Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 1, October 23, 1841 by Various
V >>
Various >> Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 1, October 23, 1841
C is the CORN-LAWS, that famish'd the poor;
D is the DEBT, that will famish them more.
Here, for the imaginative artist, is an opportunity! To paint the wholesale
wickedness and small villanies of the Corn-laws! What a contrast of scene
and character! Squalid hovels, and princely residences--purse-proud,
plethoric injustice, big and bloated with, its iniquitous gains, and gaunt,
famine-stricken multitudes! Then for the Debt--that hideous thing begotten
by war and corruption; what a tremendous moral lesson might be learned from
a nightly conning of the terrific theme!
We have neither poetic genius nor space of paper to go through the whole
of the alphabet; we merely throw out the above four lines--and were we not
assured that they are better lines, far more musical, than any to be found
in BULWER'S SIAMESE TWINS, we should blush much nearer scarlet than we
do--to give an idea of the utility and beautiful comprehensiveness of our
plan.
The great difficulty, however, will be to compress the subjects--so
multitudinous are they--within the thousand feet allowed by the architect.
To begin with the Wittenagemot, or meeting of the wise men, and to end
with portraits of Mr. Roebuck's ancestors--to say nothing of the fine
imaginative sketch of the Member for Bath tilting, in the mode of Quixote
with the steam-press of Printing-house-square--will require the most
extraordinary powers of condensation on the parts of the artists.
Nevertheless, if the undertaking be even creditably executed, it will be a
monument of national wisdom and national utility to unborn generations of
Members. What crowds of subjects press upon us! The _History of Bribery_
might make a sort of Parliamentary Rake's Progress, if we could but hit
upon the artist to portray its manifold beauties. _The Windsor Stables_
and _the Education of the Poor_ would form admirable companion-pictures,
in which the superiority of the horse over the human animal could be most
satisfactorily delineated--the quadruped having considerably more than
three times the amount voted to him for snug lodging, hay, beans, and
oats, that the English pauper obtained from Parliament for that manure of
the soil--as congregated piety at Exeter Hall denominates it--a Christian
education!
What a beautiful arabesque border might be conceived from a perusal of the
late Lord Castlereagh's speeches! We should here have Parliamentary
eloquence under a most fantastic yet captivating phase. Who, for instance,
but the artist to PUNCH could paint CASTLEREAGH'S figure of a smug,
contented, selfish traitor, the "crocodile with his hand in his breeches'
pocket?" Again, does not the reader recollect that extraordinary person
who, according to the North Cray Demosthenes, "turned his back _upon
himself_?" There would be a portrait!--one, too, presenting food for the
most "sweet and bitter melancholy" to the GRAHAMS and the STANLEYS. There
is also that immortal Parliamentary metaphor, emanating from the same
mysterious source,--"The _feature_ upon which the question _hinges_!" The
only man who could have properly painted this was the enthusiastic BLAKE,
who so successfully limned the ghost of a flea! These matters, however,
are to be considered as merely supplementary ornaments to great themes.
The grand subjects are to be sought for in _Hansard's Reports_, in
petitions against returns of members, in the evidence that comes out in
the committee-rooms, in the abstract principles of right and wrong, that
make members honest patriots, or that make them give the harlot "ay" and
"no," as dictated by the foul spirit gibbering in their breeches' pockets.
That we may have painted all these things, Mr. BARRY offers up one
thousand feet. Oh! Mr. B. can't you make it ten!
Q.
* * * * *
PUNCH's PENCILLINGS.--No. XV.
[Illustration: REFLECTION.
"FAREWELL, A LONG FAREWELL, TO ALL MY GREATNESS."--_King Henry VIII_.]
* * * * *
THE PHYSIOLOGY OF THE LONDON MEDICAL STUDENT.
4.--OF THE MANNER IN WHICH THE FIRST SEASON PASSES.
From the period of our last Chapter our friend commences to adopt the
attributes of the mature student. His notes are taken as before at each
lecture he attends, but the lectures are fewer, and the notes are never
fairly transcribed; at the same time they are interspersed with a larger
proportion of portraits of the lecturer, and other humorous conceits. He
proposes at lunch-time every day that he and his companions should "go the
odd man for a pot;" and the determination he had formed at his entry to
the school, of working the last session for all the prizes, and going up
to the Hall on the Thursday and the College on the Friday without
grinding, appears somewhat difficult of being carried into execution.
