DOI issue:
October 25, 1856
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16618#0170
162 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [October 25, 1856.
Hooray! Hooray! 'Ere's a Johnny with his Calf failed down.'
A ROD FOR RAPHAEL."
The brilliant success of Mr. Punch in the fields of Astrology has, he
regrets to see, cast a sickly shadow over all the previom occupants of
that do.uain. Very helplessly, very stupidly, da they all come out in
their Almanacs this October. They are timid, and they protest, and
they evade, and there is in them all a ludic ous apprehension of the
corking-pin with which Mr. Punch is likely to he down upon them.
They will commit themselves to very little, and they let out their
p -ophecies furtively, and then walk off hastily, just as their accomplices,
the thieves in the street, drop their plunder, and bolt up courts, when
a detective rounds the corner.
There is one exception, however, to which Mr. Fundi will presently
advert. His old victim, the unhappy Raphael—whose Almanac is
appropriately published in Newgate Street, sub mcenibtts altis—
appears as usual with his jaundiced coper, and his hieroglyphic from a
twelfth-night charac er-sheet; but, alas, how changed from the Raphael
of a idacious prediction and plausible nonsense of other days before he
had the misfortune to encounter the baton of Mr. Punch. Like the
Great Serpent, to be bettered, when the fulness of time comes on, by
the hammer of Toor,—so says Scandinavian prophesy—he ''faintly
crawls and emits insalubrious odour." His stars a> e all in a muddle,
they " afflict" one another, and " ru^h to combustion " like tipsy
Vauxhall quadrillers lighting their cgars in the concluding promenade,
Raphael's "fulfilments" of his auguries for the present year are
sad—very sad. Contrast th.m with the literal precision with which
Mr. Punch's were expounded, and then say whether the s'ara favour
the Walworth quack or the Fleet Street sage. Mr. Punch fo.-etold
every public event of the preceding year, bu;'. Raphael—what, has he
told? See here. Raphael said that in October, 1855, "Britain
would endeavour to hold the balance of power in Europe," and he
" fulfils " with a bit of a speech from some nameless M.P. who mentions
that "V. aud N. entwined with one laurel, means that England and
France are one army !" In December, "some bright stars in science
and literature dro >p," and the fulfilment is " the poet Montgomery,
(Raphabl, ill-read, means Robert, and not the poet) Lobd Truro,
Thomas Cubitt, and Colonel Sib thorp, depart this life." " Murders
occur," in December, and the "fulfilment" is that in that month a
coroner's jury fiuds a verdict against Palmar. But Palmer had no
chance, it appea s, for Raphael, prophesying after the fac% gives the
inurde er's destiny. He has not the date of birth, so takes the date
when Palmer " was placed in the dock." " The Sun was Loid of
the Ascencanf, was a- houce Nj. 10, afflicted by the eccentric Uranus,
which orb signified the prosecution, they both beiDg close to the
violent fixed star Caput Algol, or the Head of Medusa, a signification
notorious to professors of astral science indicative of death by
hanging." (We preserve Raphael's grammar).
Apropos of Palmes Raphael on Dove is still more logical and
delightful. He had Dove's nativity, so could read his destiny.
According to the stars, Dove's being hanged was quite certain;
"Venus," "Ptolemy," "quartiles," and "conjunctions," all show it,.
But, if Dove, instead of going to an astrologer of no merit, Harrison
of Leed<% had been to " a talented and judicious professor of the science,
he would doubtless have been saved from the fearful consequences of
the awful crime of which he had been found guilty." That is, Dove
was destined to be hanged, but Raphael would, if consulted, have
saved him from hanging! Professional rivalry is proverbial, but that
an astrologer, in order to discomfit another, should advertise that he
can alter fate, is rather strong. We would not stand this, were we
Harrison. If he does not come to town a.,d kick Raphael, he has
no pluck.
Most of the other "fulfilments" are so stupid and awkward that
Mr. Punch cannot condescend to notice them. The leading events of
the year, of course, went exactly the reverse way to that predicted for
them; but what can you say to a man who predicts " high feeling and
stormy debates in Parliament," and "fulfils" with a downright he
—eve'ybody remembering that there was no party feeling and no
stormy debate. But we must mention the July prediction, because
Raphael is proud of it, and puts it into remarkable type. "A dis-
tinguished lady suffers severe affliction. The highest power in the
land is afflie'ed." What do our readers think the glorious orbs of
Heaven stooped from their majesty to bring about, in order to " fulfil"
this augury. " The Princess Royal's sleeve took fire!"
" The retrogradation of Jupiter" in September clearly showed the
" disastrous failure of the Royal British Bank." Raphael, as he knew
this, might have had the good-nature to warn the public, and so save
an incalculable amount of misery. We shall never believe in his good-
nature and humanity after this.
