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.

Let us join the throng rushing into the suite of rooms furnished by the upholsterers of Vienna. These rooms are indeed magnificent, and must afford a high treat to the lovers of wood carving. There is a bookcase, which is almost a miracle of art; the flowers seem to wave, and the leaves to tremble, so nearly do they approach the perfection of nature. Then there is, it is said by judges, the most superb bed in the world; it is literally covered with carvings of the most costly and delicate description. Since the time of the famous Grinling Gibbons, the English carver, nothing has been seen like it. These Austrian rooms are among the great guns of the show, and will repay repeated visits.

Here stands the glorious Amazon of Kiss, of Berlin. This group, of colossal proportions, represents a female on horseback, in the act of launching a javelin at a tiger which has sprung on the fore quarter of her affrighted steed. This is a wonderful work of art, and places its author in the first rank of sculptors. Nothing can surpass the lifelike character of the Amazon's horse and the ferocious beast. As a tribute to the genius of Kiss, a grand banquet is to be given to him by the sculptors and artists of England. Well does he deserve such an honor.

Close by the Amazon is a colossal lion in bronze. This is the softest piece of casting I ever saw; the catlike motion of the paw is perfectly lifelike. I turn back again to that Amazon. I could gaze on the agony of that horse for hours, and think I should continue to discover new beauties.

The Crusader, a colossal equestrian statue of Godfrey of Bouillon, is also very imposing. The entire floor is covered in the centre of the avenue, from east to west, with beautiful statues, models, &c.

We ascended to one of the galleries for the purpose of taking a bird's eye view of the gay, busy scene; and a most splendid scene was thrown open to our gaze. Far as the eye could reach, the building was alive with gayly-dressed people, who, amidst statues, and trophies, and trees, and fountains, wandered as in the groves of some enchanted land. As I strolled onwards, I came to where a tiny fountain sent up its silvery jet of eau de Cologne, and an assistant of Jean Marie Farina, from a little golden spoon, poured on my handkerchief, unasked, the odoriferous essence. Then we lingered to witness two of the noblest cakes, the sight of which ever gladdened the heart of a bride. Gunter, the great pastry cook, was the architect of the one which was a triumph of taste. The other was adorned with Cupid and Psyche-like emblems. Then came wax flowers, beaded artfully with glass, so as to appear spangled with dewdrops. Then we inspected Cashmere shawls, on which I saw many a lady cast looks, of admiration, and, I almost fancied, of covetousness.

Down again, and we are beneath the transept. Beautiful, head, far higher than the tops of the huge elm-trees, is a crystal arch which spans this intersecting space. Around are marble statues, which gleam lustrously amid the foliage of tropical plants, which, shielded from the chilling air without, seem to be quite at home here. And in the midst up rises Osler's crystal fountain—a splendid affair, twenty-seven feet in height, and consisting of four tons of cut glass. So exquisitely is it arranged that no metal, either of joint or pipe, can be seen. It is "one entire and perfect chrysolite." From its lofty summit issues forth a dome of water, which separates, and falls in prismatic showers into a spacious basin beneath. There are three other fountains, but this is the monarch of all. On either side of this beautiful production of a Birmingham manufacturer are two equestrian statues of the queen and Prince Albert, about which I cannot speak in admiration. Groups of figures line the sides of the transept, and there is a Puck which I would like all friends to look at. O, he is alive with fun, and there marble speaks and laughs.

We have been greatly delighted with the English room of sculpture. There is a fine portrait statue of Flaxman, from the chisel of Franks; a very clever statue of John Wesley; but if I were to chronicle all the sculptures here, I may as well write a catalogue at once. But before I quit the subject of marble, let me just allude to the Italian gallery. There the specimens are indeed exquisite, and remind us that the genius of art yet loves to linger in the "land of the cypress and myrtle"—in that beautiful country

Among the gems of marble is one which I told, you was the only possible rival of Powers's Greek Slave. This lovely production is "the Veiled Vesta." It represents a young and exquisitely-formed girl, kneeling and offering her oblation of the sacred fire. Her face is veiled; but every feature is distinctly visible, as it were, through the folds which cover her face. So wonderfully is the veil-like appearance produced, that myself and others were almost inclined to believe that some trick of art had been practised, and a film of gauze actually hung over the features. It was not so, however; the hard marble, finely managed, alone caused the deception. Raffael Monti, of Milan, is the illustrious artist of "the Veiled Vesta."

