DOI Heft:
July to December, 1853
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16612#0184
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI
173
PHOTOGRAPHIC “ GLIMPSES OP THE MOON.”
ropessor Phillips,
than whom Endy-
mion was not a more
fervent admirer of
the moon, has suc-
ceeded in inducing:
her, not merely to sit
for her portrait, hut
even to paint it.
When
“ His great bright eye
most silently
Up to the moon is cast,”
we may be sure that
“ Right graciously
She looketh down on him,”
since she allows him
to carry away so
many softened images
of her charms. Eor
other men she exists
only in apogee or in
perigee, but he _ pos-
sesses her also in ef-
figy, and can con-
template her at his
leisure, when her face
is “gone from the
gaze” of ordinary
mortals. Neverthe-
less he intends, with a liberality that does him honour, to make his fellow men partners of
his good fortune, and has therefore entrusted her relative, and namesake, the late eminent
printseller of Threadneedle Street, with the preparation of engravings from the aforesaid
photographs. Punch is happy to present the world with a prospectus of these engravings,
which are three in number. The first depicts her as she appeared on her “ conjunction with
Jupiter.” She is attired in her bridal dress, a robe of white aerophane, spangled with stars ;
Jupiter is just stepping forward to “ endow her with his ring; ” and Charles’s Wain waits
in the background to convey the happy couple to their destination. The second picture is
evidently meant to be a companion to the first, for in it she is represented on the wane, whilst
the celestial Bootes, who has been holding the horses’ heads, is once more putting the
ribbons into the hand of Charles.
In the last plate of the series, the “ expression of her features,” (as was said of the young
lady who wore a wreath of roses) is “ more thoughtful than before,” and we scarcely need
to be told by the accompanying letterpress, that she. has just been reading in the afternoon’s
Sun an account of the difficulties by which her beloved brother, the Emperor of China, is
surrounded.
Great hopes were at first entertained that she would allow a fourth plate to be executed,
displaying her as she appeared when “ the cow jumped over the moon; ” but she steadfastly
refuses her assent to this proposition, alleging, with much reason, that, whilst only the
learned few could trace in the legend of this saltatory performance an allusion to the mystical
fellowship of the Egyptian Apis with Isis, the lunar deity, the many would treat it as irreve-
rently as did the little dog who is said to have “ laughed at such sport; ” and that, although
the dish may on that occasion have run away with the spoon, the plate thus executed
would find no spoon spooney enough to elope with it.
PARSONS AND DOCTORS.
Many surgeons, doubtless, remarked an absurd letter from a clergyman which appeared the
other day in the Times, recommending charcoal—in combination with brandy and opium—as
a cure for cholera. One of them, dating his letter from Bloomsbury Square, has fortunately
written an answer to that communication, pointing out that the quantity of the last-named
drug prescribed by the parson would amount to 10 or 12 grains every half-hour; and of course
destroy the patient. This clergyman, no doubt, is a well-meaning person, but he should
confine himself to pointing the way to Heaven, recollecting that the opposite place is paved
with good intentions. Possibly he overstated the quantity of opium, by what may be called
a clerical error; a proper dose of it is well known to be beneficial in the complaint in question:
brandy is also found useful: and to these two ingredients of the mixture we should be
disposed to ascribe any favourable result of its administration. The third is probably inert;
otherwise it would be a convenient medicine, as anybody, in case of need, might munch
cinders.
Clergymen, in their anxiety to do good, are too often accustomed to add the treatment of
bodies to the cure of souls. In order to minister to patients as well as penitents, they
ought to possess the gift of healing, and that having ceased to be supematurally imparted,
they had better acquire it in the ordinary manner by attending the hospitals. Some add
homoeopathy to what the rubric prescribes in the Yisitation of the Sick, and by so
doing do the least harm that it is possible to do by empiricism; as the swallowers of
their globules at least die of their diseases: but we would advise even the homoeopathic
divines to stick to theological mysticism, and not deal in “ riddles ” which will generally
be “ affairs of death.”
POETRY EOR THE PEACE
CONFERENCE.
To preach a bully peace
"Would I don a suit of drab,
With a white cravat and a broad-brimmed hat,
And rely on simple gab ?
Oh no ! my friends, not I;
I’d buckle sword on thigh;
And also a pair of pistols wear,
And keep my powder dry.