But all that Punch has yet referred to in Mr. Raphael's pages, and
a good deal moie, is mere impudent cackle, fit only to delude seivant-
maids, small farmers in remote counties, half taught 'p.-entices, and a
few old women. Bui, we now come to a piece of brutal and wanton
insolence, upon which we have no intention of speaking lightly. This
offensive quack, Raphael, a fellow who lives in a hole at Walworth,
has the presumption to declare that the stars of heaven have revealed
to him that, Her Gbacious Majesty's reign is nearly over. We quote
the fellow's own jargon.
Under May he says, " I forbear to remark on the prima-ry direction in
the Nativity of our beloved Queen—Long may she reign"
In June, he says, " I forbear to treat particularly on the untoward
consequences of the Sun to the conjunction of Saturn in the Queen's
Nativity."
And in his summary he writes, "I cannot but reiterate my f.-ars as
to the consequences o'" the untoward influences pervading the Royal
Nativity,"—adding a shuffling hope that the threatened misfortune may
affect the affairs of the nation rather than the Queen, which, of course,
either means* that Raphael is an ignorant liar, or that the stars tell
nothing. Most people will accept both propositions. But in Raphael's
" hieroglyphic" there is no such qualification. The sun is dark-
ened, the English crown is falling from heaven, and death with a dart
and a funeral train are seen.
Now this s jt of thing is disgusting in its impertinence. Raphael—
we ate half inclined to print the snob's real name—is a low quack, and
nobody but a fool can be disturbed for a second by his rubmsh. But,
even a fellow like Raphael is not to be permitted to take liberties with
the name of a Lady deservedly dear to ail of us. How far he has com-
mitted the offence cdled " Imagining" the death of the Sovereign, Sir
Alexander Cockbtjrn must decide; but we confess that if the ca-e
can be met by a good whipping—which, if the feliow can foresee, he has
already bolted-aud three months of bard labour, we should like to see
Raphael taken in hand by the authorities. Harmless fun is to be
cjmmendfd, and even harmless folly may be tolerated, but dirty
liberties like those of the Wralworf,h impostor, who would sell his trash
by outraging decency and feeling, d.setve to be chastised. We confess
that a well-flogged Astrologer would he a sight we should have no
objection to see, and so we co nmend Mr. Raphael to the impioving
influences of the violent nine-tailed constellation Felis—the Cat.
The State of Parties.
To the lover of his country nothing can be more humiliating at the
present moment than the state of parties ! Yes : party is extinct; and
a cold, heartier, outward uniformity pervades all public men. A
Benjamin Disraeli lights his cigar'at the cheroot of Sir Robert
Peel, and a Sir Charles Napier proposes to share his umbrella with
a Sir James Graham. Party is dead, and its tombstone is a hearth-
stone !
Hooray! Hooray! 'Ere's a Johnny with his Calf failed down.'
A ROD FOR RAPHAEL."
The brilliant success of Mr. Punch in the fields of Astrology has, he
regrets to see, cast a sickly shadow over all the previom occupants of
that do.uain. Very helplessly, very stupidly, da they all come out in
their Almanacs this October. They are timid, and they protest, and
they evade, and there is in them all a ludic ous apprehension of the
corking-pin with which Mr. Punch is likely to he down upon them.
They will commit themselves to very little, and they let out their
p -ophecies furtively, and then walk off hastily, just as their accomplices,
the thieves in the street, drop their plunder, and bolt up courts, when
a detective rounds the corner.
There is one exception, however, to which Mr. Fundi will presently
advert. His old victim, the unhappy Raphael—whose Almanac is
appropriately published in Newgate Street, sub mcenibtts altis—
appears as usual with his jaundiced coper, and his hieroglyphic from a
twelfth-night charac er-sheet; but, alas, how changed from the Raphael
of a idacious prediction and plausible nonsense of other days before he
had the misfortune to encounter the baton of Mr. Punch. Like the
Great Serpent, to be bettered, when the fulness of time comes on, by
the hammer of Toor,—so says Scandinavian prophesy—he ''faintly
crawls and emits insalubrious odour." His stars a> e all in a muddle,
they " afflict" one another, and " ru^h to combustion " like tipsy
Vauxhall quadrillers lighting their cgars in the concluding promenade,
Raphael's "fulfilments" of his auguries for the present year are
sad—very sad. Contrast th.m with the literal precision with which
Mr. Punch's were expounded, and then say whether the s'ara favour
the Walworth quack or the Fleet Street sage. Mr. Punch fo.-etold
every public event of the preceding year, bu;'. Raphael—what, has he
told? See here. Raphael said that in October, 1855, "Britain
would endeavour to hold the balance of power in Europe," and he
" fulfils " with a bit of a speech from some nameless M.P. who mentions
that "V. aud N. entwined with one laurel, means that England and
France are one army !" In December, "some bright stars in science
and literature dro >p," and the fulfilment is " the poet Montgomery,
(Raphabl, ill-read, means Robert, and not the poet) Lobd Truro,
Thomas Cubitt, and Colonel Sib thorp, depart this life." " Murders
occur," in December, and the "fulfilment" is that in that month a
coroner's jury fiuds a verdict against Palmar. But Palmer had no
chance, it appea s, for Raphael, prophesying after the fac% gives the
inurde er's destiny. He has not the date of birth, so takes the date
when Palmer " was placed in the dock." " The Sun was Loid of
the Ascencanf, was a- houce Nj. 10, afflicted by the eccentric Uranus,
which orb signified the prosecution, they both beiDg close to the
violent fixed star Caput Algol, or the Head of Medusa, a signification
notorious to professors of astral science indicative of death by
hanging." (We preserve Raphael's grammar).
