m into a waiting-room "till
the hour of seeing the museum had come," to quote the words of the
trustees. This party was divided into two groups of five persons, one
being placed under the direction of the under-librarian, and the other
under that of the assistant in each department. Thus attended, the
companies traversed the galleries; and, on a signal being given by the
tinkling of a bell, they passed from one department of the collection
into another:--an hour being the utmost time allowed for the
inspection of one department. This system calls to mind the dragooning
practised in Westminster Abbey, under the command of the gallant
vergers, to the annoyance of leisurely visitors, and of ardent but not
active archaeologists. Sometimes, when public curiosity was
particularly excited, the number of respectable applicants for
admission to the museum exceeded the limit of the prescribed issue. In
these cases, tickets were given for remote days; and thus, at times,
when the lists were heavy, it must have been impossible for a passing
visitor in London to get within the gateway of Montague House. In
these old regulations the trustees provided also, that when any
person, having obtained tickets, was prevented from making use of them
at the appointed time, he was to send them back to the porter, in
order "that other persons wanting to see the museum might not be
excluded." Three hours was the limit of the time any company might
spend in the museum; and those who were so unreasonable or inquisitive
as to be desirous of visiting the museum more than once, might apply
for tickets a second time "provided that no person had tickets at the
same time for more than one." The names of those persons who, in the
course of a visit, wilfully transgressed any of the rules laid down by
the trustees, were written in a register, and the porter was directed
not to issue tickets to them again.

These regulations secured the exclusive attendance of the upper
classes. The libraries were hoarded for the particular enjoyment of
the worm, whose feast was only at rare intervals disturbed by some
student regardless of difficulties. To the poor, worn, unheeded
authors of those days, serenely starving in garrets, assuredly the
British Museum must have been as impenetrable as a Bastille. We
imagine the prim under-librarian glancing with a supercilious
expression upon the names and addresses of many poor, aspiring,
honourable men--men, whose "condition," t