od
for the artist's interest than Paris or the Italian towns. Not that
you do not find a great number of rare works of art in England. But
most of them are owned by wealthy private persons, whose country
houses and provincial seats they adorn. At the period I mention,
London had no picture gallery, that now existing being the result of
legacies and gifts to the nation made within a few years. In default
of pictures, I went to look at the public edifices. I returned several
times to Westminster Abbey, where the tombs of the kings and queens
are superb. As they belong to different ages they offer great
attractions to artists and fanciers. I admired, among others, the tomb
of Mary Stuart, in which the remains of that ill-fated Queen were
deposited by her son, James I. I spent much time in that part of the
church devoted to the sepulture of the great poets, Milton, Pope, and
Chatterton. This last-named is known to have poisoned himself while
dying of starvation, and I reflected that the money laid out upon
rendering him these posthumous honours might have sufficed, when he
was alive, to insure him comfortable days.

St. Paul's Cathedral is also very fine. Its dome is an imitation of
that of St. Peter's, at Rome. At the Tower of London I saw a very
interesting collection of armour, dating from the various centuries.
There is a row of royal figures on horseback, among them Elizabeth,
mounted on a courser and ready to review her troops. The London museum
contains a collection of minerals, birds, weapons and tools from the
South Sea Islands, due to the famous Captain Cook.

The streets of London are wide and clean. Broad side pavements make
them very convenient for foot-passengers, and one is the more
surprised to witness scenes upon them that ought to be proscribed by
civilisation. It is not rare to see boxers fighting and wounding each
other to the point of drawing blood. Far from such a spectacle seeming
to shock the people looking on, they give them glasses of gin to
stimulate their zeal.

Sunday in London is as dismal as the climate. Not a shop is open;
there are no plays, nor balls, nor concerts. Universal silence reigns,
and as on that day no one is allowed to work nor even to play music
without incurring the risk of having his windows broken by the
populace, there is no resource for killing time but the public walks.
These, indeed, are very well frequented.

The chief amusement of the town is the assembling of good