Part 3 — Postscript. THE EXHIBITION OPENED.

The first of May, eighteen hundred and fifty-one, was a day to be remembered to all time! On it the nations of the earth combined together to “make history,” in a manner they had never done before;—in one also, which, in its prominent peculiarity, can never be repeated. There may be similar Exhibitions in future periods of the world’s progress, but the first can never be again. Even respecting those which may be imagined to occur, although they may be distinguished by new features and characteristics of their own, and though these may, in some respects, surpass those of the one now opened, they cannot be anticipated with that depth of interest, nor excite by their inauguration those profound emotions, which preceded and distinguished the sublime event which has just taken place. The preceding pages were written in the prospect of that event, and were intended to appear before its occurrence. The author cannot regret, however, that circumstances interfered with the fulfilment of his purpose, since to this he is indebted for the opportunity of adding a supplementary section to his little work, commemorative of the grand and magnificent ceremonial of which he was privileged to be a spectator.

It is not the writer’s intention to attempt to describe the opening of the Exhibition, with all that minuteness of detail in respect to what occurred in the interior of the structure,—or with those stirring delineations of the bustle and excitement, the lines of carriages and congregated crowds, that imparted animation to the scene without,—which have already been furnished by the public prints. He merely wishes to note a few things which were interesting or suggestive to his own mind, and especially such as were felt to be in harmony with the spirit and object of the present volume.

It was his good fortune to obtain admittance into the Palace of Industry, on the memorable morning of the first of May, before the gates were opened to the public. He had traversed it frequently during the previous weeks, and had seen it in various stages of its progress. One morning, in March, he was there so early, that while walking along its galleries he observed that he was the only visitor upon them at that moment. Few of the counters were then erected, hardly any of the articles unpacked;—the wide spaces and vast dimensions of the wonderful structure spread before him in clear and unobstructed perspective;—there was something, too, of solitariness in his position, though multitudes of workmen were occupied below, above, and around him;—the whole scene, from its simple magnitude, was inexpressibly sublime; it stirred within him thoughts and feelings which were not, indeed, “too deep for tears,” but which could only find utterance and relief in their indulgence; while, as he passed on, and for the first time saw the compartments of the different countries, and read the names of the various nations that were preparing to stand, side by side, in peaceful rivalry,—his emotions deepened to an intensity which it was difficult to bear, and which cannot be described! He was in the building, also, for some time, three days before the opening, and could then form some idea of what would be the number and variety of its contents; though so much, even at that late period, remained to be done, that he wondered how it would be possible for the preparations to be finished by the time appointed. As, however, he walked into the transept, when that time had come,—approached the centre,—and looked along the naves stretching to such an extent on either side,—it was not without a feeling of admiration and surprise, mingled with something of solemnity and awe, that he looked on the splendid and gorgeous spectacle that stood revealed in all its completeness!

The mere material scene was sublime when beheld by itself,—empty, and comparatively still; but much more impressive and affecting was it, when filled with its immense multitude of spectators. There was much that was stirring in the sight of the rush and inundation of the crowd, as it kept flowing in, in vast waves, at every opening; and much that was impressive when the noise and murmur of its movements had subsided,—when all had found or had been forced into their places,—and when floor and gallery, and every part that the eye could reach, was seen to be occupied by human beings,—by an assembly larger than any that had ever, in England, been congregated before under one roof,—and by one that had met for an object, and under circumstances, unparalleled in the annals of the world!

Men see in all external events and objects, what the light that is in them reveals. Things are, to us, what we are to them. He that visits foreign countries, brings back according to what he takes. The same sight may be a very different thing to two different persons, in proportion as they may differ in knowledge, in opinion, in taste, in sympathies. The eye of a clown may look on a prospect that in some souls would produce rapture or occasion tears, with hardly more intelligence than that of the ox that he drives before him. The outside of things is open to all; their inner significance is revealed only to those who have an inner eye to read it; and even such significance may be differently interpreted according as the eye is influenced and affected by the degree of intelligence, the tendencies, and the tastes of the inward man to whom it belongs. It is quite possible that some may see nothing in the great Exhibition but an ordinary, though enormous, fancy bazaar; and that others saw nothing in the ceremonial of the opening but a state pageant, court dresses, and an immense crowd of men and women! It is quite possible, too, that some of the incidents of the day, which appeared to us touching in themselves, or pregnant with meaning, were indebted for this to the capricious activity of our own fancy, as well as to their inherent beauty or significance. But, however this may have been, there certainly were some things that we felt to be deeply interesting as they occurred, and remarkably suggestive as illustrating the character and tendencies of the event. We shall not attempt to recall all that struck us at the time; but a few words may not be amiss on what immediately bore, or appeared to us to bear, on some of the topics of this book.

