It is needless to speak here of the Great Exhibition of 1851: these pages are not to tell of its beauties, its results, or the enthusiasm it called into play; suffice it to say that our dear old Park was the scene of its glories. We will hope that its peaceful memories may never be effaced from among the nations. HYDE PARK CORNER.—The earliest mention of this name I have met with is in the “Chronicle of Queen Mary,” &c., published by the Camden Society, where Wyatt is described planting his “ordenance over agaynst the parke corner.” The name properly applies to that triangularly-shaped portion of the Park formed by the line from Stanhope Gate to Apsley House. Several interesting incidents have occurred at this spot deserving notice. Here James I., in March, 1606, was met by his whole court and the House of Commons, with the Speaker at their head, to welcome him on his safe return from a hunting excursion near Woking, where it was stated he had been murdered. Here, in 1625, Judge Whitelock sat on the grass which grew in the road, and with his retinue ate the dinner brought with them from the country, afraid to stay longer in London than absolutely necessary, the plague having just carried off thousands of people. After his meal, he galloped to Westminster Hall, adjourned the courts, and quickly retired. By this road, on August 6th, 1647, Fairfax and his army, all with a laurel branch in their hats, entered from Kensington, accompanied by the House of Commons, to go to Westminster, the matter of the Declaration having been agreed to. From Kensington to the fort here, a guard stood three feet deep; and at Hyde Park Corner they were met by the Lord Mayor and Corporation, come to congratulate them on their arrival. “Lieut. General Cromwell’s regiment of horse” was among them, we are told: this was not his last appearance here. When he returned from his Irish campaign, Fairfax and others met him at Hounslow; and as he approached, Colonel Barkstead’s regiment, drawn up in the highway at the Park Corner, saluted him. In the journal of George Fox, the Quaker, too, is an anecdote of his meeting the Protector here. After the fight at Brentford, consternation being felt by the Londoners at the near approach of the Royal Army, a chain of forts was thrown up by the citizens, connected with each other by means of earth works and ramparts. Whitelock says it was wonderful to see how the women and children, and vast numbers of people, would come and work at digging and carrying earth to the fortifications. The newspapers of the day teem with curious particulars of the prevailing excitement; one day we read of five thousand felt-makers, another of four thousand porters, then of five thousand shoemakers, and six thousand tailors, all to assist in the pressing work. Nor were the fair sex behindhand; Butler, in his “Hudibras,” alluding to this, says they