It is at this point of his studies that the student commences a steady
course of imaginary dissection: that is to say, he keeps a chimerical
account of extremities whose minute structure he has deeply investigated
(in his head), and received in return various sums of money from home for
the avowed purpose of paying for them. If he really has put his name down
for any heads and necks or pelvic viscera at the commencement of the
season, when he had imbibed and cherished some lunatic idea "that
dissection was the sheet-anchor of safety at the College," he becomes a
trafficker in human flesh, and disposes of them as quickly as he can to
any hard-working man who has his examination in perspective.
He now assumes a more independent air, and even ventures to chalk odd
figures on the black board in the theatre. He has been known, previously
to the lecture, to let down the skeleton that hangs by a balance weight
from the ceiling, and, inserting its thumb in the cavity of its nose, has
there secured it with a piece of thread, and then, placing a short pipe in
its jaws, has pulled it up again. His inventive faculties are likewise
shown by various diverting objects and allusions cut with his knife upon
the ledge before him in the lecture-room, whereon the new men rest their
note-books and the old ones go to sleep. In vain do the directors of the
school order the ledge to be coated with paint and sand mixed
together--nothing is proof against his knife; were it adamant he would cut
his name upon it. His favourite position at lecture is now the extremity
of the bench, where its horse-shoe form places him rather out of the range
of the lecturer's vision; and, ten to one, it is here that he has cut a
cribbage-board on the seat, at which he and his neighbour play during the
lecture on Surgery, concealing their game from common eyes by spreading a
mackintosh cape on the desk before them. His conversation also gradually
changes its tone, and instead of mildly inquiring of the porter, on his
entering the school of a morning, what is for the day's anatomical
demonstration, he talks of "the regular lark he had last night at the
Eagle, and how jolly screwed he got!"--a frank admission, which bespeaks
the candour of his disposition.
Careful statistics show us that it is about the end of November the new
man first makes the acquaintance of his uncle; and observant people have
remarked, as worthy of insertion in the Medical Almanack amongst the usual
phenomena of the calendar--"About this time dissecting cases and
tooth-instruments appear in the windows, and we may look for watches
towards the beginning of December." Although this is his first transaction
on his own account, yet his property has before ascended the spout, when
some unprincipled student, at the beginning of the season, picked his
pocket of a big silver lancet-case, which he had brought up with him from
the country; and having, pledged it at the nearest money-lender's, sent
him the duplicate in a polite note, and spent the money with some other
dishonest young men, in drinking their victim's health in his absence.
And, by the way, it is a general rule that most new men delight to carry
big lancet-cases, although they have about as much use for them as a
lecturer upon practice of physic has for top boots.
Thus gradually approaching step by step towards the perfection of his
state, the new man's first winter-session passes; and it is not unlikely
that, at the close of the course, he may enter to compete for the
anatomical prize, which he sometimes gets by stealth, cribbing his answers
from a tiny manual of knowledge, two inches by one-and-a-half in size,
which he hides under his blotting-paper. This triumph achieved, he devotes
the short period which intervenes before the commencement of the summer
botanical course to various hilarious pastimes; and as the watch and
dissecting-case are both gone, he writes the following despatch to his
governor--
LETTER No. II.--(_Copy._)
MY DEAR FATHER,--You will, I am sure, be delighted to learn that I have
gained the twenty-ninth honorary certificate for proficiency in anatomy
which you will allow is a very high number when I tell you that only
thirty are given. I have also the satisfaction of informing you that the
various professors have given me certificates of having attended their
lectures _very diligently_ during the past courses.
I work very hard, but I need not inform you that, with all my economy, I
am at some expense for good books and instruments. I have purchased
_Liston's Surgery_, Anthony Thompson's _Materia Medica_, Burns and
Merriman's _Midwifery_, Graham's _Chemistry_, Astley Cooper's
_Dislocations_, and Quain's _Anatomy_, all of which I have read carefully
through twice. I also pay a private demonstrator to go over the bones with
me of a night; and I have bought a skeleton at Alexander's--a great
bargain. This, when I "pass," I think of presenting to the museum of the
hospital, as I am under great obligations to the surgeons. I think a
ten-pound note willl clear my expenses, although I wish to enter to a
summer course of dissections, and take some lessons in practical chemistry
in the laboratories with Professor Carbon, but these I will endeavour to
pay for out of my own pocket. With my best regards to all at home, believe
me,
Your affectionate son,
JOSEPH MUFF.
