London.
Dear Charley:—
O, we have had a noble treat; and how I longed for your company, as we spent hour after hour in the British Museum. The building is very fine, but the inside—that is every thing. The entire front is, I think, about four hundred feet, and I reckonedforty-four columns forming a colonnade; these are forty-five feet high. The portico is now receiving magnificent sculpture in relief; and when the whole is finished, and the colossal statues surmount the pediment, and the fine iron palisadoes, now erecting, are completed, I think the edifice will be among the finest in the world. The entrance hall is most imposing, and the ceiling is richly painted in encaustic. The staircases are very grand, and their side walls are cased with red Aberdeen granite, brought to an exquisite polish. To describe the British Museum would be a vain attempt. In the hall are several fine statues. Especially did we admire the one of Shakspeare by Roubilliac, and given by Garrick. We soon found our way to the Nineveh Gallery, and were wide awake to look after the relics of Nineveh dug up by Layard on the banks of the Tigris. Here is a monstrous human head, having bull's horns and ears, many fragments of horses' heads, bulls, &c., &c. The colossal figure of the king is very grand, and discovers great art. There is also a fine colossal priest, and the war sculptures are of the deepest interest. Then we went to the Lycian Room. The sculptures here were found at Xanthus, in Lycia. These ruins claim a date of five hundred years before Christ. Here are some exquisite fragments of frieze, describing processions, entertainments, sacrifices, and female figures of great beauty.
In the Grand Saloon are numerous Roman remains of sculpture. In the Phigalian Saloon are marbles found at a temple of Apollo, near Phigalia, in Arcadia, in 1814. The Elgin Saloon is devoted to the magnificent marbles taken in 1804, from temples at Athens, by the Earl of Elgin, and were purchased by Parliament for thirty-five thousand pounds. They are chiefly ornaments from the Parthenon, a Doric temple built in the time of Pericles, B.C. 450, by Phidias. No one can fail to be impressed with the great beauty of these conceptions. The famous Sigean inscription is written in the most ancient of Greek letters, boustrophedon-wise; that is, the lines follow each other as oxen turn from one furrow to another in ploughing.
There are five galleries devoted to natural history, and are named thus: the Botanical Museum, Mammalia Gallery, Eastern Zoölogical Gallery, Northern Zoölogical Gallery, and the Mineral Gallery. The specimens in all these are very fine. Nothing can be finer than the mammalia. The preservation has been perfect, and far surpasses what I have been accustomed to see in museums, where decay seems to be often rioting upon the remains of nature. The department of ornithology is wonderful, and I could have enjoyed a whole day in examining the birds of all climates. In conchology the collection is very rich. I do not often get such a gratification as Ihad among the portraits which are hanging on the walls of these galleries. The very men I had heard so much of, and read about, were here lifelike, painted by the best artists of their day. I was much pleased with the picture of Mary, Queen of Scots, by Jansen; of Cromwell, by Walker; of Queen Elizabeth, by Zucchero; of Charles II., by Lely; of Sir Isaac Newton; of Lord Bacon; of Voltaire; of John Guttenburg; and of Archbishop Cranmer. As to the library and the MSS., what shall I say? The collection of books is the largest in the kingdom, and valuable beyond calculation. It amounts to seven hundred thousand. We looked at illuminated gospels, Bibles, missals, till we were bewildered with the gold and purple splendor; and then we walked from one glass case to another, gazing upon autographs that made us heart-sick when we thought of our juvenile treasures in this line. If ever I did covet any thing, it was some old scraps of paper which had the handwriting of Milton, Cromwell, Luther, Melancthon, Erasmus, and a longet cæteraof such worthies. You know how much we love medals and coins; well, here we revelled to our heart's delight. Country after country has its history here, beautifully illustrated. The museum has two spacious rooms devoted to reading, and the access to these treasures is very liberal.
If I could stay in London one year, I shouldcertainly propose to spend three or four months in study and research at the British Museum; nor do I imagine that it would be lost time. It seems to me that such a place must make scholars; but I know, by my own painful recollection, that opportunities for improvement are not always valued as they should be. I have been much struck lately with the thought that men of leisure are not the men who do much in literature. It never has been so. Here and there a rich man cultivates his mind; but it is your busy men who leave the mark upon the age.
