, and let your last end be like his who is painted
there--then I shall rejoice in the only payment I desire to get, for this
my afternoon's writing."

V. THE BRITISH MUSEUM.

Nature is infinitely more wonderful than the highest art; and in the
commonest hedgeside leaf lies a mystery and beauty greater than that of
the greatest picture, the noblest statue--as infinitely greater as God's
work is infinitely greater than man's. But to those who have no leisure
to study nature in the green fields (and there are now-a-days too many
such, though the time may come when all will have that blessing), to such
I say, go to the British Museum, Bloomsbury Square; there at least, if
you cannot go to nature's wonders, some of nature's wonders are brought
to you.

The British Museum is my glory and joy; because it is one of the only
places which is free to English citizens as such--where the poor and the
rich may meet together, and before those works of God's Spirit, "who is
no respecter of persons," feel that "the Lord is the maker of them all."
In the British Museum and the National Gallery, the Englishman may say,
"Whatever my coat or my purse, I am an Englishman, and therefore I have a
right here. I can glory in these noble halls, as if they were my own
house."

English commerce, the joint enterprise and industry of the poor sailor as
well as the rich merchant, brought home these treasures from foreign
lands; and those glorious statues--though it was the wealth and taste of
English noblemen and gentlemen (who in that proved themselves truly noble
and gentle) who placed them here, yet it was the genius of English
artists--men at once above and below all ranks--men who have worked their
way up, not by money or birth, but by worth and genius, which taught the
noble and wealthy the value of those antiques, and which proclaimed their
beauty to the world. The British Museum is a truly equalising place, in
the deepest and most spiritual sense. And it gives the lie, too, to that
common slander, "that the English are not worthy of free admission to
valuable and curious collections, because they have such a trick of
seeing with their fingers; such a trick of scribbling their names, of
defiling and disfiguring works of art. On the Continent it may do, but
you cannot trust the English."

This has been, like many other untruths, so often repeated, that people
now take it for granted; but I believe that it is utterly groundless,