As soon as the summer course begins, the Botanical Lectures commence with
it, and the polite Company of Apothecaries courteously request the
student's acceptance of a ticket of admission to the lectures, at their
garden at Chelsea. As these commence somewhere about eight in the morning,
of course he must get up in the middle of the night to be there; and
consequently he attends very often, of course. But the botanical
excursions that take place every Saturday from his own school are his
especial delight. He buys a candle-box to contain all the chickweed,
chamomiles, and dandelions he may collect, and slinging it over his
shoulder with his pocket-handkerchief, he starts off in company with the
Professor and his fellow-herbalists to Wandsworth Common, Battersea
Fields, Hampstead Heath, or any other favourite spot which the cockney
Flora embellishes with her offspring.
The conduct of medical students on botanical excursions generally appears
in various phases. Some real lovers of the study, pale men in spectacles,
who wear shoes and can walk for ever, collect every weed they drop upon,
to which they assign a most extraordinary name, and display it at their
lodgings upon cartridge paper, with penny pieces to keep the leaves in
their places as they dry. Others limit their collections to
stinging-nettles, which they slyly insert into their companions' pockets,
or long bulrushes, which they tuck under the collars of their coats; and
the remainder turn into the first house of public entertainment they
arrive at on emerging from the smoke of London to the rural districts, and
remain all day absorbed in the mysteries of ground billiards and
knock-'em-downs, their principal vegetable studies being confined to
lettuces, spring onions, and water-cresses. But all this is very
proper--we mean the botanical part of the story--for the knowledge of the
natural class and order of a buttercup must be of the greatest service to
a practitioner in after-life in treating a case of typhus fever or
ruptured blood-vessel. At some of the Continental Hospitals, the pupil's
time is wasted at the bedside of the patient, from which he can only get
practical information. How much better is the primrose-investigating
_curriculum_ of study observed at our own medical schools!
* * * * *
SOME THINGS TO WHICH THE IRISH WOULD NOT SWEAR.
MR. GROVE.--This insufferably ignorant, and, therefore, insolent
magisterial cur, who has recently made himself an object of unenviable
notoriety, by asserting that "the Irish would swear anything," has shown
himself to be as stupid as he is malignant. Would, for instance, the most
hard-mouthed Irishman in existence venture to swear that--
Mr. Grove is a gentleman; or that--
Sir Francis Burdett has brought honour to his grey hairs; or that--
Colonel Sibthorp has more brains than beard; or that--
Sir Robert Peel feels for anybody but himself; or that--
Peter Borthwick was listened to with attention; or that--
Sir Peter Laurie's wisdom cannot be estimated; or that--
Sir Edward George Erle Lytton Bulwer thinks very small beer of
himself; or that--
The Earl of Coventry carries a vast deal of sense under his hat; or
that--
Mr. Roebuck is the pet of the _Times_; or, in short, that--
The Tories are the best and most popular governors that England
ever had.
If "the Irish would swear" to the above, we confess they "would swear
anything."
* * * * *
COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS BEFORE THEM.
SIR JAMES CLARK is in daily attendance at the Palace. We suppose that he
is looking out for a new berth under Government.
* * * * *
HOSTILITIES IN PRIVATE LIFE.
We have just heard of an event which has shaken the peace of a highly
respectable house in St. Martin's Court, from the chimney-pots to the
coal-cellar. Mrs. Brown, the occupier of the first floor, happened, on
last Sunday, to borrow of Mrs. Smith, who lived a pair higher in the
world, a German silver teapot, on the occasion of her giving a small
twankey party to a few select friends. But though she availed herself of
Mrs. Smith's German-silver, to add respectability to her _soiree_, she
wholly overlooked Mrs. Smith, who was _not_ invited to partake of the
festivities. This was a slight that no woman of spirit could endure; and
though Mrs. Smith's teapot was German-silver, she resolved to let Mrs.
Brown see that she had herself some real Britannia _mettle_ in her
composition. Accordingly when the teapot was sent up the following morning
to Mrs. Smith's apartments, with Mrs. Brown's "compliments and thanks,"
Mrs. Smith discovered or affected to discover, a serious contusion on the
lid of the article, and despatched it by her own servant back to Mrs.
Brown, accompanied by the subjoined note:--
"Mrs. Smith's compliments to Mrs. Brown, begs to return the
teapott to the latter--in consequence of the ill-usage it has
received in her hands."