While in the museum, we were shown Lord Chief Justice Campbell, the author of the Lives of the Chancellors, &c. He is a working-man, if there be one in England, and yet he finds time to elaborate volume upon volume. I feel ashamed when I think how little I have acquired, how very little I know that I might have understood, and what immensely larger acquisitions have been made by those who have never enjoyed half my advantages. There is a boy, only fifteen, who resorts to this museum, and is said to understand its contents better than most of its visitors; and a livery servant, some few years ago, used to spend all his hours of leisure here, and wrote some excellent papers upon historical subjects. If I have gained any good by my journey yet, it is the conviction, I feel growing stronger every day, that I must work,and that every one must work, in order to excel. It seems to me that we are in a fair way to learn much in our present tour, for every day's excursion becomes a matter of regular study when we come to our journal, which is now kept posted up daily, as a thing of course. We are trying, at all events, to make ourselves so familiar with the great attractions of London, that in future life we may understand the affairs of the city when we hear of them.
Yours affectionately,
weld.
London.
Dear Charley:—
Ever since we reached London, I have wanted to go to Woolwich, the great naval arsenal and dockyard, because I expected I should obtain a pretty good idea of the power of the British navy; and then I like to compare such places with our own; and I have often, at Brooklyn Navy Yard, thought how much I should like to see Woolwich. Woolwich is one the Thames, and about ten miles from the city. You can go at any hour by steamer from London Bridge, or take the railway from the Surrey side of the bridge. We were furnished with a ticket of admission from our minister; but unfortunately, we came on a day when the yard was closedby order. We were sadly disappointed, but the doorkeeper, a very respectable police officer, told us that our only recourse was to call on the commanding officer, who lived a mile off, and he kindly gave us a policeman as a guide. On our way, we met the general on horseback, attended by some other officers. We accosted him, and told our case. He seemed sorry, but said the yard was closed. As soon as we mentioned that we came from America, he at once gave orders for our admission, and was very polite. Indeed, on several occasions we have found that our being from the United States has proved quite a passport.
We had a special government order to go over all the workshops and see the steam power, &c., &c. I think I shall not soon forget the wonderful smithery where the Nasmyth hammers are at work, employed in forging chain cables and all sorts of iron work for the men-of-war. We went in succession through the founderies for iron and brass, the steam boiler manufactory, and saw the planing machines and lathes; and as to all the other shops and factories, I can only say, that the yard looked like a city.
We were much pleased with the ships now in progress. One was the screw steamer, the Agamemnon, to have eighty-guns. There, too, is the Royal Albert, of one hundred and twenty guns, which they call the largest ship in the world. Ofcourse, we think this doubtful. It has been nine years in progress, and will not be finished for three more. It is to be launched when the Prince of Wales attains the rank of post captain. We saw, among many other curiosities, the boat in which Sir John Ross was out twenty-seven days in the ice. We went into an immense building devoted to military stores, and in one room we saw the entire accoutrements for ten thousand cavalry, including bridles, saddles, and stirrups, holsters, &c.
The yard is a very large affair, containing very many acres; it is the depository of the cannon belonging to the army and navy for all the region, and there were more than twenty thousand pieces lying upon the ground. Some were very large, and they were of all varieties known in war.
After a delightful hour spent in listening to the best martial music I ever heard played, by the band, we took steamboat for Greenwich, and, landing there, walked to Blackheath, where we had an engagement to dine at Lee Grove with a London merchant. Here we had a fine opportunity to witness the luxury and elegance of English social life. This gentleman, now in the decline of life, has an exquisitely beautiful place, situated in a park of some sixty acres. The railroad has been run through his estate, and, of course, has made it very much more valuable for building; but as it injures the park forthe embellishment of the mansion, it was a fair subject for damages, and the jury of reference gave its proprietor the pretty verdict of eleven thousand pounds. At the table we had the finest dessert which the hothouse can furnish. Our host gave us a very interesting account of his travels in America more than forty years ago. A journey from New York to Niagara, as related by this traveller, was then far more of an undertaking than a journey from New Orleans to New York, and a voyage thence to England, at the present time.
In the evening, we took the cars for London, and reached our comfortable hotel, the Golden Cross, Charing Cross, at eleven o'clock. By the way, we are all very much pleased with the house and its landlord. Mr. Gardiner is a very gentlemanly man, of fine address and acquirements. He has been a most extensive traveller in almost every part of the world, and has a fine collection of paintings, and one of the prettiest cabinets of coins and medals I ever saw. He has a pretty cottage and hothouses four or five miles from the city; and his family resides partly there and at the hotel. The hotel is every thing that can be desired.
