The Upper Ten Thousand of London had a field-day on
Wed- nesday. The Queen opened the "Royal Albert Hall," that huge and ugly copy in brick of the Colosseum, down there in Ken- sington, and eight thousand persons in their finest clothes went to see Her Majesty and each other. No contretemps occurred. The Queen, as usual, was punctual, the weather was endurable, and though an unlucky echo persisted in mimicking the Prince of Wales as he read the address and the Bishop of London as he read the prayer, the music was as audible as in any smaller Music- hall. What with the unwonted presence of the Court, the bril- liancy of the dresses, and the number of the audience, the sight was a splendid one, and the building was for once attractive. Of what use it is to be now it is open nobody can guess. It is not adapted for an exhibition. It is too big for lectures or ordinary concerts, people cannot walk about in it as at the Crystal Palace, and there are not enough children interested in science to sup- port a gigantic Polytechnic. We greatly fear it will come to the people it was apparently built for, the acrobats and rope-dancers ; but the shareholders have confidence in the genius of Mr. Cole. If he does not succeed, they can always let it to Mr. Strange.