Mrs. Brown, being a woman who piques herself upon her talent at epistolary
writing, immediately replied in the following terms:--
"Mrs. Brown's compliments to Mrs. Smith, begs to say that her
paltry teapot received no ill usage from Mrs. Brown.--Mrs. B. will
thank Mrs. S. not to put two _t_'s at the end of _teapot_ in
future."
This note and the teapot were forthwith sent upstairs to Mrs. Smith, whose
indignation being very naturally roused, she again returned the battered
affair, with this spirited missive:--
"Mrs. Smith begs to inform Mrs. Brown, that she despises her
insinuations, and to say, that she will put as many _t_'s as she
pleases in her _teapot_.
"P.S.--Mrs. S. expects to be paid 10s. for the injured article."
Again the teapot was sent upstairs, with the following reply from Mrs.
Brown:--
"Mrs. Brown thinks Mrs. Smith a low creature.
"P.S.--Mrs. B. won't pay a farthing."
The correspondence terminated here, the German-silver teapot remaining in
_statu quo_ on the lobby window, between the territories of the hostile
powers; and there it might have remained until the present moment, if Mrs.
Brown had not declared, in an audible voice, at the foot of the stairs,
that Mrs. Smith was acting under the influence of gin, which reaching the
ears of the calumniated lady, she rushed down to the landing-place, and
seizing the teapot, discharged it at Mrs. Brown's head, which it
fortunately missed, but totally annihilated a plaster figure of Napoleon,
which stood in the hall, and materially damaged its own spout. Mrs. Brown,
being wholly unsupported at the time, retired hastily within the defences
of her own apartments, which Mrs. Smith cannonaded vigorously for upwards
of ten minutes with a broom handle; and there is every reason to believe
she would shortly have effected a practicable breach, if a reinforcement
from the kitchen had not arrived to aid the besieged, and forced the
assailant back to her second-floor entrenchments. Mrs. Smith then demanded
a truce until evening, which was granted by Mrs. Brown; notwithstanding
which the former lady was detected, in defiance of this arrangement,
endeavouring to _blow up_ Mrs. Brown through the keyhole.
There is no telling how this unhappy difference will terminate; for though
at present matters appear tolerably quiet, we know not (as in the case of
the Canadas) at what moment we may have to inform our readers that
[Illustration: THE BORDERS ARE IN A FLAME.]
* * * * *
GEOLOGY OF SOCIETY.
SECTION II.
We last week described the different strata of society comprehended in the
INFERIOR SERIES, and the lower portion of the _Clapham Group_. We now beg
to call the attention of our readers to a most important division in the
next great formation--which has been termed the TRANSITION CLASS--because
the individuals composing it are in a gradual state of elevation, and have
a tendency to mix with the superior strata. By referring to the scale
which we gave in our first section, it will be seen that the lowest layer
in this class is formed by the people who keep shops and one-horse
"shays," and go to Ramsgate for three weeks in the dog-days. They all
exhibit evidences of having been thrown up from a low to a high level. The
elevating causes are numerous, but the most remarkable are those which
arise from the action of unexpected legacies. Lotteries were formerly the
cause of remarkable elevations; and speculation in the funds may be still
considered as amongst the elevating causes, though their effect is
frequently to cause a sudden sinking. Lying immediately above the "shop
and shay" people, we find the old substantial merchant, who every day
precisely as the clock strikes ten is in the act of hanging up his hat in
his little back counting-house in Fenchurch-street. His private house,
however, is at Brixton-hill, where the gentility of the family is
supported by his wife, two daughters, a piano, and a servant in livery.