Of small avail are words
Alone, with headstrong foes ;
But they go for much when they are such
As can be maintained by blows.
So, if policeman meet
With brawlers in the street,
At the word to be gone they won’t move on,
Till he his truncheon show’s.
With despots if we plead
By diplomatic notes.
Best speeds our pen when we show most men
In blue and scarlet coats.
Most regiments of the brave,
Most fleets upon the wave;
Let the style be bland, but strong the hand
That begs them to behave.
To charm vindictive rage
In warlike rival’s breast,
It is well to preach in the softest speech
If at peace we wish to rest.
But arm meanwhile !—enlist!
Draw gauntlet upon wrist;
And in friendly grasp he soon may clasp,
And shake your doubled fist.
A RAILWAY DOG.
The papers contained the other day an ac-
count of an eccentric dog, who, it seems, is in
the habit of frequenting the railways, and travel-
ling about the country from station to station
in company with different engine-drivers.
Surely this must be a very unhappy dog, who
is afflicted with a suicidal turn, and whose
instinct directs him to the railways as the
surest mode of terminating his existence.
We should like some philosopher to take the
matter in hand, and ascertain whether the dog is
a sad dog, a reckless dog, or a mad dog, that
is thus risking the shortening of his dog-days
by pursuing such a line of life, or rather such a
line of death, as a line of railway.
Eagles at a Discount.
France has lately superseded the jolly old
Gallic Cock, and mounted the Eagle on the dung-
hill of national vanity. Eagles have, however,
fallen terribly low in France, and they are being
publicly exhibited in every variety of form and
substance, from the Spread Eagle cut in paper,
at three sous, to the Eagle ready to seize on its
prey, carved in gilt wood, at one or two Napo-
leons. It is quite true that the Erench have
found their master not at all earlier than they
wanted him; and we can’t help recognising
the wisdom of substituting the Eagle for the
Rgalite humbug that was, for a time, permitted
to predominate.
The Tune Changed.
Eor the first day Richard Cobden was
supreme at the Peace Congress : the bagpipers
played nothing but Oh Richard, oh mon Roi!
On the second day, however, after old Admiral
Napier had fired off his speech, nothing was
heard but—Charlie is my Barling.
Yon. 25
0—2
173
PHOTOGRAPHIC “ GLIMPSES OP THE MOON.”
ropessor Phillips,
than whom Endy-
mion was not a more
fervent admirer of
the moon, has suc-
ceeded in inducing:
her, not merely to sit
for her portrait, hut
even to paint it.
When
“ His great bright eye
most silently
Up to the moon is cast,”
we may be sure that
“ Right graciously
She looketh down on him,”
since she allows him
to carry away so
many softened images
of her charms. Eor
other men she exists
only in apogee or in
perigee, but he _ pos-
sesses her also in ef-
figy, and can con-
template her at his
leisure, when her face
is “gone from the
gaze” of ordinary
mortals. Neverthe-
less he intends, with a liberality that does him honour, to make his fellow men partners of
his good fortune, and has therefore entrusted her relative, and namesake, the late eminent
printseller of Threadneedle Street, with the preparation of engravings from the aforesaid
photographs. Punch is happy to present the world with a prospectus of these engravings,
which are three in number. The first depicts her as she appeared on her “ conjunction with
Jupiter.” She is attired in her bridal dress, a robe of white aerophane, spangled with stars ;
Jupiter is just stepping forward to “ endow her with his ring; ” and Charles’s Wain waits
in the background to convey the happy couple to their destination. The second picture is
evidently meant to be a companion to the first, for in it she is represented on the wane, whilst
the celestial Bootes, who has been holding the horses’ heads, is once more putting the
ribbons into the hand of Charles.
In the last plate of the series, the “ expression of her features,” (as was said of the young
lady who wore a wreath of roses) is “ more thoughtful than before,” and we scarcely need
to be told by the accompanying letterpress, that she. has just been reading in the afternoon’s
Sun an account of the difficulties by which her beloved brother, the Emperor of China, is
surrounded.
Great hopes were at first entertained that she would allow a fourth plate to be executed,
displaying her as she appeared when “ the cow jumped over the moon; ” but she steadfastly
refuses her assent to this proposition, alleging, with much reason, that, whilst only the
learned few could trace in the legend of this saltatory performance an allusion to the mystical
fellowship of the Egyptian Apis with Isis, the lunar deity, the many would treat it as irreve-
rently as did the little dog who is said to have “ laughed at such sport; ” and that, although
the dish may on that occasion have run away with the spoon, the plate thus executed
would find no spoon spooney enough to elope with it.
