Blondin was the “lion” of the day, now he is a very lamb—equally as clever, it must be admitted, as when he first came in our midst, but the novelty has worn off, as the novelty wore off some years before with Van Ambrugh.
Peace, who was a lover of daring deeds and adventure, perhaps more than anyone else, could not leave London without seeing the prince of rope performers. He, therefore, determined upon paying a visit to the palace at Sydenham.
He was not a man easily moved to terror, but it has been said, and it would be useless to attempt to gainsay it, that somewhere deep down in the human heart there is a corner devoted to the instinct of horror.
This fact has been evidenced at all times and in all ages, and although the world is said to have grown more civilised since the days of gladiatorial exhibitions in ancient Rome, when gaily dressed ladies placidly witnessed a man being devoured by wild beasts, the love of the horrible still remains.
Blondin, when he first came into this country, revived in the British breast the old feeling of the Romans in the circus.
His daring deeds on the high rope, which, to say the truth, were appalling to witness, drew a greater concourse of people to the Crystal Palace than any other has done either before or since.
He was the rage. Tens of thousands of wondering eyes were rivetted on him as he performed such dexterous feats on the rope. People were fascinated as they watched the acrobat play with the chance of death at such a dizzy height.
We are a Christian people, much given to church and chapel going, and it would be rank heresy therefore to say that our natures would revolt at the sight of a martyr bound to a stake.
Happily the days are over for such an exhibition. The days are past also for bull baiting, badger baiting, cock fighting, and even for fistic contests.
Nevertheless, we expect human nature is much the same as it was hundreds of years ago.