On getting a sight of the catalogue of the Exhibition,—which we did before entering the interior of the building,—we were gratified to find on the cover and the title-page:

We were aware that this was to be the English motto, and that two Latin ones had also been selected. We were glad to find the Divine sentence placed where it was, and placed by itself; that it stood, as it were, in front of the Nations as they joined one another, and moved towards the great point of attraction; that it faced them, and spoke as with the voice of an oracle; that while the words of men occupied their proper subordinate position behind those of the book of God—out of sight—needing, as it were, to be sought for, and found, and solicited to announce themselves,—these stood in their solitary majesty, revealing themselves by their own light, claiming to speak as having a right to be heard, and authoritatively announcing to the diversified tribes and peoples of the earth, and to every visitant of the palace of wonders, Whose they themselves were, and to whom belonged all they saw.

This volume was written and in the press before we were aware that the inscription on the Exchange was to be the motto of the Exhibition; otherwise, the natural course would have been, to have taken the words in their latter use rather than the former, and thus to have expounded and illustrated what England actually does say to herself and the nations through the medium of the event which is bringing them together. When we first heard of what was to be the English motto of the catalogue, we were exceedingly disposed to wish it could be given in the words of the authorized version (those on the Exchange) “The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof,” instead of those of the translation in the Prayer-book, “The earth is the Lord’s, and all that therein is.” On further reflection, however, we are willing to think, that while the two expressions are substantially the same, there is just that shade of difference between them that fits each for its respective position; “the fulness of the earth” being most appropriate to a commercial edifice,—“all that therein is” to an industrial exhibition. However this may be, it was to us, as may be supposed, a gratifying circumstance that the first sight that met our eye, on the very threshold, or in the porch of the Palace of Industry, while making our way to the opening ceremonial, was that which assured us, that the words whose import we had been endeavouring to illustrate in “a book for the Exhibition,” were to lie beneath the eye, and to address themselves to the reason and the religious consciousness, of every individual by whom it would be visited.

The recognition of God, in connexion with the Exhibition, has always marked the references to it of its most distinguished promoter. The religious services on the day of the opening were solemn and appropriate, and seemed at once to crown and sanctify the work. “I confidently hope,”—said his Royal Highness, Prince Albert, at the banquet at the Mansion-house, in honour of the undertaking,—“I confidently hope, that the first impression which the view of this vast collection will produce upon the spectator, will be that of deep thankfulness to the Almighty for the blessings which he has bestowed upon us here below.” It was a most impressive sight, on the opening of the splendid spectacle thus anticipated, to see some twenty-five or thirty thousand people, all under the influence of a sentiment of reverence, deeply calm, serious, and still, uniting in an act of solemn devotion, while the highest ecclesiastical dignitary in the land, standing by the side of our august sovereign, who seemed to bow in humility before the footstool of Him who is “the King of kings,” expressed in a manner the most appropriate, the “deep thankfulness” of the vast assembly “for the blessings which the Almighty has bestowed upon us,” and acknowledged Him in the riches of nature and the wonders of art with which the edifice was filled! Every reader will probably have seen the prayer to which we thus refer. It seems, however, not inappropriate to give it a place in these pages; the more so as its sentiments are so in harmony with many of those we have been attempting to express. It was as follows:

