532 MUSEUMS. 



museums alone seem to have stood stock-still, with the most invinci- 

 ble pertinacity. I allude not to the mere buildings themselves ; 

 they, indeed, are ever on the change. Scarcely a year passes over 

 our heads but some new structure is raised by the votaries of natural 

 history, with an outside of beautiful architecture, but with inner 

 apartments destined to receive articles of old and execrable work- 

 manship. 



When I visit these magnificent buildings, in the different countries 

 through which I pass, I can scarcely refrain from quoting the old 



verses : 



'* The walls are thick, the servants thin, 

 The gods without, the devils within." 



In every department dedicated to the arts and sciences, saving that 

 of natural history, we find the materials in the inner places quite upon 

 a par with, and often vastly superior to, the outer workmanship of the 

 building itself. Thus, he who dedicates a gallery to painting, always 

 takes care to have a show of pictures which will adorn the walls ; 

 and he who builds an ornamental library, seldom fails to fill it with 

 books far more costly and important than anything in the composi- 

 tion of the structure which he has raised for their reception. But 

 when a committee of gentlemen is chosen to form a museum, their 

 attention to the outer parts of the building seems to know no 

 bounds ; whilst the ornamenting of the interior (which, by the way, 

 ought to be considered as the very marrow and essence of the estab- 

 lishment) is left to pure chance. Thus the members tell the public 

 that they will be thankful for private donations. They often deposit 

 specimens of their own in the museum, and authorise their curator 

 to pick up what he can at different public sales. The lavish expen- 

 diture on the outside of the temple, and parsimony with regard to 

 the internal decorations, is giving, as it were, too much to the body, 

 and too little to the soul. 



Still, the directors do not see the thing in this light. They go 

 jogging on in the old beaten path; and I don't know whether it be 

 very prudent in me to hint that it is high time for them both to 

 digress and to mend their pace. I am much more cautious now, 

 than I used formerly to be, in giving my opinion when I enter a 

 museum. The burnt child generally dreads the fire. 