A few evenings ago, Mr. Lawrence had a splendidsoirée. There were probably from two to three hundred present. Among the company were Sir David Brewster, Leslie the artist, Miss Coutts, theDuke of Wellington. "The duke," as he is called, is the great man of England. All the people idolize him, and he is known to be a great man. He has become more identified with the history of England for the last forty years than any other man. Of course, he was to us Americans the great man of the country. Whenever I have read of Napoleon, I have had Wellington in my eye, and to see him was next to seeing the emperor. I never expected the pleasure, but here it is allotted me. He is quite an old man in his bearing and gait. He was dressed in a blue coat with metal buttons, wore his star and garter, and had on black tights and shoes. He had been to the opera, and then came to this party. Every one pays the most deferential homage to the old hero. Waterloo and its eventful scenes came directly before me, and I felt almost impatient for our visit to the battle-field.
A gentleman who knows the duke told us that he spends from four to five hours every morning at the Horse Guards in the performance of his duties as commander-in-chief. Although he looks so feeble in the drawing-room, he sits finely on his horse; and when I saw him riding down Piccadilly, he seemed to be full twenty years younger than he was the day before at the party.
We shall always be glad that we came to England in time to see "the duke," and if we livetwenty or thirty years, it will be pleasant to say "I have seen the Duke of Wellington."
Yours affectionately,
george.
London.
Dear Charley:—
I know how curious you are to hear all about the royal exhibition, so I shall do my best to give you such an account of our visits to it as may enable you to get a bird's eye view of the affair.
Almost as soon as I arrived, I determined upon securing season tickets for the boys, in order that they might not only see the pageant of the opening on the 1st of May, but also have frequent opportunities to attend the building and study its contents before the reduced prices should so crowd the palace as to render examination and study nearly impracticable. However, there came a report through all the daily papers that the queen had abandoned the idea of going in person to inaugurate the exhibition, and the sale of tickets flagged, and it was thought prices would be reduced below the three guineas, which had been the rate. I left London for a few days without purchasing, and on my return I called for four season tickets, when, to my surprise, I was told that, just an hour before, orders had beengiven from the board to raise them to four guineas. I at once purchased them, although I regarded the matter as an imposition. A few days after, Prince Albert revoked the action of the board, and orders were issued to refund the extra guinea to all who had purchased at the advanced price. This was easily ascertained by reference to the number on the ticket, and registered at purchase with the autograph of the proprietor. Of course, we saved our four guineas.
For several days before the 1st of May all London, I may say all England, and almost all the world was on tiptoe. Every man, woman, and child talked of "the Crystal Palace, the great exhibition, the queen, and prince Albert."
For a week or two there had been a succession of cold rain storms. Winter had lingered in the lap of April. Men were looking at the 1st of May with gloomy anticipations of hail, rain, snow, and sleet. Barometers were in demand. The 30th of April gave a hail storm! The 1st of May arrives,—the day,—and lo!
"Heaven is clear,And all the clouds are gone."
"Heaven is clear,And all the clouds are gone."
It was as though the windows of heaven were opened to let the glory from above stream through and bless Industry's children, who are about to celebrate their jubilee. The queen, it is said, has a charmas regards the weather. I heard many exclaim, "It is the queen's weather; it is always her luck." Such a sight as that day afforded was never before witnessed, and such a spectacle will probably never again be gazed upon. The streets were thronged early. Every westward artery of the great city pulsated with the living tide that flowed through it. From the far east, where the docks border the Thames, came multitudes, though not exactly stars in the hemisphere of fashion. Ladies in the aristocratic precincts of Belgravia rose at an early hour, and, for once, followed the queen's good, every-day example. The lawyers rushed from Lincoln's and Gray's Inns of Court. The Royal Exchange was so dull at ten o'clock that the very grasshopper on its vane might have been surprised. Holborn was crammed at when in olden time people pressed, and struggled, and strove to see Jack Sheppard, Joshua Wild, Dick Turpin, or any such worthies on their sad way to Tyburn. But it is no gibbet now allures the morbid multitude. They are gayly, gently, and gladly travelling to the home of industry. Among all the pleasant sights that every moment delighted us none were more pleasant than the happy family groups, who, on every side, "push along, keep moving." Just see that mechanic; he looks as proud as a lord,—and why shouldn't he be?—with his wife leaning trustingly, lovingly on his arm.He, good man, has thrown away the saw, or plane, or any other tool of handicraft, and now his little boy—O, the delight, the wonder in that boy's face!—is willingly dragged along. Well, on we go,—driving across what you would call impassable streets, and lo! we are wedged up in a crowd,—and such a crowd,—a crowd of all nations.
