Punch or The London charivari (4.1843)

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

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way. There was a certain Ionian young lady of the name of Arachne,
daughter to one Mr. Idmon, a respectable dyer. Arachne was very
handy with her needle, and not only could work slippers in Berlin
wool, and all that sort of thing, but would have eclipsed even the
celebrated Miss Linwood. So conceited was she of her skill, that
she defied Minerva to work samplers with her for a fancy fair. She I
chose for her subject the gallantries of Jupiter ; but her performances
were mere caricatures by the side of Minerva's: and so ill did she
brook her defeat, that, disgusted with all other work, she "worked"
herself " off." She did what was since done by the unfortunate
Miss Bailey ; but Minerva, whose resentment extended beyond the
noose, transformed her into a spider.
Clever young ladies often lead a single life. Whether it is that
their intellect leads them to prefer celibacy, or acts by repelling
admirers, it were tediou3 to inquire ; but it is certain that Minerva,
who had made a vow of virginity, might have married had she chosen.
She had cne offer, at any rate, from Vulcan, who, being rather too
pressing in his suit, was dismissed with a flea in his ear—that is to
say, a box on it, and likewise with an obscuration of the eye, and
sundry lacerations of the visage. But Vulcan was decidedly a fright,
and not only very ugly, but the reverse of clean ; moreover, he was
lame, and had another wife besides. The question is whether Minerva
would have said nay to such a divinity as Apollo. She was the death,
however, of one young man ; his name was Pallas ; he was the son of
Tartarus and Terra, and an immense giant. Pie died, though, not of
her beauty, but by her hand ; and it is said that she dressed herself
in his skin ; but for "skin," we should probably read "small-clothes."
Hence it was that she got the nickname of Pallas, a title which she
did not retuse, though she declined it " with a difference " in the
genitive case.
Minerva, we are told, was the first who built a ship, which if she
did, it is likely that she invented steamers. The invention of the
flute also is ascribed to her ; but that cannot have been the German
fiute. And yet it must have been something like it ; for Minerva is
said while playing it to have made the most ugly faces, which, on one
occasion, aflorded high diversion to Juno and Venus. Minerva had
no idea what they were laughing at, and demanded, with some
asperity, what was the joke. " My dear," they replied, "only look at
yourself in the glass." She did so, and was so disgusted with herself,
that she threw the instrument away in a pet, wishing ill-luck to any
one who found it. It was found by one Marsyas, who, in consequence,
had the slight ill-luck to be flayed alive.
Though not of a quarrelsome disposition, Minerva would often
interfere in battles : generally in order to take somebody's part.
Indeed, she was represented for the most part with helmet, spear, and
shield, on which last was sculptured the Gorgon's head ; a bugbear of
such terrific ugliness that it literally petrified the beholder. It con-
sisted of a demon's face surmounted by a periwig of serpents ; and
was certainly by no means a pretty thing to place on a mantel-shelf.
Iler helmet also, was surrounded with griffins, which griffins were
probably so many heads of Medusa on a smaller scale. The goddess
herself was made to look rather like a griffin ; at least, somewhat
masculine in appearance, which is not a pleasing peculiarity in a
young lady.
Minerva had a favourite bird, which, were one to guess, one would
perhaps suppose to have been the parrot; it was, however, the owl,
this creature having been esteemed the bird of wisdom because it
looks so very wise, and was in face so much like the philosophers of
antiquity. There is a sort of Lord-Chancellor-like look about the owl.
Among various other names, Minerva was often called Glaucopis
on account of the blueness of her eyes ; but there is some reason to
believe that she also w»re blue spectacles, which frequently go along
with blue stockings, whereof Minerva was the patroness. The young
" idies who take notes at the Royal Institution may consider them-
selves as her peculiar pets, as also may all geological and botanical
beauties, and damsels of like tastes who are not beauties.
Minerva is supposed to preside over mechanics' institutes, literary
and scientific associations, and particularly over the Grand National
Association* for the Advancement of Science ; but whether she
really does may be disputed.

