PROCEEDINGS OF LEARNED SOCIETIES, 1841.
THE STATISTICAL SOCIETY.
[Our country readers may probably not be aware that there exists in London a body of pleasant-minded gentlemen, constituting a society bearing the above name, who collect, with never-wearying application and research, the various statistical reports connected with every subject of the day. Their proceedings are duly chronicled in the different scientific and literary reviews, but as these may not be within the reach of all, we have collected the most interesting points discovered by their labours, during the past twelvemonth, and present them as a "Year Book of Facts" to our admirers.]
Some valuable particulars have been gained in connection with the supper taverns of London. Of every twenty visitors, it appears that eight order Welsh rabbits, six ditto broiled kidneys, four ditto poached eggs, and two ditto chops or steaks, as their taste may direct; and that these numbers are divided into seven medical students, five lawyers' clerks, three gentlemen from the country, the same number of men about town, and two shop-boys or single tradesmen, who imagine they are so. Of these, more than one-third call the waiters "Charles," or "Tom;" two in five join loudly in the burdens of "The Pope," and "The Monks of Old;" and one in four encores the comic songs by striking his fists upon the table, until the cruets commence performing an intricate figure of their own, and finally tumble down upon the floor.
The statistics of Camberwell Fair are exceedingly interesting; and the following return of the state of fifty dolls there purchased, at the end of a week from the time of buying, will be read, we are assured, with avidity:
| Had their eyes poked in, and rattling loose in the head | 12 |
| Ditto picked out | 8 |
| Despoiled of their wigs | 6 |
| Lost their arms and legs | 9 |
| Melted before the fire | 3 |
| Had their noses beaten flat against the bars | 7 |
| Totally destroyed | 4 |
| In tolerable preservation | 1 |
| —— | |
| Total | 50 |
As the affection of a child for its doll proverbially increases according to the dilapidated state of the latter, the above tables afford an interesting view of the probable existing proportion of nursery attachments at the present moment. One child in three, at the Fair, had a mouth covered with gingerbread crumbs, and five in twelve had the stomach-ache. The promenade Concert d'Eté, which lasted all day long, embraced twenty-two penny trumpets, or cornets-à-bois, nineteen musical fruits, six fiddles with packthread strings, and four drums, varying in price from sixpence to two shillings. A solo, by a very young performer, on a tin rattle filled with peas, was very much admired.
A paper, involving some singular points of manufacturing economy, has been written, entitled, "What becomes of all the pins?" It appears, from Professor Partington, that twenty millions of pins are daily manufactured in this country. These get into general circulation, and after a time, entirely disappear; but the remarkable fact is, that, like the swallows, nobody knows where they go to. It is proved that, were it possible to recall these lost articles, a quantity might be collected sufficient to build the projected foot-bridge at Hungerford Market, and the residue might be cast into one enormous pin, which should be erected as a column in any part of London best suited for its elevation, and to be called "Victoria's Pin," in opposition to "Cleopatra's Needle," at Alexandria. There would be a winding staircase in the interior, with a saloon in its head, and it might serve, not only as a land-mark in stormy weather for the fourpenny steamboats plying between Vauxhall and London Bridge, but, since the setting up of statues to everybody that dies is getting into fashion, the column could be crowned with an image of Shakspeare, Byron, or any other inferior character who has not yet been so honoured, in London, beyond the lobbies of the theatres and Madame Tussaud's.
From the visiting report "On the Lunatic Asylums of the United Kingdom," we learn that the persons of unsound or slightly cracked intellects in England, amount to ninety per cent., but that straight-waistcoats have gone out of fashion, being superseded by straight pea-jackets with the majority of the aberrated. Of a great quantity of lunatics now in Bedlam, five out of thirteen are addicted to punching the crowns out of their hats, and then putting them on topsy-turvy; and two in seventeen are not quite clear whether they are the Secretary of State or Julius Cæsar, but collect small pebbles, which they call petrified bears' heads and five-shilling pieces. Ninety-one and a half per cent. believe they are perfectly sane, and that all the rest are stark mad; whilst two in nine are preparing to bring an action against the Queen for breach of promise of marriage. Of three hundred wooden bowls allowed them for their gruel, twenty-four had been thrown at the nurses and keepers in one day; and, in a single instance, one had been converted into a species of cap, which was put on with much solemnity, and the wearer then kept close watch in the yard for the whole week over a strawberry-pottle, which he represented to be Windsor Castle. At Hanwell, from the proximity of the asylum to the railway, twenty per cent. believe that they are first-class carriages, and have a habit of whistling loudly when they approach, that the others may get out of the way; a proceeding which is generally advisable.
