DOI issue:
July to December, 1851
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16608#0083
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
71
PARTICULAR REASONS FOR PULLING DOWN THE
CRYSTAL PALACE.
hat having accidentally produced a
% handsome building—which any metro-
polis might be proud of—is no reason
at all why it should be preserved.
That London, in fact, has so many
handsome buildings that an additional
one is not in the least wanted.
That the building, beautiful as it is,
is a perpetual eyesore in the eyes of
Belgravia, and blocks up the view
from the garret-windows of the houses
opposite.
That it would be perfectly ridicu-
lous to maintain a building which only
took six months building, when there
are the Houses of Parliament which
are not finished yet, after the lapse of
as many years.
That the building, if retained, would
only cost £140,000; which would be a downright absurdity by the side
of the Houses of Parliament, which have cost upwards of £2,000,000.
That, above all, it will be a perpetual source of temptation to the little
boys to break the windows.
A PEETTY LITTLE PICTUEE FOE PEETTY LITTLE
PEOTESTANTS.
{To be Admired some Twenty Tears hence.)
Suppose we shift on the slides of the Magic Lantern of Time, and look
forward some twenty years hence. What do we see pictured before us ?
We see a view of a magnificent Cathedral. It is embellished with
all the resources of Art. Sculptured Saints are pointing their marble
fingers in hundreds to heaven. Its mighty dome towers over the
crouching city, and spreads far and wide a long black shade, that seems
to wither up all the churches that surround it. Their lofty spires look
shrinking to the ground with fear, as if they felt themselves overawed
in the presence of such a monster rival. The interior is no less worthy
of admiration. The eyes ache to look at it. It is one blaze of gold.
The altar shines like the front of a silversmith's shop, beautifully illu-
minated. In front of it is drawn out a long grenadier army of candles
—all burning to do honour to the brilliant scene. What is the name of
this magnificent Cathedral, that is pictured in such gorgeous colours
before us ? It is St. Peter's, erected most appropriately in the centre
of the old Smithfield Market, and built by express command of His
Sacred Highness Pope Pius the Ninth! By the side of it poor
St. Paul's lifts its head no higher than a toadstool. It is crushed—
reduced to a mere oyster-grotto—which every one passes, and not a
soul remembers.
The next slide shows us a new view of this Cathedral. The people
begin to feel the tyranny of its oppression. The City longs to cast it off.
It seems to press with a heavy weight on its lungs, that prevents its
breathing freely. You see a tumult takes place. The populace refuses
to bow any longer to the Cardinal's hat. There is confusion—smoke—
fire—bloodshed; and we pass on to the next slide.
This shows us the Cathedral surrounded with French troops—the
interior is likewise filled with them. Church service is performed at
the point of the bayonet. The altar is supported on French cannon,
ready charged. Cardinal Wiseman goes through High Mass with a
lighted match in his hand. Infidels are immediately converted by being
shot. Conversions take place every day in hundreds and thousands,
till the Holy See is turned into a Sea of Blood. But at last the truths
of Popery are triumphant. St. Peter's is as great in London as St.
Peter's at Rome—thanks to that new Army of Martyrs—the Army of
the French Repubkc.
Here the slides stop, and all beyond it is darkness. But do the
slides we have already seen, portray the truth, or are they only
pictures of our own imagination ? Time, twenty years hence, will best
show. For ourselves, we cannot help fearing that if we have a Pope's
Cathedral in London, the Pope's soldiers must soon follow. If the
Romish Church cannot maintain its ground in Rome, without the
aid of French guns, why should it do any better in London ? If a soul
cannot be cured in Italy without the assistance of French saltpetre,
how can Pius the Ninth cure English souls without calling in for us
the same remedy ? In fact, this mixture of Romish piety and French
gunpowder seems to us so highly probable, that we suggest that the
new Cathedral, instead of being simply called St. Peter's, should, out
of compliment to one of its elements, allow itself to be christened
St. Salt Petre's '.—There is abundance of food for hope, however,
in this state of things ; for the Church that has a Powder Mill for its
foundation, is sure at some future day to blow up.
THE WINTER GARDEN IN PARIS.
Lord Campbell, anxious to know how the Winter Garden
" worked" in Paris, sent over a Commissioner expressly to make
inquiries. The following i3 his report :
" I have visited the Jardin d'Hiver at Paris. I was prepared to see
the most terrible results of so false a system, but the reality has far
exceeded my most sanguine expectations. I have hardly recovered
from the effect of it yet.
" All the visitors are Invalids. Infatuated mortals! The visit,
instead of doing them good, only makes them worse.
"You see nothing but pale faces ; you hear nothing but ccughs, and
sounds of pain. The combination is anything but agreeable.
" The debilitating effects are so well knowrn, that young ladies are
forbidden by their parents to attend the Garden, under any pretence
whatever.
" Physicians are always in attendance to pay attention to cases of
extreme exhaustion. Two Physicians have already made their fortune.
"There is a small Infirmary attached to the Garden for the reception
of urgent cases.
