismanagement and neglect of men and horses, and on the failure of the navy. Already the Sebastopol Blue Book had appeared--a painful document with "delay," "want of----" and "unaccountable neglect" appearing on every page. The discussion of the Peace Treaty in Parliament prompts _Punch_ to mitigated "joy and satisfaction" over what he calls "Walewski's Treaty of Peace"; to praise Lord Malmesbury--no favourite of his; to describe Lord Aberdeen as crawling out "like an old slug, now that the war-storm is over," to express his general approbation, tempered by his "preposterous love of Russia"; and to condemn Disraeli, the leader of the Opposition, for his ignominious silence in the Commons. The speeches by Lord Panmure in the Lords, and Lord Palmerston in the Commons, in moving the votes of thanks to our soldiers, sailors, marines, militia, and Foreign Legion, and those of the Leaders of the Opposition, who seconded them, were appropriate, but fell short of the merits of the theme. "Certain figures, given on official authority, tell the whole story of the two years' war with grim succinctness. We have lost 22,467 men, of whom but 3,532 died in battle or from wounds." Nothing is new: in emphasizing the demand that Russia must be made to pay the bill, and declaring that her attempts to evade the Treaty must be rigorously dealt with, _Punch_ strikes a note all too familiar in the last two years and a half. His general attitude is summed up in the lines on "Rejoicings for Peace":-- Thank Heaven the War is ended! That is the general voice, But let us feign no splendid Endeavours to rejoice. To cease from lamentation We may contrive--but--pooh! Can't rise to exultation, And cock-a-doodle-doo!