Apropos of Palmes Raphael on Dove is still more logical and
delightful. He had Dove's nativity, so could read his destiny.
According to the stars, Dove's being hanged was quite certain;
"Venus," "Ptolemy," "quartiles," and "conjunctions," all show it,.
But, if Dove, instead of going to an astrologer of no merit, Harrison
of Leed<% had been to " a talented and judicious professor of the science,
he would doubtless have been saved from the fearful consequences of
the awful crime of which he had been found guilty." That is, Dove
was destined to be hanged, but Raphael would, if consulted, have
saved him from hanging! Professional rivalry is proverbial, but that
an astrologer, in order to discomfit another, should advertise that he
can alter fate, is rather strong. We would not stand this, were we
Harrison. If he does not come to town a.,d kick Raphael, he has
no pluck.
Most of the other "fulfilments" are so stupid and awkward that
Mr. Punch cannot condescend to notice them. The leading events of
the year, of course, went exactly the reverse way to that predicted for
them; but what can you say to a man who predicts " high feeling and
stormy debates in Parliament," and "fulfils" with a downright he
—eve'ybody remembering that there was no party feeling and no
stormy debate. But we must mention the July prediction, because
Raphael is proud of it, and puts it into remarkable type. "A dis-
tinguished lady suffers severe affliction. The highest power in the
land is afflie'ed." What do our readers think the glorious orbs of
Heaven stooped from their majesty to bring about, in order to " fulfil"
this augury. " The Princess Royal's sleeve took fire!"
" The retrogradation of Jupiter" in September clearly showed the
" disastrous failure of the Royal British Bank." Raphael, as he knew
this, might have had the good-nature to warn the public, and so save
an incalculable amount of misery. We shall never believe in his good-
nature and humanity after this.
But all that Punch has yet referred to in Mr. Raphael's pages, and
a good deal moie, is mere impudent cackle, fit only to delude seivant-
maids, small farmers in remote counties, half taught 'p.-entices, and a
few old women. Bui, we now come to a piece of brutal and wanton
insolence, upon which we have no intention of speaking lightly. This
offensive quack, Raphael, a fellow who lives in a hole at Walworth,
has the presumption to declare that the stars of heaven have revealed
to him that, Her Gbacious Majesty's reign is nearly over. We quote
the fellow's own jargon.
Under May he says, " I forbear to remark on the prima-ry direction in
the Nativity of our beloved Queen—Long may she reign"
In June, he says, " I forbear to treat particularly on the untoward
consequences of the Sun to the conjunction of Saturn in the Queen's
Nativity."
And in his summary he writes, "I cannot but reiterate my f.-ars as
to the consequences o'" the untoward influences pervading the Royal
Nativity,"—adding a shuffling hope that the threatened misfortune may
affect the affairs of the nation rather than the Queen, which, of course,
either means* that Raphael is an ignorant liar, or that the stars tell
nothing. Most people will accept both propositions. But in Raphael's
" hieroglyphic" there is no such qualification. The sun is dark-
ened, the English crown is falling from heaven, and death with a dart
and a funeral train are seen.
Now this s jt of thing is disgusting in its impertinence. Raphael—
we ate half inclined to print the snob's real name—is a low quack, and
nobody but a fool can be disturbed for a second by his rubmsh. But,
even a fellow like Raphael is not to be permitted to take liberties with
the name of a Lady deservedly dear to ail of us. How far he has com-
mitted the offence cdled " Imagining" the death of the Sovereign, Sir
Alexander Cockbtjrn must decide; but we confess that if the ca-e
can be met by a good whipping—which, if the feliow can foresee, he has
already bolted-aud three months of bard labour, we should like to see
Raphael taken in hand by the authorities. Harmless fun is to be
cjmmendfd, and even harmless folly may be tolerated, but dirty
liberties like those of the Wralworf,h impostor, who would sell his trash
by outraging decency and feeling, d.setve to be chastised. We confess
that a well-flogged Astrologer would he a sight we should have no
objection to see, and so we co nmend Mr. Raphael to the impioving
influences of the violent nine-tailed constellation Felis—the Cat.
The State of Parties.
To the lover of his country nothing can be more humiliating at the
present moment than the state of parties ! Yes : party is extinct; and
a cold, heartier, outward uniformity pervades all public men. A
Benjamin Disraeli lights his cigar'at the cheroot of Sir Robert
Peel, and a Sir Charles Napier proposes to share his umbrella with
a Sir James Graham. Party is dead, and its tombstone is a hearth-
stone !