At length we reach the palace gates; and there, who can tell the press and strife for entrance. Long and nobly did the police struggle and resist, but at length the outward pressure was omnipotent, and the full tide of lucky ones with season tickets gained, entrance into, not the palace, but the enclosure. Then came order,—breathing space,—tickets were examined, and places assigned on cards, given as we entered into the palace itself. We all obtained good positions—very good ones. This was at eleven o'clock. At about a quarter to twelve, one standing near to us remarked, "She will be to her time; she always is." And he was right; for scarcely had he prophesied before a prolonged shouting told that the queen was coming. "Plumes in the light wind dancing" were the outward and visible signs of the Life Guards, who came gently trotting up. Then came four carriages,—the coachmen and footmen of which were so disguised with gold lace, and wigs, and hair powder, that their mothers wouldn't have known them,—and then the queen—not robedand tricked out like the queens in children's story books, so dreadful as to resemble thunderbolts in petticoats; not hooped, and furbelowed, and stomachered, and embroidered all over, as was Elizabeth; nor with a cap, like Mary, Queen of Scots; not with eight horses prancing before the queen's carriage, but in her private carriage, drawn by two horses. Off went all hats. I wish you could have heard the cheering as the queen entered the wondrous building. O, it was like "the voice of many waters." Such deep, prolonged, hearty cheering I never, heard. As Victoria entered, up went the standard of England, and never before did its folds wave over such a scene. The entrance of majesty was the signal for the organ to play; the vitreous roof vibrates as the sounds fly along the transparent aisles; and we had musical glasses on a large scale. It would require the pen of our favorite Christopher North to describe the magnificent scene when the queen ascended the throne, surrounded by all the elegance and nobility of her kingdom. Her husband reads an address; she replies; the venerable archbishop dedicates the Temple of Industry. The queen declares the palace opened, and the procession is formed to walk through its aisles. No small task this; but then thirty thousand persons are waiting to gaze on the queen and her court. A ludicrous sight it was to see two of England's proudestpeers walking backward before the queen. The Marquis of Westminster and Earl of Breadalbane performed this feat, and glad enough must they have been when they received their dismission. The heralds, some twelve or fourteen, in black velvet, looked finely. The queen walked like a queen, and bore herself nobly and womanly. She is a small figure, fair face, light hair, large, full, blue eyes, plump cheek, and remarkably fine neck and bust. She leaned upon her husband's right arm, holding in her hand the Prince of Wales, while Prince Albert led the princess royal. I was sadly disappointed in the appearance of the Prince of Wales. He is altogether a feeble-looking child, and cannot have much mental force. The princess is a fine, energetic-looking girl. We stood within a yard of the royal party as it passed bowing along. Then came the members of the royal family; and then visitors from Prussia and Holland; the ladies and gentlemen of the queen's household; the cabinet ministers; the foreign ministers; the archbishop in his robe, and the members of the royal commission; the lord mayor of London, and the aldermen. There, too, was Paxton, the architect of this great wonder. It was his day of triumph, and every one seemed to be glad for his fortune. All these were in gorgeous court dresses. I have seen all sorts and kinds of show, but never did I witness such aspectacle as was this day afforded to the congress of the world. The Duke of Wellington, and his companion in arms, the Marquis of Anglesea, walked arm in arm, "par nobilis fratrum." It was Wellington's birthday. He is eighty-two, and Anglesea eighty-one. The Marquis walks well for a man of his age, and who has to avail himself of an artificial leg. They were most enthusiastically cheered in all parts of the house. In the diplomatic corps there was great splendor of costume, but no man carried himself more stately than did Mr. Lawrence, whose fine, manly figure admirably becomes a court dress. I do not think that I ever saw a collection of ladies so plain and homely as the court ladies of Queen Victoria, who walked behind her in procession. The Duchess of Sutherland has been renowned for her majestic beauty; but she ispasse, and her friends are, I think, matchless for entire destitution of personal charms. But there was enough present to atone for the want of this in the royal circle. Some of the most exquisite faces I ever saw were there in those galleries, and forms of beauty that can hardly be surpassed. I was much surprised at noticing in the vast crowd, known to be about thirty thousand, that there were so few lads. I do not believe there were more than ten or fifteen in the palace; and, as we have already said, the absence of lads is owing to their all being at boarding-schools. Our boys, you may well suppose, are greatly pleased with having witnessed the greatest pageant of the age, and one that can never be surpassed. We shall soon be at the exhibition again, and apply ourselves to a careful survey of its interesting contents.
Yours affectionately,
j.o.c.
London.
