ese
men that in all these hundreds and thousands of skits--satires going by
their very nature into personal motives and perhaps into private
actions--that the lapses and the mistakes have been nearly as rare as
great auks' eggs? Mr. Gladstone had good reason to say, as he did one
day at dinner, that "in his early days, when an artist was engaged to
produce political satires, he nearly always descended to gross personal
caricature, and sometimes to indecency. To-day he noted in the humorous
press (speaking more particularly of _Punch_) a total absence of
vulgarity and a fairer treatment, which made this department of warfare
always pleasing"--which is all very true if we admit that the function
of ridicule and banter as political weapons is to be merely "pleasing."
At any rate, if it be so, it is the knell of all great satire--with the
corresponding effect of making the more caustic and grosser sides of men
like Swift impossible. Yet, on the other hand, so late as 1860,
according to Sir Theodore Martin, _Punch_ more than any other paper
reflected the national feeling in such matters as our naval defences; so
that in its support of Lord Lyndhurst in his patriotic agitation it
greatly assisted in strengthening the hands of the Government.

It is interesting, when you know your _Punch_ as you should your Bible,
to lean back in your chair and recall the most striking and important
among the three thousand designs, more or less, that stand out as
landmarks in _Punch's_ pages.

The first, of course, for association's sake, is that pageful of
"Foreign Affairs" which introduced Leech to _Punch's_ readers. It
appeared in the fourth number, on August 7th, 1841. The "Foreign
Affairs" consist chiefly of groups of foreign refugees to be seen at
that time, and even now in some measure, in the vicinity of Soho and
Leicester Square--the political scum of Paris ("Parisites," may they not
be called?) and of Berlin. The scroll bearing the title in the middle of
the page is fully signed, with the addition of the artist's sign-manual,
which was afterwards to become known throughout the whole artistic and
laughter-loving world--a leech wriggling in a water-bottle. This debut
did little justice to Percival Leigh's introduction, for the block was
delivered so late that, containing as it did a considerable amount of
work, it made it impossible for the engraver to finish it in time for
the ordinary publishing hour. The usual means of publication