He presented me with a copy of an illustrated edition of
Longfellow's Poems, and I took my leave.
Thence I went to the Picture Gallery at the British Institution, where
there are three rooms full of paintings by the first masters, the
property of private persons. Every one of them, no doubt, was worth
studying for a long, long time; and I suppose I may have given, on an
average, a minute to each. What an absurdity it would seem, to pretend
to read two or three hundred poems, of all degrees between an epic and a
ballad, in an hour or two! And a picture is a poem, only requiring the
greater study to be felt and comprehended; because the spectator must
necessarily do much for himself towards that end. I saw many beautiful
things,--among them some landscapes by Claude, which to the eye were like
the flavor of a rich, ripe melon to the palate.
August 7th.--Yesterday we took the rail for London, it being a fine,
sunny day, though not so very warm as many of the preceding days have
been. . . . . We went along Piccadilly as far as the Egyptian Hall. It
is quite remarkable how comparatively quiet the town has become, now that
the season is over. One can see the difference in all the region west of
Temple Bar; and, indeed, either the hot weather or some other cause seems
to have operated in assuaging the turmoil in the city itself. I never
saw London Bridge so little thronged as yesterday. At the Egyptian Hall,
or in the same edifice, there is a gallery of pictures, the property of
Lord Ward, who allows the public to see them, five days of the week,
without any trouble or restriction,--a great kindness on his Lordship's
part, it must be owned.
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