One of the most interesting machines in the whole exhibition is the envelope machine of Messrs. De la Rue & Co., of London. In its operations it more resembles the efforts of human intellect than any thing I have seen before in machinery. It occupies but a small space, and is worked by a little boy. In a second, and as if by magic, a blank piece of paper is folded, gummed, and stamped, and, in fact, converted into a perfect envelope. As soon as finished, a pair of steel fingers picks it up, lays it aside, and pushes it out of the way in the most orderly manner possible. These envelopes, so made, are given to all who choose to accept them. Opposite to this machine is the stand of Gillott, of steel pen celebrity. Here are pens of all sizes, and of various materials. One monster pen might fit a Brobdignagian fist, for it is two feet long, and has a nib one quarter of an inch broad; and there are others so small that no one but a Liliputian lady could use them. Between these extremes are others of various dimensions, arranged in a very tasteful manner. Something must be got out of this branch of business, for it is only a month or two since Mr. Gillott purchased an estate for ninety thousand pounds sterling. Here, too, is a novelty—the model of St. Stephen's Church, Bolton, Lancashire. The model and the church itself are both composed of terra cotta. This material was also employed in the construction of the principal fittings, such as the screen, pews, organ gallery, pulpit, &c. This is a new adaptation of terra cotta. The spire severely tests its capabilities, as it is of open Gothic, or tracery work.

A large model of Liverpool is beautifully constructed to scale, and must be the result of immense labor. It is twenty-five feet long, and exhibits at a glance a bird's eye view of the town, the docks, the River Mersey, and the adjacent places. Hundreds of miniature vessels, amongst them the Great Britain, crowd the docks; fleets of merchantmen are seen on the Mersey, sailing to and from the port; and in the busy streets, so minutely delineated that any particular house may be distinguished, numerous vehicles are seen, and hundreds, too, of pygmy men and women are observed walking in the public ways. In short; it is Liverpool in a glass case, and no mean exhibition in itself.

The Thames Plate Glass Company exhibit the largest plate of glass in the world; its dimensions are eighteen feet eight inches by ten feet. There is not a blemish on its brilliant surface, and it is as "true" as possible. It is placed in such a position that it reflects the whole length of the main avenue of the Crystal Palace, and the effect produced is superb. A Catholic bookseller from Belgium makes quite a display of his editions of devotional works for every country under heaven; and there, too, are the effigies of Cardinal Boromeo, Thomas À Becket, and the late Archbishop of Paris, all arrayed in full pontificals. Their crosiers are very richly jewelled. If the apostles of Christ could revisit the earth, they would never fancy that these were their successors in the work and patience of the gospel.

Few things have impressed me more than the exquisite carvings and elaborate work of the cabinet ware; and I must, Charley, try to describe one piece of furniture which excites universal praise. It is a cabinet made by John Stevens, of Taunton. It was prepared at great cost, and is the gem of the carved work in the exhibition. The wood of which it was composed was a walnut-tree, which, not long ago, flourished near Taunton. In order that you may not suppose, I praise every thing too highly, and without sufficient ground for admiration, I shall give you a particular description of this incomparable piece of furniture. It represents, in four beautifully carved male figures, executed after the style of Gibbons, the periods of Youth, Manhood, Maturity, and Old Age, whilst other four (female) figures, beautifully brought up in good relief, are representative of the Passions. Here there was an opportunity for displaying some fine needlework; and Miss Kingsbury, a lady of the town, who has received from the hand of royalty a reward for her talents, has turned the opportunity to good account, and produced some appropriate work, displaying a skill truly astonishing. This is not the least attractive portion of the cabinet, and, as we shall again, have to advert to it in its order, we leave it for the present. The carved figure of the Youth represents him at twenty years of age. The countenance is finely wrought, and marks the innocency and candor of the young heart; the open brow, the love-lighted eye, all exemplifying characteristics of that period of life, untrammelled with care or anxious thought. In his hair, well brought out from the solid wood, is intertwined the violet, the primrose, and the cow-slip, emblematical of the season—being the spring time of life. In the right hand of the figure is attached a portion of a festoon of carved flowers, which connects it with the other four figures. The left hand is extended, pointing to Manhood. This figure denotes the period when forty summers have ripened the man, and brought the noblest work of God to that stage of his more powerful intellect, his keener judgment, stronger frame, and more lasting energy. These characteristics are most admirably depicted. In his locks are carved the rose, the lily, the pink, and the carnation, the strawberry and the gooseberry—emblematical of the summer time of life. In the right hand the figure receives the festoon of flowers from Youth, and in the left it supports the frame of the cabinet. The festoon is carried on to Maturity, which represents the time when sixty years bring him to the period of decline. Its right hand assists, with the left of that of Manhood, in supporting the cabinet. Encircling his brow are corn ears and wine cups, together with barley, wheat, grapes, and hops, the whole of which are most elaborately and finely chiselled. The hand of Maturity points downward to Old Age. The furrowed brow, the sunken cheek, the dim and glassy eye observable in this figure, conveys the mournful intelligence that the sand of life is fast approaching its last little grain. The bent form and the thoughtful brow tell that Time, the consumer of all things, has also ravaged a once erect and powerful frame. The contemplation of this figure, beautifully executed as it is, intuitively inculcates a serious consideration of the value and blessings of a temperate; and well-spent life; it induces a thoughtful reflection that a life of goodness alone insures an end of peace. The holly, the mistletoe, the ivy, the acorn shell, the leafless branch, and the fruitless vine encircle the brow-fit emblems of the period which marks an exchange of time for eternity. All the figures are rendered complete by a carved lion's foot, at the bottom of each, and above the feet is a connecting frame, to make that portion of the stand perfect. Between the figures of Spring and Summer are carved flowers and fruit in great profusion, emblematical of the seasons, and forming a fine piece of work; it represents the all-important fact that time flies, by an hourglass borne on the wings of a splendidly-carved eagle, and suspending from the bird's beak are the letters, curiously wrought, forming Tempus Fugit. This rests on a globe, representative of the earth, which is half sunk in a shell of water, overflowing the wheel of time, and shedding on fruit and flowers its refreshing dew. The space between the figures of Autumn and Winter is filled with carvings of the chrysanthemum, holly, ivy, and autumn fruit, intertwined with consummate skill and taste. The garland, or festoon, which is carried through, and sustained, as before stated, by each of the four figures, is composed of every flower indigenous to this part of the land, and introduced emblematically to the time in which they severally bloom.

