Title or descriptionArtificial Ice for Skating.
Title or description
Oneof the most interesting places of amusement in London is the Colosseum. This is an immense edifice, which looks, as you approach it, like a Grecian temple covered with a vast dome.
The purpose of this building is to exhibit spectacles and scenes of various kinds, such as views of famous cities and interesting places, in all parts of the world. The effect is produced partly by painting, and partly by machinery, and the management of the light that is let in through the dome. It is scarcely possible for any person not to be completely deceived by these exhibitions; they are so natural, so truthful and life-like, that the spectator is irresistibly made to feel that he looks upon a reality and not a picture.
The spectators—such as desire it—are taken into a small circular room, which is prepared with seats; this is so contrived as to rise slowly, and imperceptibly to those who are in it, which makes the scene itself appear to change. By this contrivance, the effect of sunrise and evening, upon the landscape, are produced to admiration.
Sometimes amusing scenes occur at the place, on account of the circular room. Not long since a young fellow, from the country, came with his sweetheart, to London, and of course they must go to the Colosseum. In they went, and the girl, desirous to see the best of it, pressed forward into the circular room; John, being left a little behind. Just at that moment, the circular room began to rise, but neither the youth nor the girl noticed it till it had ascended to the height of ten feet—they were so absorbed with the spectacle before them.
At last the girl perceived the ascending motion—and, looking down, beheld her lover, far beneath. Filled with the awful idea of the tricks upon travellers that she had heard of as practised by the Londoners, she immediately fancied that it was a case of kidnapping or abduction, equal to any in the tales of the Arabian Nights. Therefore, spreading forth her beseeching arms, and bending over toward her lover, in a mingled tone of tenderness and terror, she exclaimed—“John! John! John! John!”
The faithful heart of the swain felt that these sounds could come from no one but Hannah—his Hannah! He looked around in amazement; but saw her not. Yet, as he thought veryhighlyof her, and deemed her almost an angel, it was not difficult for him, as the sounds plainly came fromabove, to seek her in that direction. He turned his eyes upward, and there she was, sure enough, going it—“John! John! John!”
It is singular how differently terror affects women from what it does men. The former are usually rendered more eloquent by its influence—while the latter are often reduced to silence. So it was with our hero now. Deeply impressed with the wonderful event,—his fair friend ascending to the skies, while he stood still upon the earth,—his mind agonized at the idea of separation, and a thousand creeping fears rushing through his heart at the recollection that they were in that wild wilderness—London—so dangerous to wandering love-lorn lasses; thinking and feeling all this, still John said not a word. Insensible to the shout of laughter that burst from the two audiences, the one above and the one below—he gazed and gazed, and said nothing. At last, some one who was standing near, explained the matter to him, and the ladies above, pacified Hannah. So this part of the exhibition was closed.
Among the spectacles of the Colosseum, there was a very interesting one representing the scenery of the Alps inSwitzerland. This exhibited the snow-covered mountains; the craggy cliffs topped with the cottages of the Swiss villagers; the dark and deep ravines, shadowed with evergreen trees; and the sparkling rivulets, leaping down the rocky precipices. By means of machinery, the figures of men and women were seen to move, and the ruffling action of the water, with even its flashing in the sunlight, was admirably represented.
Perhaps the most interesting and wonderful exhibition was that which was got up last summer, consisting of a field of artificial ice, made of crystal salts, principally soda; and having not only the glassy look, but the slippery effect of real ice. The Skating Club of London were invited to try it, and they pronounced it excellent. Accordingly, the exhibition was opened in mid-summer, and the spectators, sitting in an atmosphere of eighty degrees, could be amused with seeing a party of skaters before them, gliding about with all the activity and ease attending such a display in winter. In order to render the illusion more perfect, and the scene more picturesque, the surrounding scenery consisted of snow-capped hills and mountains, bearing all the wild and savage aspect of the Alps in winter. The effect was admirable—the deception complete. The spectator, in July or August, coming from a view of Regent’s Park, decked in all the gorgeous livery of summer, in the space of thirty seconds found himself transported to an Alpine scene in the season of the sternest winter. Before him was an icy lake, and skaters were gliding over its surface; while the distance displayed all the chill and ghastly features of Switzerland, in January.
Such a transition was almost a realizing of the tricks which fancy sometimes plays us in dreams, and shows us the admirable power of human art. It shows us that in a great city, where the people are cut off from the pleasures of country life—of pleasant scenery, and fine walks among the fields—that they still contrive by their ingenuity, to rival, if not surpass, the combinations of nature herself.