"The Bills of Mortality have increased fearfully at Paris since the
establishment of the Jardin d'Biver.
" A person who visits it more than once never escapes paying the
penalty of death for his rashness.
" There is not the slightest doubt that the establishment of a
Winter Garden in London would be attended with precisely the same
penalty.
"The above are all the facts I have been able to accumulate, as
really I had not the courage to collect more information, having
already visited the deadly piace six times.
" Your Honoured Commissioner,
" (Signed) Henry Stretcher, M.D."
WONDERS OF THE REFRESHMENT ROOM.
We are surprised at the apathy hitherto shown by the critics to the
wonderful efforts of art, which have been met with in the Refreshment
Room since the opening of the Exhibition. Our attention was, on a
recent visit, particularly directed to a section of a ham sandwich, con-
taining a small deposit of ham, so beautifully attenuated as to be worthy
of weighing by the machine capable of appreciating the weight of a
millionth part of a scruple. We have also met, occasionally, with an
object—not very rare in the metropolis, but still, in its way, curious—
namely, a lukewarm ice. Some electrical experiments may also have
been met with, occasionally, on the part of a waiter, who has now and
then exhibited a very shocking article very highly charged. These
experiments have occasionally given rise to a gratuitous lecture from
a waiter desirous of enlightening the public, but the result has not
always been as satisfactory as might have been desired.
Moral Reflection on France.
We see that Lotteries are tolerated again in France—but the greatest
Lottery of all is decidedly the Government itself. We are afraid this
is a Lottery that is full of so many turns and strange revolutions, that
it will take years to alter it, much less suppress it. Every statesman
plays at it in the hope of gaining the Grand Prize. For instance, who
can tell what may turn up next year ? In the meantime, Louis
Napoleon is buying up as many tickets in the great Lottery as he can.
great rival to prince albert.
The clever performer at the Hippodrome, who ascends on the globe
up an inclined plane of fifty feet, and then goes down again, has been
described as " a Great Rival to Prince Albert—for he moves in the
very highest circles, and every day of his life walks on the Slopes."
A Refreshing Conundrum.
Why do young misses, and boarding-school young ladies, at the
Exhibition, refuse to lunch at any other refreshment-stall than the one
in the Transept ?
Because they like a " Young-husband," and object to having
" Masters."
the best man to settle the minutes.
As Mr. Brotherton has his eye generally upon the clock, we should
say he would be the best man in the House " to settle the minutes."
Movements of the Aristocracy.—Lord Arundel has gone down
to Bishopstow (Bishop's-toei.
71
PARTICULAR REASONS FOR PULLING DOWN THE
CRYSTAL PALACE.
hat having accidentally produced a
% handsome building—which any metro-
polis might be proud of—is no reason
at all why it should be preserved.
That London, in fact, has so many
handsome buildings that an additional
one is not in the least wanted.
That the building, beautiful as it is,
is a perpetual eyesore in the eyes of
Belgravia, and blocks up the view
from the garret-windows of the houses
opposite.
That it would be perfectly ridicu-
lous to maintain a building which only
took six months building, when there
are the Houses of Parliament which
are not finished yet, after the lapse of
as many years.
That the building, if retained, would
only cost £140,000; which would be a downright absurdity by the side
of the Houses of Parliament, which have cost upwards of £2,000,000.
That, above all, it will be a perpetual source of temptation to the little
boys to break the windows.
A PEETTY LITTLE PICTUEE FOE PEETTY LITTLE
PEOTESTANTS.
{To be Admired some Twenty Tears hence.)
Suppose we shift on the slides of the Magic Lantern of Time, and look
forward some twenty years hence. What do we see pictured before us ?
We see a view of a magnificent Cathedral. It is embellished with
all the resources of Art. Sculptured Saints are pointing their marble
fingers in hundreds to heaven. Its mighty dome towers over the
crouching city, and spreads far and wide a long black shade, that seems
to wither up all the churches that surround it. Their lofty spires look
shrinking to the ground with fear, as if they felt themselves overawed
in the presence of such a monster rival. The interior is no less worthy
of admiration. The eyes ache to look at it. It is one blaze of gold.
The altar shines like the front of a silversmith's shop, beautifully illu-
minated. In front of it is drawn out a long grenadier army of candles
—all burning to do honour to the brilliant scene. What is the name of
this magnificent Cathedral, that is pictured in such gorgeous colours
before us ? It is St. Peter's, erected most appropriately in the centre
of the old Smithfield Market, and built by express command of His
Sacred Highness Pope Pius the Ninth! By the side of it poor
St. Paul's lifts its head no higher than a toadstool. It is crushed—
reduced to a mere oyster-grotto—which every one passes, and not a
soul remembers.
The next slide shows us a new view of this Cathedral. The people
begin to feel the tyranny of its oppression. The City longs to cast it off.
It seems to press with a heavy weight on its lungs, that prevents its
breathing freely. You see a tumult takes place. The populace refuses
to bow any longer to the Cardinal's hat. There is confusion—smoke—
fire—bloodshed; and we pass on to the next slide.