Above the figures, and resting on their heads, is a stand or frame to receive the top part, containing the drawers, doors, &c., and is constructed in a peculiar manner on the bevel, that the eye may easily rest on some beautiful lines from Thomson's Seasons. Over the head of Youth, in this frame, is a basket of strawberries, cherries, raspberries, and early fruit, surrounded with leaf work, enclosing a panel of needlework, covered with bent plate glass, and the motto,—

Then follows the carved figure representing Summer. Over the head of it is a basket, containing currants, strawberries, gooseberries, apples, pears, peaches, and other fruits, enriched with leaf work, the lily and the rose completing the centre. Between the Summer and Autumn baskets and a panel are the following mottoes, each season having one:—

Then follows the Autumn basket, containing grapes, pears, filberts, &c., surrounded with leaf work. The panel of needlework next appears for Winter, with these lines:—

and over the head of the Winter figure is placed a basket of walnuts, medlars, &c. Here is the frame of the cabinet, which contains about eighty drawers in fine walnut wood, enriched with fuschia drops in silver, and coral beads for drop handles; the wood work is relieved with silvered plate glass; also small doors with plate glass for needlework, in wild flowers. This completes the interior of the frame.

The exterior represents three carved doors, in fine relief: over Spring and Summer is the convolvulus, entwined round the frame; then follows the centre door, in fine relief—the grape vine, full of fruit, being very prominent. The door over Autumn and Winter is enriched with carvings of barley and hop vine. Between each of these doors are pilasters, forming four female figures, holding in their hands the emblems of the seasons, and a newly-invented glass dome head, in an elegant form, for the protection of knitted flowers in Berlin wool. The wood work is tastefully arranged, springing from each group of flowers over the heads of the female figures, with mouldings to receive the bent plate glass, and is enriched with fine carvings of fruit and flowers. At the extreme top of this glass dome stands a beautiful figure of Peace, with extended wings, bending over the globe, holding in one hand the olive branch, and with the other pointing to the Deity.

Having thus given a description of the carvings of this splendid cabinet, let me turn your attention to the enrichments in needlework, worked on black velvet, from nature, by Miss Kingsbury. The mottoes in frame for the different seasons are worked in floss silk of various colors; the inside doors—five in number—with wild flowers; and in front are rich specimens of raised embroidery, extending to the inside, and protected with plate glass. Miss Kingsbury is a young lady of Taunton, who has made this kind of work her peculiar forte.

Above the doors, also, are knitted flowers in Berlin wools, which fill the dome head, and are protected with bent plate glass. Almost every flower, as they bloom, are to be distinguished in these rich bouquets, with which the honeysuckle and passion flower are beautifully entwined.

Now, what think you of such a cabinet as this? Well, Charley, there are scores and scores of objects as much deserving a full description as this.

The department of machinery and steam power is entirely beyond my ability to speak of in proper terms. I have little mechanical genius, and I never am more out of my element than When surrounded by fly wheels, cylinders, and walking beams.

If our friend Ike had been here, lie would have been perfectly at home; and his pleasure and profit in this department would have surpassed any I could experience. I have only glanced at a few of the wonderful things in this wonderful place, and yet I have far exceeded the bounds of an ordinary letter.

Yours affectionately,

j.o.c.