--Now the Bishop reads an eloquent prayer; then follows an ode, sung to the time-honored tune of _Old Hundred_, echoing from hundreds of voices, through those deep naves, with such thrilling majesty that you feel as if wings were growing from out your shoulders, and you _must_ soar; and suggesting the song of the redeemed, sung by thousands and tens of thousands, before the great White Throne. Now the speeches commence--but as I see a whole army of reporters, down below, I shall use their ears instead of my own, and make my escape while an omnibus is to be had. Some day, when the President is not present to eclipse them, I shall return and examine all the _chef de’oeuvres_ of art here collected. --Stay! here’s a pretty conceit I must look at, as we pass along out--a mock garden of moss and flowers, about the size of a lady’s work table, from the center of which plays a fountain of eau de cologne, beneath whose drops any lady can perfume her kerchief _en passant_, a dainty invention for a boudoir. Need I say its birth-place is Paris. There’s the statue of the Amazonian Queen, startled by the sudden spring of a tiger at her horse’s throat. Hartshorn and smelling salts, _it’s alive_!--no; it is lifeless bronze, but so full of vitality and expression, it makes me shiver to look at it. Now my eye is arrested by an imposing group of Thorwalsden, “Christ and his Apostles.” It is not _my_ Christ. It is not He who said, “Suffer little children to come unto me.” It is not He who said to the weeping Magdalen, “Neither do I condemn thee.” It is not He who raised for the meek Mary, the dead Lazarus. It is not He who, dying, cried, “Father, forgive them; they know not what they do.” It is a form, stern, unbending, forbidding. My heart refuses its allegiance. But I fear I am wearying the reader; so, let me close by saying, that what astonished me more than anything else, was the appearance of four of the most consummate _Knaves_ in the world. They occupied conspicuous positions during the public exercises, and in fact, all the time I was there. Indeed, I am informed that they have been in regular attendance ever since the Palace was opened, notwithstanding they are well known, not only to the police, but to the officers of the exhibition. It is even whispered that the latter named gentlemen connive at their attendance, unblushingly bestow many attentions upon them, and will, undoubtedly, permit them to be present during the entire exhibition. That the public may know and recognize them, I will give their names: they are the North Nave, the South Nave, the East Nave, and the West Nave! A LANCE COUCHED FOR THE CHILDREN.