The Sun.
London, England, 1850-09-24 00:00:00

JENNY LIND'S RECEPTION IN
AMERICA.

There is a shrine fur some divinity or other in
every human heart. In this respect the Americans
are made pretty much like the rest of us. They
have not much reverence for a Sovereign, or a Lord,
or even for a Pope. In fact, their political engage-
ments have rather cut them out of the old-fashioned
circles. But set them once free, try them on a little
new ground, and their innate loyalty will come out
as strong as their own rivers and falls. Jenny bind,
after flitting about Europe as free as a lark, jilting
Queens, suitors, and opera lessees, has lighted on the
New World, and made it her own. The Caribs were
not more awe-struck at the landing of Columbus
than the Yankees at the advent of Jenny Lind. Our
own countrymen were mad enough in all conscience,
considering that of the multitudes who raved about
Jenny, not one in ten had heard a note of her voice ;
and though she sang for charities, she certainly did
not sing to " the million." The Americans, however,
beat us out and out in the pitch of their devotion,
before a soul of them has seen her. It is already their
belief, as expressed by one of the soberest of their
journals, that " she has been raised up by the Great
Spirit to make the rest of the world humble,
while they adore His power." There is always a
certain relation between the worshipper and the wor-
shipped, and the most entranced homage will occa-
sionally betray the contemplation of self. In the
present instance the prostrate multitude cannot help
being proud of their city, of their visitor, of themselves,
and of their own singular good taste. " The Swedish
Nightingale, the soul of song, has at length arrived
in the Empire City of the great republic of the New
World, and her welcome has been cordial and enthu-
' siastic in proportion to her fame, and that intuitive
instinct by which the people of New York never fail
to recognise and appreciate heroism, goodness, or
genius." In this Pantheon of greatnesses, which is
most admired, and which stands on the principal
pedestal—the Nightingale, the Empire City, the
great republic, the New World, the people of New
York, or the abstract excellencies that wind up the
sentence ? Need we hesitate for an answer ? They
are all in proportion to one another, and the beauty
of Jenny Liud consists in her being of a piece with
New York. Our readers are already acquainted
with the splendour of Jenny Lind's reception ; the
desertion of the churches—for it was Sunday; the
assemblage of the population on the shore ; the
triumphal arches ; the myriads of eyes fixed on the
Atlantic, as she steamed up the river; the meeting
of Jenny Lind and Barnum, with the brief but
important interchanges of sentiment that ensued ;
the rush of the eager multitude through the dock-
yard gates ; the progress to Irving-house ; the
gorgeous apartments prepared for the " Nightin-
gale ;" her admiration of the scenery, of the
stripes and stars, of the respectability of the mob,
of the comfortable niggers, of the airs, " Hail Co-
lumbia" and " Yankee Doodle," and of everything
that she heard or saw. As we have to epitomize
the proceedings of ten days, each of which
would fill several columns of this paper, we are
forced most reluctantly to omit heaps of the most
interesting and picturesque details. It is, however,
satisfactory to know that everything is recorded, and
if future ages should wish to realize these events they
will not have to draw on their imagination, or to be
content with these few scanty sentences in which the
fate of dynasties and empires have sometimes been
recorded. Not a word, not a smile, not a downcast
look, not a choking of the utterance, not a flourish of
the handkerchief or wave of the hand, not a pink riband
has been omitted from the history of the first moment-
ous day, from the instant when Jenny Lind was re-
vealed to the 'cute gaze of the American world by
her proximity to Barnum on the deck of the steamer,
up to the witching hour of midnight, when, after a sere-
nade of two hundred musicians and the whole popula-
tion of New York, and a tremendous long address by
the committee of the Musical Fund Society, " the de-
putation having conversed a few moments with Jenny
Lind and Mr. Barnum then withdrew, and the Night-
ingale retired to her downy rest." We assure our
readers that we have cut the first day very short in-
deed. We have left out incidents enough to fill an
orthodox novel in 3 vols., duodecimo. There are nine
days before us, so, adopting the conspicuous arrange-
ment in the New York papers, we will proceed at
once to the