“Almighty and everlasting God, who dost govern all things both in heaven and in earth, without whom nothing is strong, nothing is holy, accept, we beseech Thee, the sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving, and receive these our prayers which we offer up unto Thee this day on behalf of the kingdom and people of this land. We acknowledge, O Lord, that Thou hast multiplied on us blessings which Thou mightest most justly have withheld. We acknowledge that it is not because of works of righteousness which we have done, but of Thy great mercy, that we are permitted to come before Thee with the voice of thanksgiving, and that instead of humbling us for our offences, Thou hast given us cause to thank Thee for Thine abundant goodness. And now, O Lord, we beseech Thee to bless the work which Thou hast enabled us to begin, and to regard with Thy favour our purpose of knitting together in the bonds of peace and concord the different nations of the earth; for with Thee, O Lord, is the preparation of the heart in man. Of Thee it cometh that violence is not heard in our land, wasting nor destruction within its borders. It is of Thee, O Lord, that nations do not lift up the sword against each other nor learn war any more; it is of Thee that peace is within our walls and plenteousness within our palaces; it is of Thee that knowledge is increased throughout the world, for the spirit of man is from Thee, and the inspiration of the Almighty giveth him understanding. Therefore, O Lord, not unto us, not unto us, but unto Thy name be all the praise. While we survey the works of art and industry which surround us, let not our hearts be lifted up that we forget the Lord our God, as if our own power and the might of our hands had gotten in this wealth. Teach us ever to remember that all this store which we have prepared cometh of Thine hand and is all Thine own. Both riches and honour come of Thee, and thou reignest over all. In Thine hand it is to make great and to give strength unto all. Now, therefore, O God, we thank Thee; we praise Thee and intreat Thee so to overrule this assembly of many nations, that it may tend to the advancement of Thy glory, to the diffusion of Thy Holy Word, to the increase of general prosperity, by promoting peace and goodwill among the different races of mankind. Let the many mercies which we receive from Thee dispose our hearts to serve Thee more faithfully, who art the Author and Giver of them all. And finally, O Lord, teach us so to use those earthly blessings which Thou givest us richly to enjoy, that they may not withdraw our affections from those heavenly things which Thou hast prepared for those that love and serve Thee, through the merits and mediation of Thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom, with Thee and the Holy Ghost, be all honour and glory.”

Prince Albert, after having, in the words above quoted, expressed his hope respecting the religious impression to be produced by the Exhibition, proceeded to say that he trusted its second lesson would be, “the conviction” that the full enjoyment of the blessings of Providence “could be realized only in proportion to the help we are prepared to render to each other; therefore only by peace, love, and ready assistance, not only between individuals, but between the Nations of the earth.” The opening ceremonial of the first of May, was an impressive commentary on this sentiment. Within the same building were congregated the representatives of many nations, and people from every quarter of the globe. All met and mingled together in perfect harmony, and seemed at once disposed to regard each other with fraternal cordiality, and to be pervaded and possessed by those sentiments which are nourished and developed by the sunlight of love. Everybody seemed bright; good-humoured; happy; willing to please and to be pleased! It was as if all the world had met to celebrate the arrival or reign of universal concord. The Palace of Industry was the Temple of Peace. There were some military uniforms, and a few soldiers here and there, but no one thought of fighting! It was not a battle,—it was not even a review. It was not War when merely making a holiday; showing himself off in his fine clothes to a gaping multitude, and startling or amusing them by his gigantic sport. A little boy—a child of some five or six years old—while we were all waiting for the coming of the Queen, got away from his mother, or sister, ran into the midst of the central crowd of dignitaries and diplomatists, walked up the steps of the platform on which was the chair of state, turned round and stood looking about happy and delighted, and then went back again to the cover of the wing from which he had escaped! The whole thing showed such a sense of security,—such a feeling in the boy that there was nothing to frighten him or to hurt him there,—that he appeared like an impersonation of the spirit of the place. He could not have done or felt as he did in any assembly of thirty thousand people that ever met in the world before within the same walls. Such assemblages there have been, and larger,—but they met for purposes of cruelty and blood,—to see men fight with beasts or with each other. In the Crystal Palace is mirrored, we trust, the dawn at least of the predicted day, when “the wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; AND A LITTLE CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM.”