This shows us the Cathedral surrounded with French troops—the
interior is likewise filled with them. Church service is performed at
the point of the bayonet. The altar is supported on French cannon,
ready charged. Cardinal Wiseman goes through High Mass with a
lighted match in his hand. Infidels are immediately converted by being
shot. Conversions take place every day in hundreds and thousands,
till the Holy See is turned into a Sea of Blood. But at last the truths
of Popery are triumphant. St. Peter's is as great in London as St.
Peter's at Rome—thanks to that new Army of Martyrs—the Army of
the French Repubkc.
Here the slides stop, and all beyond it is darkness. But do the
slides we have already seen, portray the truth, or are they only
pictures of our own imagination ? Time, twenty years hence, will best
show. For ourselves, we cannot help fearing that if we have a Pope's
Cathedral in London, the Pope's soldiers must soon follow. If the
Romish Church cannot maintain its ground in Rome, without the
aid of French guns, why should it do any better in London ? If a soul
cannot be cured in Italy without the assistance of French saltpetre,
how can Pius the Ninth cure English souls without calling in for us
the same remedy ? In fact, this mixture of Romish piety and French
gunpowder seems to us so highly probable, that we suggest that the
new Cathedral, instead of being simply called St. Peter's, should, out
of compliment to one of its elements, allow itself to be christened
St. Salt Petre's '.—There is abundance of food for hope, however,
in this state of things ; for the Church that has a Powder Mill for its
foundation, is sure at some future day to blow up.
THE WINTER GARDEN IN PARIS.
Lord Campbell, anxious to know how the Winter Garden
" worked" in Paris, sent over a Commissioner expressly to make
inquiries. The following i3 his report :
" I have visited the Jardin d'Hiver at Paris. I was prepared to see
the most terrible results of so false a system, but the reality has far
exceeded my most sanguine expectations. I have hardly recovered
from the effect of it yet.
" All the visitors are Invalids. Infatuated mortals! The visit,
instead of doing them good, only makes them worse.
"You see nothing but pale faces ; you hear nothing but ccughs, and
sounds of pain. The combination is anything but agreeable.
" The debilitating effects are so well knowrn, that young ladies are
forbidden by their parents to attend the Garden, under any pretence
whatever.
" Physicians are always in attendance to pay attention to cases of
extreme exhaustion. Two Physicians have already made their fortune.
"There is a small Infirmary attached to the Garden for the reception
of urgent cases.
"The Bills of Mortality have increased fearfully at Paris since the
establishment of the Jardin d'Biver.
" A person who visits it more than once never escapes paying the
penalty of death for his rashness.
" There is not the slightest doubt that the establishment of a
Winter Garden in London would be attended with precisely the same
penalty.
"The above are all the facts I have been able to accumulate, as
really I had not the courage to collect more information, having
already visited the deadly piace six times.
" Your Honoured Commissioner,
" (Signed) Henry Stretcher, M.D."
WONDERS OF THE REFRESHMENT ROOM.
We are surprised at the apathy hitherto shown by the critics to the
wonderful efforts of art, which have been met with in the Refreshment
Room since the opening of the Exhibition. Our attention was, on a
recent visit, particularly directed to a section of a ham sandwich, con-
taining a small deposit of ham, so beautifully attenuated as to be worthy
of weighing by the machine capable of appreciating the weight of a
millionth part of a scruple. We have also met, occasionally, with an
object—not very rare in the metropolis, but still, in its way, curious—
namely, a lukewarm ice. Some electrical experiments may also have
been met with, occasionally, on the part of a waiter, who has now and
then exhibited a very shocking article very highly charged. These
experiments have occasionally given rise to a gratuitous lecture from
a waiter desirous of enlightening the public, but the result has not
always been as satisfactory as might have been desired.
Moral Reflection on France.
We see that Lotteries are tolerated again in France—but the greatest
Lottery of all is decidedly the Government itself. We are afraid this
is a Lottery that is full of so many turns and strange revolutions, that
it will take years to alter it, much less suppress it. Every statesman
plays at it in the hope of gaining the Grand Prize. For instance, who
can tell what may turn up next year ? In the meantime, Louis
Napoleon is buying up as many tickets in the great Lottery as he can.
great rival to prince albert.
The clever performer at the Hippodrome, who ascends on the globe
up an inclined plane of fifty feet, and then goes down again, has been
described as " a Great Rival to Prince Albert—for he moves in the
very highest circles, and every day of his life walks on the Slopes."
A Refreshing Conundrum.
Why do young misses, and boarding-school young ladies, at the
Exhibition, refuse to lunch at any other refreshment-stall than the one
in the Transept ?
Because they like a " Young-husband," and object to having
" Masters."
the best man to settle the minutes.
As Mr. Brotherton has his eye generally upon the clock, we should
say he would be the best man in the House " to settle the minutes."
Movements of the Aristocracy.—Lord Arundel has gone down
to Bishopstow (Bishop's-toei.