LAYS OF MODERN BABYLON.
3Y BHB1NGTON WH AT VOUHA YC 4 r.L M E, Ei).

Why i8 the cramp like a hearty dinner on veal?—Because it takes a good
twist of your calf.
Why was little Tom Thumb like a great weakness ?—Because lie was
in-firmity.
What is the slowest post on die road ?—The hand-post.
Why is a copper like a ';>ad race-iiorse ?—Because it's beaten hollow.
Why is a Hog the dirtiest of anima'.s ?—Because the more he's washed the
more gTub he gets.

THE PANTHEON'.
Oh, dome capacious ! venerable pile !
When 'neath thy column'd portico I stand.
Fast o'er my features darts the patriot's smile,
To think it is within my native land.
There stands a building so extremely grand.
Britain '. they often call thee Freedom's home,
But why I neither ask nor understand.
Enough for me that I can freely roam
About the streets, and gaze—on the Pantheon's detas !
Thy walls were once devoted to the strains
Of youns: Apollo, with his thrilling lyre.
Until—as modern history explains—
One night thy grand interior caught fire,
Up flew the flames—higher and higher, and higher—
Until they seem'd almost t'outstrip the air.
Too great the sum, alas ! it did require
To put thee into regular repair,
After the damage done by such tremendous Rare
And there neglected wert thou doomed to stand
For many a weary night and dreary day.
Extremely useless, but immensely grand :
Thy landlord trying every niggling way
To make thee—if 'twere hut the ground-rent—pay :
Letting thee out, what sacrilege !—odds-oons !
My cheeks still mantle while the truth I say,—
Unto an aeronaut for his balloons—
I've seen them hanging there—on idle afternoons.
But even more ignoble still thy fate ! —
How to my face, e'en now the warm blood gushes.
When I the melancholy fact relate !—
That to one Tubbs (who whilom dealt in brushes \
A part of thee was leased ; for such, oh ! such in
Weak man's short-sightedness, that ne'er, I trow,
Did thy proprietor conceive how much is
Made by the use to which they've put thee now.
His fortune he'd have made—but that he knew not how I
Where the Italian pour'd his dulcet strains.
And the conductor did his baton wield,
The keeper of the Hall now counts her gains,
And, sometimes revelling in fancy's field,
Anticipates the sum the day may yield —
But poesy has born me on her wing
So far, that reason's founts are half congeal'd.
I'll drink no more of the Pierian spring,
But dash my harp away—and cease, yes, cease to siug.
But why, alas ! am I compell'd to smother
The feelings throbbing through my fever'd brain ?
Oh, holy Nature ! best and kindest mother,
Shall I resume my broken harp again !
Ah, no ! the effort would be worse than vain.
Crack'd are its notes, disorder'd is its pitch,
Wild and unpleasant, then, would be its strain,
That harp—whilom in melody so rich—
I'd rather cast it down—in some dark, dank, damp ditch-

Snttquariaii s?orict».
This venerable body met last week for the purpose of hearing the
report of a committee that had been appointed to sit upon a square piece
of flag-stone, which had been removed from beneath some rubbish on
clearing the ground for the new Royal Exchange. The stone was pro-
duced, and seemed to be an object of intense interest. The committee
reported that it was crustaceous in its outer coats, and had been clearly
used as a flag ; but by whom, or when, or why, there were no means of
ascertaining. From the venerable appearance of the relic, it was sup-
posed to have been the flag that "braved a thousand years :" and. having
passed a resolution to this effect, the meeting broke up perfectly satisfied.

EXTRAORDINARY STATISTICAL PHENOMENON.
It is a remarkable fact—showing the contradictions that sometimes
occur, and the curious anomalies occasionally to be met with,—it is, we
say, a very remarkable fact, that while the number of lunatics has been
increasing in a very large ratio within the last two or three years, the
readers of the Herald have been at the same lime diminishing.