Dear Charley:—
Now that the excitement consequent on the opening of the Crystal Palace has in some degree subsided and curiosity to a certain extent satisfied, we are enabled to obtain more lucid ideas of this extraordinary building and its wondrous contents. The admission for several days was one pound, and at this high price the visitors were of the most fashionable character. We have been much pleased in looking at the very fine equipages that throng the roads around the park. The carriages, horses, end liveries are in the best possible taste. When we entered, the palace was no longer heightened in splendor by the presence of the sovereign and her brilliant court. The superb canopy which overshadowed thedaison which the gorgeous chair had stood, alone remained to indicate that there England's queen had performed the inaugural rites; but thegreat facts of the exhibition remained. The crystal fountain still played, the magnificent elms appeared in their spring garniture of delicate green beneath the lofty transept, and the myriad works of skill, art, and science lay around, above, and beneath us. I entered the building by its eastern door, and, immediately on passing the screen which interposes between the ticket offices and the interior, the whole extent of the palace of glass lay before me. Fancy yourself standing at the end of a broad avenue, eighteen hundred and fifty feet in length, roofed with glass, and bounded laterally by gayly-decorated, slender pillars. The effect was surpassingly beautiful. Right and left of this splendid nave were other avenues, into which the eyes wandered at will; for no walls, no barriers are to be found in the whole building; all is open, from floor to roof, and from side to side, and from the eastern to the western extremity.
Proceeding westward, I saw the compartments allotted to our own country. The first thing I noticed was a piece of sculpture,—the dying Indian,—a fine production, though perhaps a trifle overdone. Then came an American bridge, which painters were still at work upon; and then, backed by drapery of crimson cloth, that splendid creation of genius, the Greek Slave, which will immortalize the name of Hiram Powers. I shall not, I think, beaccused of national partiality when I assert that this statue is, in sculpture, one of the two gems of the exhibition. Perhaps, if I were not from the United States, I should say it was "the gem." When I come to tell you of the Italian marbles, I shall refer to that production of art which can alone be thought to dispute the palm of superiority with it. Every one expresses the highest admiration at the Slave, and a crowd is constantly around the spot. One old gentleman, who was in an ecstasy over the sculpture, very sharply rebuked a person complaining of the paucity of the American productions, with "Fie,thereis one thing America has sent, that all Europe may admire, and no one in Europe can equal." Turning aside from this "breathing marble," I examined the American exhibition of products and manufactures. I confess to you I felt mortified with the comparative meagreness of our show, because it contrasts poorly with the abundance exhibited by nations far inferior to us in skill and enterprise. Still, we have much to show; but the useful prevails over the beautiful. I am quite sure, too, that there are things here which will compel attention, and carry away calm, dispassionate approbation from the jurors. The United States exhibits numerous specimens of tools, cordage, cotton and woolen fabrics, shawls, colors, prints, daguerreo-types, silver and gold plate, pianos, musical instruments, harnesses, saddlery, trunks, bookbinding, paper hangings, buggies, wagons, carriages, carpetings, bedsteads, boots and shoes, sculls, boats, furs, hair manufactures, lithographs, perfumery, soaps, surgical instruments, cutlery, dentistry, locks, India rubber goods, machinery, agricultural implements, stoves, kitchen ranges, safes, sleighs, maps, globes, philosophical instruments, grates, furnaces, fire-arms of all descriptions, models of railroads, locomotives, &c. You may add to these fine specimens of all our produce, as cotton, sugar, tobacco, hemp, and the mineral ores—iron, lead, zinc, plumbago, tin, and copper, coals of all kinds, preserved meats, &c., &c.
I wish, Charley, you could go with me into a door south of the transept, over which, in oddly-shaped letters, are the words "MEDIÆVAL COURT." The very name reminds one of Popery, Puseyism, and Pugin. This mediæval court absolutely dazzles one's eyes with its splendors. Auriferous draperies line the walls; from the ceiling hang gold and silver lamps—such lamps as are to be seen in Romish chapels before the statues of the Virgin; huge candlesticks, in which are placed enormous candles; Gothic canopies and richly-carved stalls; images of he and she saints of every degree; crucifixes and crosiers; copes and mitres; embroideries, of richest character, are all here—things which the mother of harlots prizes as the chosen instruments by whichshe deceives the nations. And truly beautiful are many of these things as works of art; but it is only as works of art that any Christian can admire them. As I gazed on the rich tissues and golden insignia, I mourned for poor corrupt human nature, to which alone such gewgaws could be acceptable. How would Paul or Peter have stared, had they been required to don such glittering pontificals as are here to be seen! While I feel great respect for Pugin's ability as an architect and designer, I have profound pity for those who are deluded by these gorgeous symbols of a gloomy, cruel, and heartless creed.
