alike by the Graces and the Muse, should in their gentle lives have been, "like Juno's swans, coupled and inseparable." Mary, Mrs. Tickel, died first; and Moore, in his _Life of Sheridan, _has preserved a lament for her, written by Eliza, Mrs. Sheridan, which--for deep, true sorrow and melodious eloquence--is worthy to be named with Thomas Tickel's monody on Addison or Cowper's memorial lines on his mother's picture:-- "Shall all the wisdom of the world combined Erase thy image, Mary, from my mind, Or bid me hope from others to receive The fond affection thou alone couldst give? Ah no, my best beloved, thou still shalt be My friend, my sister, all the world to me!" Precious also among the gems of the Dulwich gallery are certain excellent specimens of the gentle, dreamy style of Murillo. The pilgrim passes on, by a short drive, to Sydenham, and dines at the Crystal Palace--and still he finds the faces of the past and the present confronted, in a manner that is almost comic. Nothing could be more aptly representative of the practical, ostentatious phase of the spirit of to-day than is this enormous, opulent, and glittering "palace made of windows." Yet I saw there the carriage in which Napoleon Buonaparte used to drive, at St. Helena--a vehicle as sombre and ghastly as were the broken fortunes of its death-stricken master; and, sitting at a table close by, I saw the son of Buonaparte's fiery champion, William Hazlitt. Illustration: "Dulwich College." It was a gray and misty evening. The plains below the palace terraces were veiled in shadow, through which, here and there, twinkled the lights of some peaceful villa. Far away the spires and domes of London, dimly seen, pierced the city's nightly pall of smoke. It was a dream too sweet to last. It ended when all the illuminations were burnt out; when the myriads of red and green and yellow stars had fallen; and all the silver fountains had ceased to play. Illustration: "The Crown Inn, Dulwich." CHAPTER X RELICS OF LORD BYRON The Byron Memorial Loan Collection, that was displayed at the Albert Memorial Hall, for a short time in the summer of 1877, did not attract much attention: yet it was a vastly impressive show of relics. The catalogue names seventy-four objects, together with thirty-nine designs for a monument to Byron. The design that has been chosen presents a seated figure, of the young sailor-boy type. The right hand supports the chin; the left, resting on the left knee, holds an open book and a pencil. The dress consists of a loose shirt, open at the throat and on the bosom, a flowing neckcloth, and wide, marine trousers. Byron's dog, Boatswain--commemorated in the well-known misanthropic epitaph-- "To mark a friend's remains these stones arise, I never knew but one, and here he lies"--