Then there was to be seen for some time in apparently friendly conversation, the Iron Duke and the Lancashire cotton-spinner;—Wellington and Cobden;—the man of war and the apostle of peace! It was a suggestive sight. The old soldier did a great and necessary work in his day. By his decisive stroke at the battle of Waterloo, he terminated the protracted contentions of Europe, and gave to us, as a nation, a peace that has continued for thirty-five years. To that prolonged peace, we are in a great measure indebted for the Exhibition of Industry. It would not have been improper, therefore, if, while looking on the scene he had lived to witness,—a scene that glorified his own eighty-second birthday, and which was so different from all that he had been familiar with in his youth,—it would not have been improper if the military veteran had felt that there was a connexion between what he saw and what he had done. Than he, we believe, there is no one more aware of the horrors of war, or who would more bitterly lament its necessity;—and though he can hardly be expected to think Peace Societies the sole or best defence of a nation, it is not to be doubted that he would welcome “permanent and universal peace,” and that he rejoices in an enterprise that may help to secure it. There they were, then,—two representative and typical men;—side by side;—talking like brothers! There they were;—the one the monument of a past age,—the other the personal prophecy of a coming one. The one the chronicle of bygone times, when nations thought themselves “natural enemies,” and men knew of no arbiter but the sword;—the other the advocate of another arbitration, and the apostle of the industrial intercourse of the world. The one was old,—the other young. Let us hope that this, too, was a type of the principles they respectively represented;—that that of appealing and trusting to the sword, is past its vigour and is falling into decay,—while that of uniting by mutual benefits, and of superseding the arguments of brute force by those of reason and love, is in its prime and manhood, and has before it a long period of service. There are a few specimens of cannon in the Exhibition, but there are far more of agricultural instruments. The time will come when none of the former will find their place in any collection of the works of “Industry,”—except, it may be, some that shall be preserved as curious, though sad and humiliating, relics of a former age. “Weapons of war” are destined to disappear, and to give place to the engine and the compass,—the press and the tool-chest,—the plough and the pruning-hook!

The incidents thus referred to, were felt to be suggestive of many thoughts in harmony with the sentiment last quoted from the speech of Prince Albert. That sentiment, however, received ampler illustration by what was seen on the reading of the address of the Commissioners to her Majesty,—by the closing language of that address itself,—and by her Majesty’s reply. The procession that approached the throne for the presentation of the address, consisted not only of Englishmen headed by the Consort of the Sovereign, but of the foreign representatives of twenty-six different nations, states, or kingdoms. These, for the time, were all ONE;—one body,—filled with one sentiment, pervaded, as it were, by one soul;—and they all united in uttering through their common head, in the name of their several countries, and in the presence of a multitude almost as mixed and multifarious as themselves, the following words:—

“It is our heartfelt prayer that this undertaking, which has for its end the promotion of all branches of human industry, and the strengthening of the bonds of peace and friendship AMONG ALL NATIONS OF THE EARTH, may, by the blessing of Divine Providence, conduce to the welfare of your Majesty’s people, and be long remembered among the brightest circumstances of your Majesty’s peaceful and happy reign.”

It was a great thing to see the representatives of Austria and Denmark, France and Belgium, Prussia and Germany, Russia and Rome, Spain and Portugal, Turkey and Tuscany, the United States, Tunis, Sardinia, Greece, and of many other lands, joining together in the expression of a common hope, and the utterance of a united prayer, that what they were doing might “strengthen the bonds of peace and friendship among all the nations of the earth;” and to think, too, that they did this, not only in their own names, and in those of their respective countries, but in the name of all lands and peoples in the world that might have any contribution in the Exhibition, whether they had personal representatives among the Commissioners or not. The closing paragraph of her Majesty’s reply echoed the closing sentiment of the address,—a sentiment that came to her like an utterance from the heart of universal humanity! It was an over-powering sight, by the way,—that of one so young, elevated in the midst of so vast a multitude, and virtually receiving the homage of so many nations:

Although the closing passage in her Majesty’s speech is that to which we confine our attention, as the speech itself is very brief, we give it entire:

“I receive with the greatest satisfaction the address which you have presented to me on the opening of this Exhibition.

“I have observed with a warm and increasing interest the progress of your proceedings in the execution of the duties intrusted to you by the Royal Commission; and it affords me sincere gratification to witness the successful result of your judicious and unremitting exertions in THE SPLENDID SPECTACLE by which I am this day surrounded.

“I cordially concur with you in the prayer, that by God’s blessing this undertaking may conduce to the welfare of my people, and to the common interests of the human race, by encouraging the arts of peace and industry, strengthening the bonds of union among the nations of the earth, and promoting a friendly and honourable rivalry in the useful exercise of those faculties which have been conferred by a beneficent Providence for the good and the happiness of mankind.”

