f
the Bank of England, and men coming in and going out with weighty bags
of the precious metal in their hands, or on their shoulders, I could not
but think of the great contrast between the monster Institution, within
whose walls I was then standing, and the Wild Cat Banks of America!

LETTER IX.

_The British Museum--A Portrait--Night Reading--A Dark Day--A Fugitive
Slave on the Streets of London,--A Friend in the time of need._

LONDON, _Sept. 24_.

I have devoted the past ten days to sight-seeing in the Metropolis--the
first two of which were spent in the British Museum. After procuring a
guide-book at the door as I entered, I seated myself on the first seat
that caught my eye, arranged as well as I could in my mind the different
rooms, and then commenced in good earnest. The first part I visited was
the Gallery of Antiquities, through to the north gallery, and thence
to the Lycian Room. This place is filled with tombs, bas-reliefs,
statues, and other productions of the same art. Venus, seated, and
smelling a lotus flower which she held in her hand, and attended by
three graces, put a stop to the rapid strides that I was making through
this part of the hall. This is really one of the most precious
productions of the art that I have ever seen. Many of the figures in
this room are very much mutilated, yet one can linger here for hours
with interest. A good number of the statues are of uncertain date; they
are of great value as works of art, and more so as a means of
enlightening much that has been obscure with respect to Lycia, an
ancient and celebrated country of Asia Minor.

In passing through the eastern Zoological Gallery, I was surrounded on
every side by an army of portraits suspended upon the walls; and among
these was the Protector. The people of one century kicks his bones
through the streets of London, another puts his portrait in the British
Museum, and a future generation may possibly give him a place in
Westminster Abbey. Such is the uncertainty of the human character.
Yesterday, a common soldier--to-day, the ruler of an empire--to-morrow,
suspended upon the gallows. In an adjoining room I saw a portrait of
Baxter, which gives one a pretty good idea of the great Nonconformist.
In the same room hung a splendid modern portrait, without any intimation
in the guide-book of who it represented, or when it was painted. It was
so much like one whom I had seen, and on whom my affect