DOI Heft:
July to December, 1852
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16610#0009
A "SMALL" GAGGLE AT THE CRYSTAL
PALACE.
W'E welcome a little pamphlet by one " John Small, Fetter Lane,"
'* in reprobation of the resolution to place the Crystal Palace at
Sydenham, as an offshoot from the Brighton Railway. We welcome it:
for nothing Great ever yet succeeded that was not first hissed at
by something very Small. We therefore hail the voice of Small as a
happy omen. We receive his arguments as witches say their prayers—
backwards: and therefore count Small—"but that's not much"—
amongst the Crystal champions, who shout " Hey for Sydenham, by
the Brighton Rail! "
Nevertheless, Small shall be heard in his own tones. " The public,"
says Small, " has an insuperable dislike to go East." The wise men
of the public came from that point. " If it [the public] goes to
Greenwich, it is but once a year: and a day's fling amongst citizens,
coalmen, shop-boys, and domestic servants "—Small speaks of such
folks as becomes a Fetter Lane aristocrat—" will not do as a com-
mercial reliance for an enterprise which is to stand all the year and
every year." Small suggests a south-western site: hundreds of
thousands, he says, journey to Hampton Court: and wherefore, oh,
Smallest of the Small? Because, at Hampton Court, there are
Hampton Gardens. Now, at Sydenham there will be Crystal Palace
Gardens! Given the attraction, shall we not inevitably find the
visiting hundreds of thousands. Folks—those wretched people, the
what-d'ye-call-'em—yes, artisans, and so forth, go in multitudes " once
a year" [twice] into Greenwich; and wherefore only twice ? Because
only twice a year is aught to be seen at all worthy of the holyday.
No : the thousands steam on to Rosherville ; even as the thousands go
to Hampton. Now, take Rosherville, Richmond, and Hampton •
multiply all their combined attractions, five hundred or five thousand
fold, and place them under that Firmament of Crystal, in that Garden
of Eden in which Paxton shall be the great Adam,—and with snow on
our house-tops, we shall have—yes, even artisans, with their wives and
children, swarms of them—think of that, oh Small, amid your barbaric
gold and pearl of Fetter Lane—swarms of them at Sydenham sauntering
through orange-groves, wondering at bread-trees, beholding ginger
yet green, oh, Small—and breathing Ind and Araby. And this,
not to the south-west, but with nostrils south-east of London. We
shall not wonder to see Small himself, or one of his numerous
^ribe, gamboling, and after his own way, cracking his jokes on a
cocoa-tree.
But Small's aspirations and yearnings lie west; for westward live
dukes, and earls, and viscounts, dear to the small pin's-head heart of
Small. " The public," says Small, " cannot feel the same confidence
in these men"—such folks, for instance, as one Joseph Paxton, and
individuals called Fox and Henderson, and Owen Jones, and men of
that sort of name—"cannot hold them," says Small, "to be the
creators and trustees of a national work, as the Exeter Hall men might
have been; " and then Small counts off upon his glowing finger-tips
the names of dukes, and earls, and viscounts. Small is very great on
this point. It is acknowledged that in England the nobility do every-
thing—the people nothing. We forget the name of the Duke who
engineered the Thames Tunnel; mankind do not remember the
Marquis who demonstrated and carried out the Electric Telegraph;
nay, so oblivious are we of noble benefactors, that even the name of the
Earl who established the Penny Postage, for the moment escapes us.
Now, "untitled Directors "—writes a " Brighton Shareholder," making
Small the very least, indeed—"did actually serve the Palace—did pay
money down to rescue it—did raise £500,000 to perpetuate it in all its
glory—and did secure the names of Paxton, Fox, Wyatt, and Owen
Jones, to the back of the bill which they have drawn upon public con-
fidence, as a guarantee that the large amount raised shall be well spent,
and the national undertaking nobly carried out." And truly, these
gentlemen (there is not a Duke among them) bring very decent cha-
racters from their last place—tbeir Crystal House in Hyde Park.
