It would be impossible to fill the wall-cases, if properly
proportioned, with these few, even given all the favourable conditions
of procuring the "accidentals" and varieties, under ten years. It is
quite true, also, that the contemplation of purely local fauna, though
giving interest to, and holding undue importance in the eyes of a few
men, who narrow their views to their own county (which, perhaps, they
believe in to such an extent as to seldom pass its boundaries), is
misleading and even possibly damaging to the student of biology, who
must be shown, in the clearest possible manner, the affinities--say,
of such a well-known bird as the heron, which a local collection will
tell him, by means of a huge and unblushing label, is a "Blankshire
bird," shot somewhere in the vicinity; not a word is said as to its
being also a "British" bird and also a "Foreign" bird, the heron
ranging throughout every county in Britain, throughout Europe, the
greater part of Africa and Asia, and even penetrating into Australia.

The remedy for this is a typical "general" collection--running around
the room, let us say--and a "local" collection entirely distinct and
separate.

First, in the structural necessities of a museum, I place well-lighted
rooms--preferably from the top. Of course, side windows, though giving
an increase of light, yet by that very increase become objectionable
by making cross lights, which the sheets of glass enclosing the
various objects tend to multiply; next, the colour of the walls--this
is very important. Some museums have blue or Pompeian-red walls, under
the impression that it suits certain objects; in the instances of
pictures or statuary, etc, it may be right, but, for natural history
objects, nothing suits them and shows them up better than a light
neutral tint--one of the tertiaries--lightened considerably, until it
arrives at a light stone, very light sage, or pale slate colour.
[Footnote: The Leicester Museum, when I first came to it, had the
walls of its chief room, the then "Curiosity shop," painted dull dark
red, cut up by twenty-four pilasters of ad deep green in imitation of
marble; the ceiling bad not been whitened for twenty years, and the
birds and animals on "hat-pegs," in cases with small panes of glass,
etc, were frightfully contrasted by a backing of crude, deep
ultramarine-blue! Three primary colours. Could human perversity and
bad taste go much further?]

The pilasters, if any, must be