There is a large golden cage, not altogether unlike a parrot's; and there is a press, indeed. What calls such attention from the multitude? I join the gazers, and see what at first appears to be three pieces of irregularly-shaped glass, white and glittering; one large piece, about the size of a walnut, and two others a little larger than marbles. What renders that bit of glass so attractive? Glass! no; it is "a gem of purest ray serene"—a diamond—the diamond of diamonds—the largest in the world. In short, it is the Kohinoor; or, as the Orientals poetically called it, "the mountain of light." Its estimated value is two millions sterling—enough to buy the Crystal Palace itself, nine times over. The history of this precious gem is romantically curious.It belonged to Runjeet Sindjb and is now an English trophy.
Let us enter that partially-darkened chamber, and stand before a painted glass window, the production of Bertini, of Milan. I can't describe this extraordinary production. It is illustrative of Dante, and, for brilliancy of color and harmony of combination, it is not surpassed by the much-vaunted specimens of past ages.
"From the sublime to the ridiculous," said Burke, "there is but a step;" and at not much greater distance from this Dantean window is a German toy stand. It is amusing to observe a big, "Tenbroek" sort of son of Allemagne, arranging tiny children's toys. The contrast between the German giant and the petty fabrics he is setting off to the best advantage, provokes a smile.
Let us join the throng rushing into the suite of rooms furnished by the upholsterers of Vienna. These rooms are indeed magnificent, and must afford a high treat to the lovers of wood carving. There is a bookcase, which is almost a miracle of art; the flowers seem to wave, and the leaves to tremble, so nearly do they approach the perfection of nature. Then there is, it is said by judges, the most superb bed in the world; it is literally covered with carvings of the most costly and delicate description. Since the time of the famous Grinling Gibbons, the English carver, nothing has been seen like it. These Austrian rooms are among the great guns of the show, and will repay repeated visits.
Here stands the glorious Amazon of Kiss, of Berlin. This group, of colossal proportions, represents a female on horseback, in the act of launching a javelin at a tiger which has sprung on the fore quarter of her affrighted steed. This is a wonderful work of art, and places its author in the first rank of sculptors. Nothing can surpass the lifelike character of the Amazon's horse and the ferocious beast. As a tribute to the genius of Kiss, a grand banquet is to be given to him by the sculptors and artists of England. Well does he deserve such an honor.
Close by the Amazon is a colossal lion in bronze. This is the softest piece of casting I ever saw; the catlike motion of the paw is perfectly lifelike. I turn back again to that Amazon. I could gaze on the agony of that horse for hours, and think I should continue to discover new beauties.
The Crusader, a colossal equestrian statue of Godfrey of Bouillon, is also very imposing. The entire floor is covered in the centre of the avenue, from east to west, with beautiful statues, models, &c.
We ascended to one of the galleries for the purpose of taking a bird's eye view of the gay, busy scene; and a most splendid scene was thrown opento our gaze. Far as the eye could reach, the building was alive with gayly-dressed people, who, amidst statues, and trophies, and trees, and fountains, wandered as in the groves of some enchanted land. As I strolled onwards, I came to where a tiny fountain sent up its silvery jet ofeau de Cologne, and an assistant of Jean Marie Farina, from a little golden spoon, poured on my handkerchief, unasked, the odoriferous essence. Then we lingered to witness two of the noblest cakes, the sight of which ever gladdened the heart of a bride. Gunter, the great pastry cook, was the architect of the one which was a triumph of taste. The other was adorned with Cupid and Psyche-like emblems. Then came wax flowers, beaded artfully with glass, so as to appear spangled with dewdrops. Then we inspected Cashmere shawls, on which I saw many a lady cast looks, of admiration, and, I almost fancied, of covetousness.
Down again, and we are beneath the transept. Beautiful, head, far higher than the tops of the huge elm-trees, is a crystal arch which spans this intersecting space. Around are marble statues, which gleam lustrously amid the foliage of tropical plants, which, shielded from the chilling air without, seem to be quite at home here. And in the midst up rises Osler's crystal fountain—a splendid affair,twenty-seven feet in height, and consisting of four tons of cut glass. So exquisitely is it arranged that no metal, either of joint or pipe, can be seen. It is "one entire and perfect chrysolite." From its lofty summit issues forth a dome of water, which separates, and falls in prismatic showers into a spacious basin beneath. There are three other fountains, but this is the monarch of all. On either side of this beautiful production of a Birmingham manufacturer are two equestrian statues of the queen and Prince Albert, about which I cannot speak in admiration. Groups of figures line the sides of the transept, and there is a Puck which I would like all friends to look at. O, he is alive with fun, and there marble speaks and laughs.