But Small has, no doubt, a few flower-pots of land on the South-
western line: haply, he may have a few shares. And that may be the
reason he cannot abide Sydenham; that the cause that fills the
public with " an insuperable dislike to go East."
But Small, very fine by degrees, gets beautifully less as he proceeds
in his theme ; and at last becomes so diminished, that he is no longer
visible to the naked eye. Even as the minutest of insects, engendered
in bad vinegar, he must be put under a microscope, ere, like the show-
man's hippopotamus, we can duly consider him "from the end of the
snout to the tip of the tail."
MR. G. F. YOUNG'S WONDERFUL GOOSE.
HE learned birds of Mlle.
Vandermeersch are very
wonderful—but so is Mr. G.
F. Young's goose. That gen-
tleman has instructed the sa-
gacity of a goose to such a
point of intelligence, that its
performances—hitherto given
in private—have met with rap-
turous commendation. Last
week Mr. Young's goose per-
formed before Lord Derby
and party. We will _ briefly
describe the entertainment.
The whole alphabet, in barley bread, is laid before the goose : when
the sagacious bird, at the given signal, picks out, eating each letter, the
letters—" P.R.O.T.E.C.T.I.O.N." The goose is said to be the only
creature at present believing in what it swallows.
The Progress of Conversion.
Conversion is a word which is continually startling the eyes of
those who read the newspapers. A short time ago, Rome was making
numerous converts. She has not made so many lately, thanks to the
rebuff which his papal Holiness has experienced here. Spain is just
now more particularly figuring in the conversion way, her government
having converted certain bonds and coupons; in other words, the Spanish
Debt. Convert, the Spaniards call it, as the wise, according to Pistol,
call it convey. The Apostle of this Spanish conversion is that particularly
holy man, S. Hieronymus Diddler.
The Kindest of Men.—A Sheriff's officer is a man who never
leaves another in Distress !
Vol. 23.
1
PALACE.
W'E welcome a little pamphlet by one " John Small, Fetter Lane,"
'* in reprobation of the resolution to place the Crystal Palace at
Sydenham, as an offshoot from the Brighton Railway. We welcome it:
for nothing Great ever yet succeeded that was not first hissed at
by something very Small. We therefore hail the voice of Small as a
happy omen. We receive his arguments as witches say their prayers—
backwards: and therefore count Small—"but that's not much"—
amongst the Crystal champions, who shout " Hey for Sydenham, by
the Brighton Rail! "
Nevertheless, Small shall be heard in his own tones. " The public,"
says Small, " has an insuperable dislike to go East." The wise men
of the public came from that point. " If it [the public] goes to
Greenwich, it is but once a year: and a day's fling amongst citizens,
coalmen, shop-boys, and domestic servants "—Small speaks of such
folks as becomes a Fetter Lane aristocrat—" will not do as a com-
mercial reliance for an enterprise which is to stand all the year and
every year." Small suggests a south-western site: hundreds of
thousands, he says, journey to Hampton Court: and wherefore, oh,
Smallest of the Small? Because, at Hampton Court, there are
Hampton Gardens. Now, at Sydenham there will be Crystal Palace
Gardens! Given the attraction, shall we not inevitably find the
visiting hundreds of thousands. Folks—those wretched people, the
what-d'ye-call-'em—yes, artisans, and so forth, go in multitudes " once
a year" [twice] into Greenwich; and wherefore only twice ? Because
only twice a year is aught to be seen at all worthy of the holyday.
