A BISHOP ON "THINGS SOLID."
The Bishop of Oxford and Oil-cum-Honey made a beautiful speech at the Mansion House in favour of the Albert Memorial. Never did tongue talk more silverly for bronze. Nevertheless, there is a passage in the episcopal harangue—(let us not forget to observe, it is reported of the Bishop that in his guilelessness he is wholly unaware of the road from Oxford to Lambeth)—a passage relating to "things solid" that somewhat puzzles us. Samuel of Oxford observed (and Mr. Samuel Carter Hall, who, he said, "represented the artists," smiled and applauded the words) that—
"It is of the very nature of things solid that, instead of being borne along upon the surface of the stream of time, they sink gradually down beneath its waters; and, therefore, with regard to this great fact—and a great fact I hold it to have been—if any memorial is to be raised at all, I think it should be raised while yet the memory of its greatness holds its true place in the impression of those by whom it was witnessed."
Because, if Prince Albert has not a monument in bronze to remind the short memory of human nature that there was once a Crystal Palace in Hyde Park, the recollection of that great fact, being a "thing solid," will gradually sink down into the waters of oblivion. Just as, doubtless, we should have forgotten Waterloo and its results, if certain ladies of England had not set up a statue of Wellington acting Achilles in Hyde Park. Well, we have a notion that the best and most enduring monument to the memory of the fleeting Crystal Palace in the Park will be provided by the enduring glory, even at the present time, crowning Sydenham Hill.
We have the greatest admiration of the intellectual subtleties of the Bishop of Oxford. Like an olive, his nature secretes its own oil. Nevertheless, we should have liked to hear other bishops upon "things solid." Where was the Bishop of London? Is it possible that any churchman can speak upon better authority, from deeper experience of "things solid," than the teacher of Fulham? Why, then, was the chief power of illustrations of the "solids" of this life merely required of Samuel of Oxon? Moreover, Prince Albert is, it seems, to have the statue: and among the alto-reliefs will, doubtless, be Challis reading his patent of baronetcy.
The thing is decided upon. So gentlemen, unbutton your pockets; and down with the pounds—the "things solid," if we mistake not, Bishop of Oxford.