We have been greatly delighted with the English room of sculpture. There is a fine portrait statue of Flaxman, from the chisel of Franks; a very clever statue of John Wesley; but if I were to chronicle all the sculptures here, I may as well write a catalogue at once. But before I quit the subject of marble, let me just allude to the Italian gallery. There the specimens are indeed exquisite, and remind us that the genius of art yet loves to linger in the "land of the cypress and myrtle"—in that beautiful country
"Where the poet's eye and painter's handAre most divine."
"Where the poet's eye and painter's handAre most divine."
Among the gems of marble is one which I told, you was the only possible rival of Powers's Greek Slave. This lovely production is "the Veiled Vesta." It represents a young and exquisitely-formed girl, kneeling and offering her oblation of the sacred fire. Her face is veiled; but every feature is distinctly visible, as it were, through the folds which cover her face. So wonderfully is the veil-like appearance produced, that myself and others were almost inclined to believe that some trick of art had been practised, and a film of gauze actually hung over the features. It was not so, however; the hard marble, finely managed, alone caused the deception. Raffael Monti, of Milan, is the illustrious artist of "the Veiled Vesta."
One of the most interesting machines in the whole exhibition is the envelope machine of Messrs. De la Rue & Co., of London. In its operations it more resembles the efforts of human intellect than any thing I have seen before in machinery. It occupies but a small space, and is worked by a little boy. In a second, and as if by magic, a blank piece of paper is folded, gummed, and stamped, and, in fact, converted into a perfect envelope. As soon as finished, a pair of steel fingers picks it up, lays it aside, and pushes it out of the way in the most orderly manner possible. These envelopes, so made, are given to all who choose to accept them.Opposite to this machine is the stand of Gillott, of steel pen celebrity. Here are pens of all sizes, and of various materials. One monster pen might fit a Brobdignagian fist, for it is two feet long, and has a nib one quarter of an inch broad; and there are others so small that no one but a Liliputian lady could use them. Between these extremes are others of various dimensions, arranged in a very tasteful manner. Something must be got out of this branch of business, for it is only a month or two since Mr. Gillott purchased an estate for ninety thousand pounds sterling. Here, too, is a novelty—the model of St. Stephen's Church, Bolton, Lancashire. The model and the church itself are both composed of terra cotta. This material was also employed in the construction of the principal fittings, such as the screen, pews, organ gallery, pulpit, &c. This is a new adaptation of terra cotta. The spire severely tests its capabilities, as it is of open Gothic, or tracery work.
A large model of Liverpool is beautifully constructed to scale, and must be the result of immense labor. It is twenty-five feet long, and exhibits at a glance a bird's eye view of the town, the docks, the River Mersey, and the adjacent places. Hundreds of miniature vessels, amongst them the Great Britain, crowd the docks; fleets of merchantmen are seen on the Mersey, sailing to and from the port;and in the busy streets, so minutely delineated that any particular house may be distinguished, numerous vehicles are seen, and hundreds, too, of pygmy men and women are observed walking in the public ways. In short; it is Liverpool in a glass case, and no mean exhibition in itself.
The Thames Plate Glass Company exhibit the largest plate of glass in the world; its dimensions are eighteen feet eight inches by ten feet. There is not a blemish on its brilliant surface, and it is as "true" as possible. It is placed in such a position that it reflects the whole length of the main avenue of the Crystal Palace, and the effect produced is superb. A Catholic bookseller from Belgium makes quite a display of his editions of devotional works for every country under heaven; and there, too, are the effigies of Cardinal Boromeo, Thomas à Becket, and the late Archbishop of Paris, all arrayed in full pontificals. Their crosiers are very richly jewelled. If the apostles of Christ could revisit the earth, they would never fancy that these were their successors in the work and patience of the gospel.
