Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 159, September 22, 1920Various
General
Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 159, September 22, 1920
Various
English wit and humor -- Periodicals
By means of these royal blocks I was brought up to a sound historical
sense based on religion and morality. At the age of seven I could
and did boast that I knew the innermost souls of all the monarchs
of England. I could say their dates by heart, often doing so during
sermon time on Sundays, with a grace and ease that only lifelong
acquaintance with royalty could have bred. I was even able to triumph
through that tricky period between the death of EDWARD III. and the
accession of ELIZABETH. I wonder if the late Lord ACTON was as learned
at that age: I am sure he could not say his dates backwards. I could.
It has always surprised those who have endeavoured to teach me
history that my youthful brain should be so strongly grounded in
the historical tradition of over half a century ago. Yet all the
historians of modern England could not shake me in my faith. To me
QUEEN VICTORIA was no "panting little German widow," as our latest
searcher after truth has affirmed, but the august lady who listened
entranced to the beautiful poems of Lord TENNYSON and invented
electricity and the tricycle. In consequence I was considered a
counter-revolutionary, if not bourgeois. My essays were deemed
dangerously reactionary. At Oxford I once found my tutor burning one.
This shows the value the authorities attach to my work. It is too
dangerous to live; it is burnt.
I venture to think, however, that my work, based as it is on the
most respectable principles, will survive long after my tutors have
subsided into a permanent state of death in life. Like SHAKSPEARE and
the present Government I am for all time.
It is easy to see how I came to acquire this stability of thought,
owing as I do my early training to the kings and queens of England,
who are nothing if not stable. They are my acknowledged guardians and
to them I turn in all difficulties. Only a year ago they came to my
aid in a most awkward predicament. It was my lot to fill up army
forms; of what variety I cannot remember save that they were of a
jaundicy colour and connected with the men's demobilisation. On these
documents I was expected to enter, besides the usual details as to
religion and connubial felicity, the character of each man in a
single word. I at once marshalled my wooden royalties before me
in chronological order and proceeded to deal with the squadron in
rotation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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