GRACE bade him look from her, and observe the five halls, in the central and greatest of which they stood. She showed him that Royalty had contributed a gorgeous temple, rich in gems and gold, richer in an artist-thought of the Prince who designed it. And, standing on the platform, she pointed out that the forge and the loom and the chisel had all been busy for that huge hall, whose area offered a series of bold general types of the work to be seen in detail around it. And China was near with her carvings, and India with her embroideries, and Japan with a hundred crafts (now for the first time revealed, thanks to our brother, the King of Holland), and Belgium with her graceful ingenuity, and France with her artistic luxury, and the Zollverein with its bronzes, and Austria with her maps, and flowers, and furniture. And then GRACE led him on to the Fine Arts Hall, where the original thoughts of a thousand painters, new and old, glowed upon him from walls which the DEVONSHIRES, and LANSDOWNES, and TALBOTS, and PORTARLINGTONS, and YARBOROUGHS, and CHARLEMONTS, and others, had joined to enrich with the choicest treasures of their castles and mansions. And amid the priceless display, _Mr. Punch_ felt justly proud of his aristocratic friends, who could at once trust and teach the people. HONORA bade him look from her, and they passed from an exquisite Mediæval Court, its blue vault studded with golden stars, crossed the hall, and observed a long range of machinery doing its various restless work, and doing it noiselessly, thanks to a silent system and a tremendous rod, sent from Manchester by FAIRBAIRN, through whose Tubular Bridge _Mr. Punch_ had flown at dawn. And HONORA showed him where Ireland had put forth her own strength, and thrown down her linens and her woollens in friendly challenge, and with her hardware, her minerals, her beautiful marbles, and her admirable typography. They ascended, and passing through long lines of galleries, _Mr. Punch's_ adorable guides pointed out, amid a legion of wares, things more graceful and useful than he had seen assembled since the bell (on that 11th of October last but one) tolled for the fall of Paxtonia. "And now, dear _Mr. Punch_," said HONORA, "you have looked round our Dublin Exhibition, and--and--" "And," said GRACE, "you know that you sometimes say rather severe things about Ireland--" "Never," said _Mr. Punch_, dropping upon his knees. "Never. But here I register a vow." The whole assembly was suddenly hushed, and had _Mr. Punch's_ words been literal, instead of only metaphorical, pearls and diamonds, you might have heard them fall on those boards.