Sufficient materials have already been accumulated to enable the reader to form an estimate of Punch's credentials as a prophet or "intelligent anticipator." They would not, however, be complete without the "Forecast of the Next Generation" which appeared in 1872, and which is interesting not so much from its prophecies as from its comprehensive catalogue of Victorian shortcomings, failings and abuses:—
The next generation will possess an army properly clothed.
The next generation will all be able to read and write.
The next generation will wear light clothes in summer.
The next generation will remove some of the public-statues and edifices which their predecessors have erected.
The next generation will find life supportable without so many Vestries.
The next generation will not make calls.
The next generation will ride to and fro in decent cabs.
The next generation will have other sorts of fish in daily consumption besides red herrings.
The next generation will speak French and German, and, possibly, know something of their own language and literature.
The next generation will not wear high black hats in the month of July.
The next generation will see the officers of the army walking about the streets in uniform.
The next generation will have other public places of amusement open to them on Sundays, besides public-houses.
The next generation will be better cooks.
The next generation will have no theatres with fees.
The next generation will leave the table with the ladies.
The next generation will not avoid Hotels.
The next generation will find they can get on pretty comfortably without the Lord Privy Seal, the Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, the Judge Advocate General, etc.
The next generation will not be ashamed of Leicester Square.
The next generation will be able to cross the Channel with less bodily discomfort.
The next generation will journey by railway more safely and more punctually.
The next generation will still have the National Debt, duns, dentists, domestics, humbugs, quacks, impostors, absurd fashions, adulteration, swindlers, and the Income Tax.
[10] In January, 1868, reference is made to carriages with circular holes between the compartments in order to facilitate communication.
[11] The scheme was originally proposed by a French engineer named Mathieu in the very beginning of the century, and taken up in 1833 by Thomé de Gamond, who worked at it for more than twenty years until an International Committee was formed. Operations were interrupted by the Franco-Prussian War, but resumed in earnest in 1872. M. de Gamond died in poverty in 1876.
[LONDON]
Foul State of the Thames
Though nothing comparable to the Hausmannizing of Paris by systematized and uniform reconstruction was accomplished in London in the mid-Victorian period, great changes and improvements were introduced. Bridges were built, the river was partially purified and the Thames Embankment carried out. The state of the "ancient river, shining as he goes, mail-clad in morning to the ancient sea" of Henley's phrase, was a hideous scandal in the 'fifties. Father Thames may on occasion have appealed to the eye, but he continually affronted the nose. In 1858 the growth of London was estimated to reach 5,816,900 by 1901. Yes, says Punch, but what if the Thames is not purified? In June of that year the nuisance, aggravated by a dry summer, was painfully brought home to legislators in session at Westminster. Constant protests were raised in both Houses, and when Lord John Manners asserted that the Central Board of Works stopped the way, Punch would have liked to see Thwaites—the chairman—and his "gabbling colleagues" committed to prison until they had purged their contempt for our river.