London shops
London shops
Theshops in London surpass everything of the kind in the world. We do not speak now of the arcades and bazaars, where a whole village of shopkeepers are associated together under one vast roof, but of single shops situated upon the streets.
We give a picture above, of one of the shops of Ludgate Hill, and there are others of equal magnificence in other parts of London. The rooms in these establishments are of great extent, and fitted up in the most elegant and imposing style. At the front, are windows with plates of glass eight or ten feet in length, and of proportional width; the sashes are of polished brass. The doors are of the richest mahogany, and the entrance is altogether in the most sumptuous style.
Within, the shop presents a scene like fairy land. Splendid mirrors are so arranged as to multiply the columns of the room, and throw a long vista beforethe eye of the beholder: at the same time, the richest and most gorgeous of merchandises are displayed on all sides, so as to strike the eye, and add to the effect produced by the mirrors. When the shop is filled with well-dressed ladies, as is usually the case from ten in the morning till three in the afternoon, there is a bewildering splendor about the scene, and one might almost fancy, that a species of fascination, calculated to make the customer an easy prey to the shopkeeper, is at once the object and the end of these devices.
The wealth displayed in the shops of London is suitable to the metropolis of the world. In one you see heaps of silks, of the richest and most splendid patterns; and if you pause to note their infinite variety, you become at last surfeited and sickened with mere luxury. In another shop you see every species of jewelry—and rubies, diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, cameos, and intaglios, are so rife, that you pass on, content that they are not yours.
You come to a window, where gold and silver plate are stretched out before you in such profusion, that they almost look cheap and vulgar! In one window is a display of cutlery, so bright and so fancifully arranged, that it looks like the gaudy figures in a kaleidoscope; in another, there is such an assemblage of furs, that you draw a long breath, with a smothering sensation, just to look at it.
Thus, as you pass on, one after another of these shops presents you with its treasures,—and all attended by every ingenious device, every suggestion of busy fancy, to set them off to the best advantage. There is a perpetual strife between the shopkeepers, to outshine each other: each one is desirous of obtaining notoriety, of catching the public eye, of securing a run of custom—in short, of being in the fashion and making a fortune, of course.
Regent street, at night, seems like an illuminated city. The lights in the shop windows, arranged to display the goods, are exceedingly brilliant; yet they are generally hidden from the sight, while they throw the whole flood of their blaze upon the merchandise. The effect is truly beautiful,—and if any one desires to see the shops of London to the greatest advantage, let them visit Regent street in the evening. And one thing more—if a person wishes to save his money let him defer buying till he has been in London a month; by that time, he is likely to be so surfeited with splendor, as to feel weary of it.