PARSONS AND DOCTORS.
Many surgeons, doubtless, remarked an absurd letter from a clergyman which appeared the
other day in the Times, recommending charcoal—in combination with brandy and opium—as
a cure for cholera. One of them, dating his letter from Bloomsbury Square, has fortunately
written an answer to that communication, pointing out that the quantity of the last-named
drug prescribed by the parson would amount to 10 or 12 grains every half-hour; and of course
destroy the patient. This clergyman, no doubt, is a well-meaning person, but he should
confine himself to pointing the way to Heaven, recollecting that the opposite place is paved
with good intentions. Possibly he overstated the quantity of opium, by what may be called
a clerical error; a proper dose of it is well known to be beneficial in the complaint in question:
brandy is also found useful: and to these two ingredients of the mixture we should be
disposed to ascribe any favourable result of its administration. The third is probably inert;
otherwise it would be a convenient medicine, as anybody, in case of need, might munch
cinders.
Clergymen, in their anxiety to do good, are too often accustomed to add the treatment of
bodies to the cure of souls. In order to minister to patients as well as penitents, they
ought to possess the gift of healing, and that having ceased to be supematurally imparted,
they had better acquire it in the ordinary manner by attending the hospitals. Some add
homoeopathy to what the rubric prescribes in the Yisitation of the Sick, and by so
doing do the least harm that it is possible to do by empiricism; as the swallowers of
their globules at least die of their diseases: but we would advise even the homoeopathic
divines to stick to theological mysticism, and not deal in “ riddles ” which will generally
be “ affairs of death.”
POETRY EOR THE PEACE
CONFERENCE.
To preach a bully peace
"Would I don a suit of drab,
With a white cravat and a broad-brimmed hat,
And rely on simple gab ?
Oh no ! my friends, not I;
I’d buckle sword on thigh;
And also a pair of pistols wear,
And keep my powder dry.
Of small avail are words
Alone, with headstrong foes ;
But they go for much when they are such
As can be maintained by blows.
So, if policeman meet
With brawlers in the street,
At the word to be gone they won’t move on,
Till he his truncheon show’s.
With despots if we plead
By diplomatic notes.
Best speeds our pen when we show most men
In blue and scarlet coats.
Most regiments of the brave,
Most fleets upon the wave;
Let the style be bland, but strong the hand
That begs them to behave.
To charm vindictive rage
In warlike rival’s breast,
It is well to preach in the softest speech
If at peace we wish to rest.
But arm meanwhile !—enlist!
Draw gauntlet upon wrist;
And in friendly grasp he soon may clasp,
And shake your doubled fist.
A RAILWAY DOG.
The papers contained the other day an ac-
count of an eccentric dog, who, it seems, is in
the habit of frequenting the railways, and travel-
ling about the country from station to station
in company with different engine-drivers.
Surely this must be a very unhappy dog, who
is afflicted with a suicidal turn, and whose
instinct directs him to the railways as the
surest mode of terminating his existence.
We should like some philosopher to take the
matter in hand, and ascertain whether the dog is
a sad dog, a reckless dog, or a mad dog, that
is thus risking the shortening of his dog-days
by pursuing such a line of life, or rather such a
line of death, as a line of railway.
Eagles at a Discount.
France has lately superseded the jolly old
Gallic Cock, and mounted the Eagle on the dung-
hill of national vanity. Eagles have, however,
fallen terribly low in France, and they are being
publicly exhibited in every variety of form and
substance, from the Spread Eagle cut in paper,
at three sous, to the Eagle ready to seize on its
prey, carved in gilt wood, at one or two Napo-
leons. It is quite true that the Erench have
found their master not at all earlier than they
wanted him; and we can’t help recognising
the wisdom of substituting the Eagle for the
Rgalite humbug that was, for a time, permitted
to predominate.
The Tune Changed.
Eor the first day Richard Cobden was
supreme at the Peace Congress : the bagpipers
played nothing but Oh Richard, oh mon Roi!
On the second day, however, after old Admiral
Napier had fired off his speech, nothing was
heard but—Charlie is my Barling.
Yon. 25
0—2