No : the thousands steam on to Rosherville ; even as the thousands go
to Hampton. Now, take Rosherville, Richmond, and Hampton •
multiply all their combined attractions, five hundred or five thousand
fold, and place them under that Firmament of Crystal, in that Garden
of Eden in which Paxton shall be the great Adam,—and with snow on
our house-tops, we shall have—yes, even artisans, with their wives and
children, swarms of them—think of that, oh Small, amid your barbaric
gold and pearl of Fetter Lane—swarms of them at Sydenham sauntering
through orange-groves, wondering at bread-trees, beholding ginger
yet green, oh, Small—and breathing Ind and Araby. And this,
not to the south-west, but with nostrils south-east of London. We
shall not wonder to see Small himself, or one of his numerous
^ribe, gamboling, and after his own way, cracking his jokes on a
cocoa-tree.
But Small's aspirations and yearnings lie west; for westward live
dukes, and earls, and viscounts, dear to the small pin's-head heart of
Small. " The public," says Small, " cannot feel the same confidence
in these men"—such folks, for instance, as one Joseph Paxton, and
individuals called Fox and Henderson, and Owen Jones, and men of
that sort of name—"cannot hold them," says Small, "to be the
creators and trustees of a national work, as the Exeter Hall men might
have been; " and then Small counts off upon his glowing finger-tips
the names of dukes, and earls, and viscounts. Small is very great on
this point. It is acknowledged that in England the nobility do every-
thing—the people nothing. We forget the name of the Duke who
engineered the Thames Tunnel; mankind do not remember the
Marquis who demonstrated and carried out the Electric Telegraph;
nay, so oblivious are we of noble benefactors, that even the name of the
Earl who established the Penny Postage, for the moment escapes us.
Now, "untitled Directors "—writes a " Brighton Shareholder," making
Small the very least, indeed—"did actually serve the Palace—did pay
money down to rescue it—did raise £500,000 to perpetuate it in all its
glory—and did secure the names of Paxton, Fox, Wyatt, and Owen
Jones, to the back of the bill which they have drawn upon public con-
fidence, as a guarantee that the large amount raised shall be well spent,
and the national undertaking nobly carried out." And truly, these
gentlemen (there is not a Duke among them) bring very decent cha-
racters from their last place—tbeir Crystal House in Hyde Park.
But Small has, no doubt, a few flower-pots of land on the South-
western line: haply, he may have a few shares. And that may be the
reason he cannot abide Sydenham; that the cause that fills the
public with " an insuperable dislike to go East."
But Small, very fine by degrees, gets beautifully less as he proceeds
in his theme ; and at last becomes so diminished, that he is no longer
visible to the naked eye. Even as the minutest of insects, engendered
in bad vinegar, he must be put under a microscope, ere, like the show-
man's hippopotamus, we can duly consider him "from the end of the
snout to the tip of the tail."
MR. G. F. YOUNG'S WONDERFUL GOOSE.
HE learned birds of Mlle.
Vandermeersch are very
wonderful—but so is Mr. G.
F. Young's goose. That gen-
tleman has instructed the sa-
gacity of a goose to such a
point of intelligence, that its
performances—hitherto given
in private—have met with rap-
turous commendation. Last
week Mr. Young's goose per-
formed before Lord Derby
and party. We will _ briefly
describe the entertainment.
The whole alphabet, in barley bread, is laid before the goose : when
the sagacious bird, at the given signal, picks out, eating each letter, the
letters—" P.R.O.T.E.C.T.I.O.N." The goose is said to be the only
creature at present believing in what it swallows.
The Progress of Conversion.
Conversion is a word which is continually startling the eyes of
those who read the newspapers. A short time ago, Rome was making
numerous converts. She has not made so many lately, thanks to the
rebuff which his papal Holiness has experienced here. Spain is just
now more particularly figuring in the conversion way, her government
having converted certain bonds and coupons; in other words, the Spanish
Debt. Convert, the Spaniards call it, as the wise, according to Pistol,
call it convey. The Apostle of this Spanish conversion is that particularly
holy man, S. Hieronymus Diddler.
The Kindest of Men.—A Sheriff's officer is a man who never
leaves another in Distress !
Vol. 23.
1