t broadly, boldly, and on the most
liberal lines by those who are responsible for London's welfare.

During the first half of the nineteenth century the economists will tell
one that England's commercial industries stagnated, but perhaps the
prodigious leaps which it was taking in the new competitive forces of the
new world made this theory into a condition.

In general, however, the tastes of the people were improving, and with the
freedom of the newspaper press, and the spread of general literature,
there came a desire for many elegancies and refinements hitherto
disregarded.

The foundation of the British Museum in 1750, by the purchase of the
library and collection of Sir Hans Sloane, and Montagu House, gave an
early impetus to the movement, which was again furthered when, in 1801,
George III. presented a collection of Egyptian antiquities, and in 1805
and 1806 were purchased the Townley and Elgin marbles respectively. The
Museum continued to increase until, in 1823, when George IV. presented his
father's library of sixty-five thousand volumes, Montagu House was found
to be quite inadequate for its purpose, and the present building, designed
by Sir Robert Smirke, and completed in 1827, was erected on its site. In
making this gift, the king said, "for the purpose of advancing the
literature of his country, and as a just tribute to the memory of a parent
whose life was adorned with every public and private virtue."

The magnificent reading-room was not constructed until 1855-57, but it
became a "felt want" from the time when George IV. made his valuable
presentation to the Museum. The great "reading age" was then only in its
infancy.

Early in 1830 George IV. fell ill, and on the 25th of June he died. During
his regency, although he himself had little to do with the matter, his
name was associated with many splendid triumphs, by the marvellous
progress of intellect, and by remarkable improvements in the liberal arts.
With fine abilities and charming manners, England might have been proud
of such a king, but he squandered his talents for his own gratification;
alienated himself from all right-minded men; lived a disgraceful life, and
died the subject of almost universal contempt. His epitaph has been
written thus: "He was a bad son, a bad husband, a bad father, a bad
subject, a bad monarch, and a bad friend."

The memory of old London is in no way kept more lively than by the
numerous City Companies or Guilds. Es