Punch (41.1861)

JULY 6, 1861.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

GRAY’S ELEGY.

{Written in the Rooms of the Geographical Society, in the presence of
Du Chaillu’s Collections.)

Westminster Clock proclaims the close of day;

The Secretary’s gone to get his tea;

The visitors drop, one by one, away,

And leave the place to silence and to me.

What specimens are these that meet my sight—

What’s this collection the apartment holds ?

These rude cartoons, where passing human height.

The huge Gorilla his long arm unfolds ?

Upon these walls thus vauntingly displayed,

VV hy should those ill-stuffed slcins their places keep P
Shall shallow Chaillu our domain invade.

And into fame as a discoverer leap !

Shall these Gorilla tales that move my scorn,

On Murray’s page by thousands thus be readP
And Zoologic bays by him be worn
That ought, by rights, to grace another head ?

Tor him no cash shall new editions earn.

Deck’d with engravings cribbed from St. Hilaire :

No more shall London Lion-hunters burn
With this Munchausen then- repasts to share.

His borrowed plumes I ’ll make this jackdaw yield.

Against his credit deal a sturdy stroke—

Drive his o’er-done Gorilla from the field.

Puff out his puffs, and end his tale in smoke.

What though an Owen set store by his toil,

His credit though a Murchison assure ?

His specimens I ’ll view with scornful smile.

Pronounce them known,—nor only known, but poor.

Cannibal Tans in public faith I ’ll lorrer,

Who, can believe in Ghouls that rob the grave ?

I ’ll make him prove where he spent every hour—

Nor yet believe him—though the proof he gave.

I ’ll make a mountain of each molehill fault,

And o’er it scientific outcry raise :

Visit his slips with merciless assault,

And damn his merits with the faintest praise.

Believe who will Gorillas beat their bust.

Till three miles off you hear the pent-up breath:

That Tschiego-mbouves hi leaf-shelters thrust
Their heads (by Wolfe drawn, not from life, but death.)

I can’t deny that the Gorilla’s made
Too like a man complacence to inspire;

Although, his cerebellum brain-o’erlaid.

Than highest Ape, makes lowest Nigger higher.

But the Gorilla has been known this age
By specimens on each Museum roll:

Men have kept young Gorillas in a cage.

And found them docile creatures on the whole.'

Tull many a Tschiego-mbouve here has been
(Though doomed Chimpanzee’s common name to bear,)
And Kooloo-Kambas here in numbers seen,

Have made the Zoologic Gardens stare.

With Nyare, that for bush-cow contest
Tame as an Alderney or Ayrshire stood:

Potamochcerus albifrons, at rest
In Regent’s Park, with tusks untaint of blood.

Int’rest of reading thousands to command
Trom fields of tact to fancy’s realm to rise.

To rank as wonders of an unknown land.

And blaze transfigured in Du Chaillu’s eyes,

Their lot forbade,—nor circumscribed alone
Their reputation, but their limbs confined:

In Regent’s Park as common creatures known.

And seen by all, to pay a bob inclined.

Across Du Chaillu’s equatorial life.

Poor brutes, they have not had the luck to stray.

But pent in cages led a dreary life
Where Sunday loungers flirt the hours away.

Tor me, who up to all things, live or dead,

Against Du Chaillu my objections state;

Should you inquire—tow’rds the Museum led—
Wherefore my indignation is so great,

Haply some kind zoologist may say,

“ Oft have we known Old Gray his angry horn

Level at aught that came across his way.

When roused to sudden spite, or spleen, or scorn.

“ Running a muck at all within his reach,

The victims of his wrath he’d toss sky-high;

And take uncommon liberties of speech,

Tor which he would be sorry by-and-by.

“ Large was his knowledge, and his soul sincere.

But he had faults of temper to amend;

His logic, often, the reverse of clear,

His language, often, likely to offend.

“No further seek the quarrel to disclose,

Which ’gainst Du Chaillu bade him raise his rods,

In fight when Owen, Gray, and Huxley close,
’Twixt right or wrong who shall declare the odds ? **

AN ABSURDITY IN THE LAW.

One of the Magistrates of Marlborough Street tells us that—

| “A Dog might bite any person once or twice without there being any remedy
i against the owner.”

In cases of hydrophobia, we should think that being bitten once would
be more than sufficient, and we doubt if even then the poor unfortunate
calf, so lacerated, would have much of a remedy against the owner.
Mr. Tyrwhitt calls it an absurdity in the law, and—

“He couldn’t tell how it had its rise, but certain it is that, through some pedantio
rules, it is necessary to show that the dog in such a case was of known ferocious
habits.”

Such law we call only worthy of Dogberry. A man is answerable
for any damage done by his servant, by his horse, or his pig, or (to
speak like an Irishman) any other member of his family; and why not
then for his dog P Does this legal indulgence extend to all dogs ?
How would it affect the Dog Tear’em ? Might he bite any one once
or twice without there being any remedy against the constituency that
owns him, or would he be excluded from that canine privilege, inas-
much as it would be easy to show that he was a dog of “known
ferocious habits.” In the meantime, it is very comfortable to know,
especially as the dog-days are fast approaching, that any dog might
bite you, or your child (and the naked chubby legs of children must be
very tempting to many a hungry dog), and you would not have a leg to
stand upon in court, unless you could duly show that there was a big
dental incision in each of them. Perhaps your best chance of relief
would be to appeal to the “ Society for the Protection against Cruelty
I to Animals.” Your claim would, of course, be under the head of
| “ Calves.”

At it Again, you See !

The Wiscount is ever apt at an absurdity. A friend of his the
other day was talking of America, and saying that to set the slaves all
free 'without injuring their owners would be almost an act of magic.
“Magic!” chirped the Wiscount. “Well, I don’t see that exactly.
But it might certainly be called an act of negro-mancy ! ”

POLITE LETTERS IN THE POLICE FORCE.

Commissioner Maynb is about to publish his Memoirs. He has
appropriately taken up the well-known Trench title, “ l.es Chroniques
de V(Eil-de-Bceuf; ” modifying. it with no small brilliancy, which
reflects the greatest credit on his lumieres as a literary character, into
“ The Revelations of a Policeman’s Bull’s-Eye.”

Church-Rate.

There is one Church-Rate we should like to see abolished, and
that is the shilling one is compelled to give to the Pew-opener on the
Sunday before you are favoured with a seat. When we think of the
many rates we have paid in this way, our virtuous indignation against
the system, and our horror of the extortion, are such that we cannot
help exclaiming, “Proh Pete-door ! ”

Infallible Recipe for Hot Weather.—What is the best way
to prevent meat turning ? Tat it straight off.