Few things have impressed me more than the exquisite carvings and elaborate work of the cabinet ware; and I must, Charley, try to describe one piece of furniture which excites universal praise. It is a cabinet made by John Stevens, of Taunton. It was prepared at great cost, and is the gem of thecarved work in the exhibition. The wood of which it was composed was a walnut-tree, which, not long ago, flourished near Taunton. In order that you may not suppose, I praise every thing too highly, and without sufficient ground for admiration, I shall give you a particular description of this incomparable piece of furniture. It represents, in four beautifully carved male figures, executed after the style of Gibbons, the periods of Youth, Manhood, Maturity, and Old Age, whilst other four (female) figures, beautifully brought up in good relief, are representative of the Passions. Here there was an opportunity for displaying some fine needlework; and Miss Kingsbury, a lady of the town, who has received from the hand of royalty a reward for her talents, has turned the opportunity to good account, and produced some appropriate work, displaying a skill truly astonishing. This is not the least attractive portion of the cabinet, and, as we shall again, have to advert to it in its order, we leave it for the present. The carved figure of the Youth represents him at twenty years of age. The countenance is finely wrought, and marks the innocency and candor of the young heart; the open brow, the love-lighted eye, all exemplifying characteristics of that period of life, untrammelled with care or anxious thought. In his hair, well brought out from the solid wood, is intertwined the violet, the primrose, and the cow-slip, emblematical of the season—being the spring time of life. In the right hand of the figure is attached a portion of a festoon of carved flowers, which connects it with the other four figures. The left hand is extended, pointing to Manhood. This figure denotes the period when forty summers have ripened the man, and brought the noblest work of God to that stage of his more powerful intellect, his keener judgment, stronger frame, and more lasting energy. These characteristics are most admirably depicted. In his locks are carved the rose, the lily, the pink, and the carnation, the strawberry and the gooseberry—emblematical of the summer time of life. In the right hand the figure receives the festoon of flowers from Youth, and in the left it supports the frame of the cabinet. The festoon is carried on to Maturity, which represents the time when sixty years bring him to the period of decline. Its right hand assists, with the left of that of Manhood, in supporting the cabinet. Encircling his brow are corn ears and wine cups, together with barley, wheat, grapes, and hops, the whole of which are most elaborately and finely chiselled. The hand of Maturity points downward to Old Age. The furrowed brow, the sunken cheek, the dim and glassy eye observable in this figure, conveys the mournful intelligence that the sand of life is fast approaching its last little grain. The bent form and the thoughtfulbrow tell that Time, the consumer of all things, has also ravaged a once erect and powerful frame. The contemplation of this figure, beautifully executed as it is, intuitively inculcates a serious consideration of the value and blessings of a temperate; and well-spent life; it induces a thoughtful reflection that a life of goodness alone insures an end of peace. The holly, the mistletoe, the ivy, the acorn shell, the leafless branch, and the fruitless vine encircle the brow-fit emblems of the period which marks an exchange of time for eternity. All the figures are rendered complete by a carved lion's foot, at the bottom of each, and above the feet is a connecting frame, to make that portion of the stand perfect. Between the figures of Spring and Summer are carved flowers and fruit in great profusion, emblematical of the seasons, and forming a fine piece of work; it represents the all-important fact that time flies, by an hourglass borne on the wings of a splendidly-carved eagle, and suspending from the bird's beak are the letters, curiously wrought, formingTempus Fugit. This rests on a globe, representative of the earth, which is half sunk in a shell of water, overflowing the wheel of time, and shedding on fruit and flowers its refreshing dew. The space between the figures of Autumn and Winter is filled with carvings of the chrysanthemum, holly, ivy, and autumn fruit, intertwined withconsummate skill and taste. The garland, or festoon, which is carried through, and sustained, as before stated, by each of the four figures, is composed of every flower indigenous to this part of the land, and introduced emblematically to the time in which they severally bloom.
Above the figures, and resting on their heads, is a stand or frame to receive the top part, containing the drawers, doors, &c., and is constructed in a peculiar manner on the bevel, that the eye may easily rest on some beautiful lines from Thomson's Seasons. Over the head of Youth, in this frame, is a basket of strawberries, cherries, raspberries, and early fruit, surrounded with leaf work, enclosing a panel of needlework, covered with bent plate glass, and the motto,—
"——— Chief, lovely Spring,In these and thy soft scenes the smiling God is seen."
"——— Chief, lovely Spring,In these and thy soft scenes the smiling God is seen."
Then follows the carved figure representing Summer. Over the head of it is a basket, containing currants, strawberries, gooseberries, apples, pears, peaches, and other fruits, enriched with leaf work, the lily and the rose completing the centre. Between the Summer and Autumn baskets and a panel are the following mottoes, each season having one:—
"Child of the sun! refulgent Summer comes,In pride of youth;While Autumn, nodding o'or the yellow plain,Comes jovial on."
"Child of the sun! refulgent Summer comes,In pride of youth;While Autumn, nodding o'or the yellow plain,Comes jovial on."
Then follows the Autumn basket, containing grapes, pears, filberts, &c., surrounded with leaf work. The panel of needlework next appears for Winter, with these lines:—