The reader will perceive that for what was achieved, in 1845 and in the subsequent years, on the banks of the Tigris, the British public owe a debt of gratitude to Lord STRATFORD DE REDCLIFFE, the encourager of the enterprise, as well as to Mr. LAYARD, its originator. But neither does this fact, nor does the like of it, five years earlier, in the help given by Lord PONSONBY to the Lycian researches of Sir Charles FELLOWS, invalidate or weaken the remark I have ventured to make (on pages 348; 381, of the present volume, and elsewhere) about the discreditable and long-continued apathy of our Foreign Office in matters of art and literature; especially if we compare on that head British practice with French practice. Perhaps, at first blush, it might be thought somewhat presumptuous, in a private person, to remark so freely on what seem to him the shortcomings of statesmen. But it has to be borne in mind that, in such cases as this, outspoken criticism is rather the expression of known public opinion, than of mere individual judgment. The one writer, how humble soever, is very often the mouthpiece of the thoughts of many minds. Nor is other warrant for such criticism lacking. _Three years_ after beginning his excavations at Nimroud, Mr. LAYARD himself wrote thus (from Cheltenham):—‘It is to be regretted that proper steps have not been taken for the transport to England of the sculptures discovered at Nineveh. Those which have already reached this country, and (it is to be feared) those which are now on their way, have consequently suffered _unnecessary_ injury; ... yet, ... [Sidenote: _Nineveh and its Remains_, vol. i, p. xiii.] they are almost the only remains of a great city and of a great nation.’ Part of the injury now observable in the Assyrian sculptures of the British Museum was, of course, inseparable from circumstances attending the discovery. Besides the injury already spoken of—from the pressure of the earth-banks—all the low-reliefs of one great palace had suffered from intense heat. From this cause, Mr. LAYARD’S experiences recall, in one particular, the impressive accounts we have all read of the opening of ancient tombs in Egypt and in Italy. The fortunate excavator suddenly beheld a kingly personage, in fashion as he lived. The royal forehead was still encircled by a regal crown. The fingers were decked with rings; the hand, mayhap, grasped a sceptre. But whilst the discoverer was still gazing in the first flush of admiration, the countenance changed; the ornaments crumbled; the sceptre and the hand that held it alike became dust. So it was, at times, at Nimroud. Some of the calcined slabs presented, for a moment, their story in its integrity. Presently, they fell into fragments. [Sidenote: MIXED NATURE OF THE CAUSES OF THE MUTILATIONS OBSERVABLE IN THE MUSEUM SCULPTURES FROM ASSYRIA.]