Unscientific Art

Abstract

IN Punch's series of cartoons, “the man at the wheel” turns up now and again. The most recent example is that of date February 22: John Bull and Punch are strenuously holding a steering-wheel between them, in a tempestuous scene. I have a second example before me in the series of cartoons of Beaconsfield recently issued, No. 61: Disraeli has one hand on a steering-wheel, while the other holds a pistol directed to the powder magazine below; and he threatens to blow up the ship if Gladstone and Bright (climbing over the bulwarks behind) step on board. Other cases will be remembered. Now (neglecting here the political meaning of the pictures) these steering-wheels are wonderful productions, and how they serve for steering is a mystery. The wonder, remarked on by St. James, of “a very small helm” turning great ships, is here outdone. The wheel stands, in all simplicity, between two uprights, or a slitted upright, fixed on the deck (or a raised platform); there is nothing behind or before the outer surfaces of the uprights. But an essential part of ordinary steering-wheels is the drum or axle extending generally a little way behind (and covered, it may be), on which are wound ropes or chains passing round pulleys to the tiller. A more modern form well known is a screw shaft with levers, &c. The omission in question in these cartoons leaves the scientific mind decidedly “at sea”, and with little confidence in the steersman. I suspect the artistic type of mind is rather apt to neglect such details.