Letter 16.
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 the dais on which the gorgeous chair had stood, alone remained to indicate that there England's queen had performed the inaugural rites; but the great 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, be accused 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, there is 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 which she 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.