d South Kensington labels,
whereon the description, measurements, and price of each object are
fairly printed. These make savage one who knows how labelling is bungled
in some of the Government Museums--our starved barns that are supposed
to hold the economic exhibits, not of little States, but of great
Provinces.

The floors are of dark red chunam, overlaid with a discreet and silent
matting; the doors, where they are not plate glass, are of carved wood,
no two alike, hinged by sumptuous brass hinges on to marble jambs and
opening without noise. On the carved marble pillars of each hall are
fixed revolving cases of the South Kensington pattern to show textile
fabrics, gold lace, and the like. In the recesses of the walls are more
cases, and on the railing of the gallery that runs round each of the
three great central rooms, are fixed low cases to hold natural history
specimens and wax models of fruits and vegetables.

Hear this, Governments of India from the Punjab to Madras! The doors
come true to the jamb, the cases, which have been through a hot weather,
are neither warped nor cracked, nor are there unseemly tallow-drops and
flaws in the glasses. The maroon cloth, on or against which the exhibits
are placed, is of close texture, untouched by the moth, neither stained
nor meagre nor sunfaded; the revolving cases revolve freely without
rattling; there is not a speck of dust from one end of the building to
the other, because the menial staff are numerous enough to keep
everything clean, and the Curator's office is a veritable office--not a
shed or a bath-room, or a loose-box partitioned from the main building.
These things are so because money has been spent on the Museum, and it
is now a rebuke to all other Museums in India from Calcutta downwards.
Whether it is not too good to be buried away in a native State is a
question which envious men may raise and answer as they choose. Not long
ago, the editor of a Bombay paper passed through it, but having the
interests of the Egocentric Presidency before his eyes, dwelt more upon
the idea of the building than its structural beauties; saying that
Bombay, who professed a weakness for technical education, should be
ashamed of herself. And he was quite right.

The system of the Museum is complete in intention, as are its
appointments in design. At present there are some fifteen thousand
objects of art, covering a complete exposition of the arts, from enamels
to pottery and f