memorable;
surveyed the spoils of Etruscan tombs; and lingered amid the varieties
of household things from the barbarous nations of the present hour;
and not wholly profitless have the journeys been, even if the
scientific mysticism be not mastered, so that there remains in the
mind a general impression of the time that has gone by, the great laws
that govern the universe, and the humility that becomes man, when he
sees his individuality, in relation with the mighty past, and the
great progresses of Nature.

END OF THE SECOND VISIT.

VISIT THE THIRD.

The visitor, on entering the British Museum for the third time, will
commence his examination of the massive Antiquities, which are
scattered throughout the noble galleries that stretch along the
western basement of the building. His spirit must again wander to the
remote past. Again must he recur to the ancient civilisation of
southern Europe, and the busy people that covered the valley of the
Nile before Alexander breathed. He has already examined the household
utensils, the bodies, the ornaments, and the food of the ancient
Egyptians, and has had more than a glimpse of the artistic excellence
to which they attained long before our Christian era. Of the
sepulchral caves of Thebes, of the massive pyramids sacred to the
ancient Pharaohs, of the strange images of beasts and men, of the
sacred beetles, and the universal Ibis, he has already examined minute
specimens arranged in the cases of the Egyptian Room; but he has yet
to witness those evidences of power, and scorn of difficulties,
exhibited in the colossal works of the Egyptian people.

On entering the Museum for the third time, the visitor should turn to
the left, and passing under the staircase, enter the galleries devoted
to Ancient Sculpture. He will at once be struck with the strange
allegorical figures clustered on all sides, the broken bodies, the
fragments of arms and legs, the corners of slabs, and other
dilapidations. Here a fine figure is without a nose, there Theseus
holds aloft two handless arms, and legs without feet. The visitor who
has not the least insight into the heart of all these collections of
fragments from tombs, and temples, and neglected ruins, is perhaps
inclined to laugh at the enthusiasm with which they are generally
examined, and the rapturous strains in which the greatest critics have
written of them. Not to all people is the enthusiasm of Lord Elgin
comprehensible. Why n