But we must draw to a close. There were many other incidents on which we could willingly linger, as illustrative of the views we had always indulged of the character and tendencies of the great experiment. The union in one edifice of such an unprecedented number of human beings, was itself a most imposing and magnificent spectacle. The Queen appeared to feel this. As she stood in a position to command a view of the vast spaces of the building, all of which were densely filled, she seemed impressed with a sense of awe at the sublime spectacle, and could not help, even during the reading of the address of the Commissioners, partially withdrawing her attention from them, to steal a glance at “the splendid spectacle by which she was surrounded.” That spectacle, however, partook of the tender, the beautiful, and the domestic even, as well as the sublime. Into it, the Queen and her illustrious Consort came, each leading by the hand one of their children! Up and down, through and amongst that mass of people, they moved together in the same manner. Pomp and state were in some degree laid aside, and the sovereign, for the time, seemed to have become one with the people. She was received with affection, as well as loyalty; and appeared to enjoy and to acknowledge her reception, not so much as a crowned Queen, as a happy woman, an elated wife, and a loving mother! It must have been the most wonderful hour in the whole life of Prince Albert,—that hour of the opening of the Exhibition!—intense must have been the feelings with which he looked on the realization of his great idea; the end of so much anxiety; the commencement of the harvest of so much hope! Everything was propitious. The sun in the heavens shone down upon the scene with unwonted brightness, as if He who “sits in the centre” thereof, approved the undertaking and blessed it from on high. There was not an accident of any sort,—nothing for one moment to excite alarm, to produce panic, or occasion apprehension in the mind of the assembly. In spite of the tens of thousands that filled it, in no part of the edifice was there crack or strain, the indication of weakness, or any sign of insecurity. The outdoor crowds, instead of being disposed to rudeness or riot, or capable of being excited to tumult and rebellion (!), would seem to have been more than usually pacific; a sort of restraint appears to have been upon the worst even of those who congregate on such occasions; for, on the following day, there were no cases of either quarrels or robberies such as ordinarily attend state pageants and civic processions. The royal Patrons of peace and industry retired from the scene in which they had developed a new phase of royalty, and read a new lesson to kings, amid the benedictions and prayers of the multitude with whom they had met and mingled. They could not but retire happy and glad; grateful to God for what they had witnessed, and what they had done; and, in the fulness of their emotions of devout thankfulness, like David, perhaps, “returned home to bless their household.” As it is not likely that anything will occasion a greater gathering of the populace in the parks, in connexion with the Exhibition, and as the ceremony of the opening has given such a glow of cheerfulness and confidence to the public mind, it is to be hoped that the many prophecies and prognostications of evil, which some have indulged in, will now cease, and that all will unite, by cordial sympathy with the great object, and fervent prayer to Almighty God, to seek the realization of those peaceful, patriotic, and world-wide results, which many of the wise and good hope that “the Great Exhibition” may be an instrument in the hand of Providence to secure, and which as Englishmen, Christians, and lovers of our kind, we ought all constantly and earnestly to pursue. In this way, every devout man may help to hasten that anticipated FUTURE, some of the general characteristics of which we have endeavoured to deduce from the Scriptural motto on the books of the Exhibition. Of that period a pregnant and impressive type was presented in the opening ceremonial, when, in the bearing of all the nations of the earth, representatively present in the spacious edifice, there rose up,—to the praise and glory of that God, “whose is the earth and the fulness thereof, the world and they that dwell therein,” and to whom we are indebted not only for “all the blessings of this life,” but for “the means of grace, and the hope of glory,”—the grand, solemn, prophetic song,—

With the following stanzas, descriptive of the different parts of the scene thus reviewed, we here close our pleasant labour:

London: Printed by William Tyler, Bolt-Court.

In the Press, and shortly will be published.

FRENCH AND GERMAN EDITIONS OF THE ROYAL EXCHANGE AND THE PALACE OF INDUSTRY.

UNIFORM WITH THE PRESENT VOLUME.

Just published.

THE PALACE OF GLASS AND THE GATHERING OF THE PEOPLE.

A BOOK FOR THE EXHIBITION.

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