Step over to the Little Exhibition, and
consider how the Chinese Lanthorns would
look on the North or South Foreland, or the
Long Ships, or the Eddystone, in heavy
weather, and what capital floating lights they
would make on the Goodwin Sands.

The Chinese self-supporting bridges, houses,
pagodas, and little islands, on their porcelain,
all standing upon nothing, are equally
curious with the models of their actual
structure.

In the Great Exhibition, among the
philosophical, musical, horological, and surgical
instruments, we find, first, the great Electric
Clock; and next we notice clocks that
will go for four hundred days with once
winding up; watches that are so secure
from injury by damp, that they are exhibited
suspended in water, and performing with
regularity; a money-calculating machine,
suited to the currency of all nations; an
instrument for the solution of difficult
problems in spherical trigonometry (obviously a
great comfort); clocks showing the days of
the month, months of the year, motions of the
sun and moon, and the state of the tide at the
principal sea-ports of Great Britain, Ireland,
France, America, Spain, Portugal, Holland,
and Germany—and showing all this for a
whole year with only one winding up; oxy-
hydrogen microscopes; daguerreotype and
calotype apparatus; and, above all, the electric
telegraphs.

In competition with these, the Little
Exhibition presents us with "a very curious
porcelain box in the form of a crab, with
moveable eyes and feet," and with no clock
or watch at all. In the absence of public
clocks to strike the hours, a Chinese watch-man
hits a large bell with a mallet; first
ascertaining the time by an European watch,
or from the burning of a candle, or the
running of sand, or the descent of some
liquid in a vessel.

We ought not to omit the mention of a few
of the ingenious surgical inventions (and
here our French exhibitors are most skilful)
such as the artificial leech; apparatus and tools
to meet the loss of the right hand; the
artificial leg, to enable those who have lost that
limb above the knee, to ride, walk, sit gracefully,
or even dance; an illuminative instrument
for inspecting the inside of the ear,
and another for the eye; the guard razor,
which shaves off hair, and will not cut flesh;
the ostracide (grand and killing term for
the easy oyster-opener); the masticating knife
and fork, for dyspeptic persons; artificial
arms, hands, feet, legs, eyes; the artificial
silver nose, warranted; and so on.

Chinese philosophical instruments we have
neither seen, nor heard of, with very few
exceptions. A maritime compass-box, however,
is exhibited, and is considered efficient,
notwithstanding that the needle points due
south. The Chinese say it always does—one
end of it. Of their surgical instruments we
know very little; but, if we may judge of
them from their knives and razors, and
carpenters' tools, they must be sufficiently
primitive and curious.

In the arts of sculpture and modelling, the
progress made by all nations (we do not
include Italy, because she has so long been
famous for her excellence) is sufficiently
apparent. With regard to English sculpture, we
have only to call the attention of the visitor
of the Great Exhibition to Mr. MacDowell's
model of "Eve," to Mr. Lough's "Titania,"
to Mr. Bell's "Andromeda," and "Eagle
Slayer," to the two figures by Mr. Baily, to
the group in bronze by Mr. Wyatt, and to
the colossal groups by Messrs. Lough and
MacDowell, to establish the fact of our having
attained a high position in the art. The
models in plaster, clay, and terra-cotta, and
other works of plastic art, are also very
numerous, and many of them display great
excellence.

In the Little Exhibition, we find the old
and never-to-be-surpassed ugly lion-monsters,
with the mouth stretched until the head is
half off, and the eye-balls rolling out of their
sockets; we have figures of the same
mandarins and the same ladies, who have sat on
the same teapots and screens from time
immemorial; we have carved chessmen, and
caddies, and cabinets, and richly painted
lanthorns, and teapots, and tea-cups, and
soap-stone josses, and other stout gentlemen, very
much in déshabille, and with an unpleasant
habit of putting out their tongues; we
have slim young ladies, standing askew,
with long-legged umbrellas, or some
incomprehensible knick-knack, in one hand; we have
models of the common people, looking very
dirty and half-starved; we have more teapots;
and a revolving lanthorn (not exactly meant
to rival our catadioptric one); and
elaborately insignificant designs carved on mother-
of-pearl and ivory; and more teapots, and
ivory balls, with twenty other balls each a
size less than the other, inside, and all
moveable, and no joints visible, if any exist; and
diminutive boxes carved from peach-stones;
and hand-screens made from the gelatine of
the heads of fish; and more lanthorns; and
the Goddess Chin-Te with no end of arms;
and all sorts of horrible old grinners who are to
be devoutly worshipped; and the God of War,
who is by far the finest fellow of the party,
for he really does mean something, and it is
by no means fighting. He is considering,
with a very cunning face, "Now, let me see.
What will be the best way out of this?
Shall I arrange to pay so many sacks of
silver and afterwards fill them with lead, or
how, otherwise, shall I circumvent the
Barbarians and restore peace to the dominions of
my Emperor, whose official name is Reason's
Glory?"

The construction of musical instruments
has always been a marked sign of the progress
of nations, in refinement of taste and skill of