A statement has also been made connected with the omnibuses of the metropolis, from which it appears that, when you are waiting at the corner of any street for an omnibus, seven out of eight are going the wrong way. Ninety per cent. of the cads ask if you will ride outside when you hail them; and, out of thirteen passengers, three wear kid gloves, eight sport brown Berlin, and two none at all.
REPORT OF THE CATNACH SOCIETY.
Established a.d. 1841, on the Model of the Camden, Percy, and
Shakspeare Societies.
RULES.
I.—The Society shall be called the Catnach Society.
II.—The chief object of the Society shall be to reprint rare and unedited ballads and handbills, printed, at various times, by Messrs. Catnach, Birt, and Pitt, of Great St. Andrew Street, Seven Dials.
III.—The Society shall consist of as many subscribers as can be got together, and, as a precaution against bolting, the subscriptions shall be paid in advance.
IV.—A subscription of a guinea a year shall entitle the members to receive a copy of all the works issued by the Society.
BOOKS ALREADY PRINTED.
1.—The Greenacre Garland; or, a Merrie Manual for Midnight Murderers: A collection of the most remarkable dying-speech bills issued within the last forty years; comprising letters written, and hymns composed by the malefactors the night before their executions, speeches on the scaffold, copies of verses detailing the crime, and written for music, with views of the execution, and occasional portraits of the felons. Edited by the late Thomas Cheshire, Esq., of Newgate, Middlesex.
2.—A Collection of Political Songs and Ballads, having reference to some local particulars connected with a county election in 1833. As the allusions in these relics are but imperfectly understood, and the interest has quite gone by, this forms a valuable addition to the works already published.
3.—The Street Anthology of the Nineteenth Century; comprising notices of the most popular itinerant musicians of the day: to which is added, an inquiry into the probable author of "Jim along Josey;" with memoirs of the following eminent perambulators—viz., the little man in the soldier's coat, with the "jolly nose," who indulges in Billy Barlow and Follow the Drum, under a very diminutive and dilapidated umbrella, on certain evenings in Leicester Square; the professional gentleman in the oil-skin cap, and whiskers inclining to auburn, who sings to the dulcimer and attends the races; the ambiguous character who ties his hair in bows, wears sandals, carries a fan, and sings "She promised to buy me a bunch of blue ribbons," and dances to the chorus—"Tilly ung de rung tung de rung day," as he plays an imaginary piano on his ribs; the two young gentlemen who black their faces with soot and tallow, and sing "Sich a getting up stairs," standing upon their heads, and dancing with their feet in the air; the conjuror who wears a scarlet coat, does the doll trick, and tries to imitate "Jerry," but who does not succeed therein.
4.—Merrie England in the Modern Time; or, Richardson and his Friends. A singular collection of showbills and street advertisements, edited by the late Mr. Richardson, of travelling-theatre celebrity; including details of the various fairs he attended, and embracing endless anecdotes of his contemporaries—the learned pig, black wild Indian, white Negress, Scotch giant, fat boy, Welsh dwarf, young Saunders, Mr. Samivell, the equestrian, &c.; interspersed with many outlandish songs and recitations, and dialogues between masters of shows and Mr. Merriman.
5.—Three Yards for a Penny. A répertoire of some reprinted popular lyrical poems prevalent at the commencement of the reign of Queen Victoria; including "Happy Land," "Claude du Val," "Woodman, spare that Tree," "Nix my Dolly," "Wanted a Something," &c. &c.