DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.1312#0148
OF THE WORLD'S INDUSTRY. 95
the Exhibition has raised, but prove fraught with the gravest consequences to the welfare of
this country and of mankind at large/'
In addition to this comprehensive description we shall insert a few observations which
have been sent to us by the same intelligent writer who., on former occasions, has favoured
us with tributes from her pen in the sweet and forceful sonnet, and whose prose we trust
will be equally acceptable to our readers.
A LAST LOOK AT THE CRYSTAL PALACE.
Madame de Stael has remarked that the English word " FarewellI" is one of the
most musical, the most expressive, and the most affecting, that is to be found in any
language. She is right; it is indeed more than a word—it is a sentence in itself.
It contains the whole essence of an affectionate parting, fraught with all the good wishes
that affection must ever prompt. It says, " Adieu! Be happy. I shall not witness
that happiness, but I also shall be happy in hearing of it."
If not so harmonious in sound, equally moving in sentiment is the simple phrase,
"For the last time \" The last evening that friends spend together, the last cordial shake
of the hand, the last look at parting, the last request of lips dear to us—how warm are
the feelings they call forth at the moment! how tender the recollections they leave!
Even of things inanimate it is the same. Who ever looked back upon a favourite tree,
a beloved roof, a well-known turn in an oft-tracked road, or upon any other familiar
object, endeared by long associations, for " the last time/5 without feeling as if a void was
left in the heart, which at the moment it seems no new object can ever fill up ! It is not
often, however, that crowded places of public resort awaken any sentiment of this kind :
the " Positively Last Night of Performance/1 may indeed attract a numerous audience to
a theatre, or a spectacle, but the scene is generally quitted without any demonstration of
regret, except the doubtful one of uproarious applause, at its close.
Such was not the case at the closing of the Crystal Palace. "We may venture to
affirm that never since the world began, had so singular, so interesting a spectacle
been beheld as that of between twenty and thirty thousand members of civilised society
all met together under one roof, all actuated by the same sentiment of regret, that
they had met to look "for the last time" on the wonders of Nature, Science, and
Art, by which the Crystal Palace had, for six months, attracted all ranks, all ages, all
nations, within its ample boundaries; to gaze upon its lightsome architecture, to track
its spacious aisles, to contemplate its treasures and its wonders, and to open their hearts
to that true philanthropy which finds its own enjoyments multiplied, a hundred fold, in
the thought that they are also the enjoyments of all around. Never, indeed, did human
institution give rise to so wide a sphere of good feeling as was diffused throughout
that gigantic repository of nature's gifts and human industry, from all quarters of the
globe ! It afforded a delightful earnest of the happy period which we are allowed to hope
for, and which we may all accelerate by individual efforts, when mankind will regard each
other as fellow-citizens of the world at large; when facility of intercourse will lead only
to exchange of benefits; and when nations, even the most remote, brought into familiar
converse together, will willingly acknowledge and imitate what is desirable in each other,
and endeavour to remove or correct whatever may be deemed otherwise.
Never did the Crystal Palace look more beautiful, never were its beauties more
appreciated, than on the day at the end of which it was to be closed to the public. The
sun shone brightly on the vaulted roof, the sky displayed its purest blue, the trees within
seemed to rejoice with the trees without; the fountains threw up their glittering waters,
as if in playful rivalry with each other, and strains of music burst forth from organs,
pianofortes, wind instruments, and musical glasses, wherever they could do so, without
VOL. III. 2 B
the Exhibition has raised, but prove fraught with the gravest consequences to the welfare of
this country and of mankind at large/'
In addition to this comprehensive description we shall insert a few observations which
have been sent to us by the same intelligent writer who., on former occasions, has favoured
us with tributes from her pen in the sweet and forceful sonnet, and whose prose we trust
will be equally acceptable to our readers.
A LAST LOOK AT THE CRYSTAL PALACE.
Madame de Stael has remarked that the English word " FarewellI" is one of the
most musical, the most expressive, and the most affecting, that is to be found in any
language. She is right; it is indeed more than a word—it is a sentence in itself.
It contains the whole essence of an affectionate parting, fraught with all the good wishes
that affection must ever prompt. It says, " Adieu! Be happy. I shall not witness
that happiness, but I also shall be happy in hearing of it."
If not so harmonious in sound, equally moving in sentiment is the simple phrase,
"For the last time \" The last evening that friends spend together, the last cordial shake
of the hand, the last look at parting, the last request of lips dear to us—how warm are
the feelings they call forth at the moment! how tender the recollections they leave!
Even of things inanimate it is the same. Who ever looked back upon a favourite tree,
a beloved roof, a well-known turn in an oft-tracked road, or upon any other familiar
object, endeared by long associations, for " the last time/5 without feeling as if a void was
left in the heart, which at the moment it seems no new object can ever fill up ! It is not
often, however, that crowded places of public resort awaken any sentiment of this kind :
the " Positively Last Night of Performance/1 may indeed attract a numerous audience to
a theatre, or a spectacle, but the scene is generally quitted without any demonstration of
regret, except the doubtful one of uproarious applause, at its close.
Such was not the case at the closing of the Crystal Palace. "We may venture to
affirm that never since the world began, had so singular, so interesting a spectacle
been beheld as that of between twenty and thirty thousand members of civilised society
all met together under one roof, all actuated by the same sentiment of regret, that
they had met to look "for the last time" on the wonders of Nature, Science, and
Art, by which the Crystal Palace had, for six months, attracted all ranks, all ages, all
nations, within its ample boundaries; to gaze upon its lightsome architecture, to track
its spacious aisles, to contemplate its treasures and its wonders, and to open their hearts
to that true philanthropy which finds its own enjoyments multiplied, a hundred fold, in
the thought that they are also the enjoyments of all around. Never, indeed, did human
institution give rise to so wide a sphere of good feeling as was diffused throughout
that gigantic repository of nature's gifts and human industry, from all quarters of the
globe ! It afforded a delightful earnest of the happy period which we are allowed to hope
for, and which we may all accelerate by individual efforts, when mankind will regard each
other as fellow-citizens of the world at large; when facility of intercourse will lead only
to exchange of benefits; and when nations, even the most remote, brought into familiar
converse together, will willingly acknowledge and imitate what is desirable in each other,
and endeavour to remove or correct whatever may be deemed otherwise.
Never did the Crystal Palace look more beautiful, never were its beauties more
appreciated, than on the day at the end of which it was to be closed to the public. The
sun shone brightly on the vaulted roof, the sky displayed its purest blue, the trees within
seemed to rejoice with the trees without; the fountains threw up their glittering waters,
as if in playful rivalry with each other, and strains of music burst forth from organs,
pianofortes, wind instruments, and musical glasses, wherever they could do so, without
VOL. III. 2 B