At all events, the condition, as to space, of the CHRISTY Museum in Victoria Street, no less than the condition, in that respect, of portions of the general Museum of Antiquities at Bloomsbury itself—and of nearly all our splendid national collections in Natural History—gives tenfold importance to that question of speedy enlargement or efficient reconstruction which it will be my duty rather to state, than to discuss, in the next chapter. [Sidenote: THE STATE OF THE CHRISTY COLLECTION VIEWED IN ITS BEARINGS UPON THE QUESTION OF MUSEUM RECONSTRUCTION.] It will be my earnest aim to state it with impartiality, and, for the most part, in better words than my own. [Sidenote: THE ARCHÆOLOGICAL BEQUEST OF JAMES WOODHOUSE, OF CORFU.] Next in importance—but next at a long interval—to the accessions which the Nation owes to the munificence of Henry CHRISTY, comes the bequest of Mr. James WOODHOUSE, of Corfu, the circumstances attendant upon which have much singularity. It is only of late years (speaking comparatively) that British Consuls have become at all notable as collectors of antiquities. But when once the new fashion was set, it spread rapidly, and it may now be hoped that there will be as little lack of continuance as of speed. In Chapter V, I had to mention (though very inadequately to the worth of their labours) several Consuls in the Levant, who have eminently distinguished themselves in augmenting our National Museum. But in this chapter the reader must be introduced to a Consul who rather obstructed than promoted a worthy public object. James WOODHOUSE was a British subject engaged in commerce, who had resided for many years at Corfu (where for a time he had filled the office of Government Secretary), and who consoled his self-imposed exile by collecting a cabinet of coins, which eventually became one of great value, and also an extensive museum of miscellaneous, but chiefly of Greek, antiquities. Repeatedly, during his lifetime, he announced his desire and purpose to perpetuate his collection by giving it to the British Museum. When his health failed, he began to superintend in person the packing up of the most valuable portions of his museum; but illness grew upon him, and he was forced to leave off his preparations abruptly.