The best and finest specimens of this strata are susceptible of a slight
polish; they are found very useful in the construction of joint stock
banks, railroads, and other speculations where a good foundation is
required. We now come to the _Russell-square group_, which comprehends all
those people who "live private," and aim at being thought fashionable and
independent. Many individuals of this group are nevertheless supposed by
many to be privately connected with some trading concern in the City. It
is a distinguishing characteristic of the second layer in this group to
have a tendency to give dinners to the superior series, while the
specimens of the upper stratum are always found in close proximity to a
carriage. Family descent, which is a marked peculiarity of the SUPERIOR
CLASS, is rarely to be met with in the _Russell-square group_. The fossil
animals which exist in this group are not numerous: they are for the most
part decayed barristers and superannuated doctors. Of the ST. JAMES'S
SERIES it is sufficient to say that it consists of four strata, of which
the superior specimens are usually found attached to coronets. Most of the
precious stones, as diamonds, rubies, emeralds, are also to be found in
this layer. The materials of which it is composed are various, and appear
originally to have belonged to the inferior classes; and the only use to
which it can be applied is in the construction of _peers_. Throughout all
the classes there occur what are called _veins_, containing diverse
substances. The _larking vein_ is extremely abundant in the superior
classes--it is rich in brass knockers, bell handles, and policemen's
rattles; this vein descends through all the lower strata, the specimens in
each differing according to the situation in which they are found; the
middle classes being generally discovered deposited in the Coal-hole
Tavern or the Cider-cellars, while the individuals of the very inferior
order are usually discovered in gin-shops and low pot-houses, and not
unfrequently
[Illustration: EMBEDDED IN QUARTS(Z).]
* * * * *
THE WAPPING DELUGE.
Father Thames, not content with his customary course, has been "swelling
it" in the course of the week, through some of the streets of the
metropolis. As if to inculcate temperance, he walked himself down into
public-house cellars, filling all the empty casks with water, and
adulterating all the beer and spirits that came in his way; turning also
every body's fixed into floating capital. Half empty butts, whose place
was below, came sailing up into the bar through the ceiling of the cellar;
saucepans were elevated from beneath the dresser to the dresser itself;
while cups were made "to pop off the hooks" with surprising rapidity.
But the greatest consternation that prevailed was among the _rats_,
particularly those in the neighbourhood of Downing-street, who were driven
out of the sewers they inhabit with astounding violence.
The dairies on the banks of the Thames were obliged to lay aside their
customary practice of inundating the milk; for such a "meeting of the
waters" as would otherwise have ensued must have proved rather too much,
even for the regular customers.
* * * * *
SAVORY CON. BY COX.
Why is it impossible for a watch that indicates the smaller divisions of
time ever to be new?--Because it must always be a second-hand one.
* * * * *
PUNCH'S INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE.--No. V.
NATURAL HISTORY (_Continued_).
THE OPERA-DANCER (_H. capernicus_--CERITOE).
So decidedly does this animal belong to the Bimana order of beings, that
to his two legs he is indebted for existence. Most of his fellow bipeds
live by the work of their hands, except indeed the feathered and tailor
tribes, who live by their bills; but from his thighs, calves, ancles, and
toes, does the opera-dancer derive subsistence for the less important
portions of his anatomy.
_Physiology._--The body, face, and arms of the opera-dancer present no
peculiarities above the rest of his species; and it is to his lower
extremities alone that we must look for distinguishing features. As our
researches extend downwards from head to foot, the first thing that
strikes us is a protuberance of the ante-occipital membranes, so great as
to present a back view that describes two sides of a scalene triangle, the
apex of which projects posteriorly nearly half way down the figure. That a
due equilibrium may be preserved in this difficult position (technically
called "the first"), the toes are turned out so as to form a right angle
with the lower leg. Thus, in walking, this curious being presents a mass
of animated straight lines that have an equal variety of inclination to a
bundle of rods carelessly tied up, or to Signor Paganini when afflicted
with the lumbago.
_Habits._--The habits of the opera-dancer vary according as we see him in
public or in private life. On the stage he is all spangles and activity;
off the stage, seediness and decrepitude are his chief characteristics. It
is usual for him to enter upon his public career with a tremendous bound
and a hat and feathers. After standing upon one toe, he raises its fellow
up to a line with his nose, and turns round until the applause comes, even
if that be delayed for several minutes. He then cuts six, and shuffles up
to a female of his species, who being his sweetheart (in the ballet), has
been looking savage envy at him and spiteful indignation at the audience
on account of the applause, which ought to have been reserved for her own
capering--to come. When it does, she throws up her arms and steps upon
tiptoe about three paces, looking exactly like a crane with a sore heel.
Making her legs into a pair of compasses, she describes a circle in the
air with one great toe upon a pivot formed with the other; then bending
down so that her very short petticoat makes a "cheese" upon the ground,
spreads out both arms to the _roues_ in the stalls, who understand the
signal, and cry "_Brava! brava!!_" Rising, she turns her back to display
her gauze _jupe elastique_, which is always exceedingly _bouffante_:
expectorating upon the stage as she retires. She thus makes way for her
lover, who, being her professional rival, she invariably detests.