A certain distance, however, is requisite for the view, and this it is most difficult to obtain; on closer inspection it will be seen that the imposing range of pillars rather draws attention to, than serves to conceal, the frightful sash windows which glare from behind it, and whose light it obscures. In the tympanum of the portico is a group of sculptured figures by Sir R. Westmacott. To this M. Edgar Vinet, in a notice of the British Museum in the _Journal des Débats_, written in 1858 (30th of December) alludes in the following words:—“Un fronton récemment terminé, et dans lequel Sir Richard Westmacott, ce qui se conçoit pour un sujet pareil, a représenté, d’une manière un peu confuse, l’homme passant de l’état sauvage, sans l’influence de la religion, à la civilisation et au progrès.” This cluster of sculpture is by no means happy, and the kindly phrase of our critic, “une manière un peu confuse,” might, with a little freedom and more truth, be rendered by the English words, muddle, cram, and confusion. On either flank of the main building, and in advance of it, is a block of official dwelling-houses, which, as some may remember, called down much denunciation at the time they were erected; they are, however, so void of pretentiousness that they seem hardly to deserve any very lavish outpouring of righteous indignation. It is enough to say of them that they would have been better away. The British Museum is, however, more admirable inside than out. Here, nevertheless, the Nemesis of the style pursues the observer even more unrelentingly. If some of the vast and dismal rooms be not the very halls of Eblis, at least they are eminently fitted for the depositories of the sarcophagi of those who have descended thither. The beauty of their contents may, it is true, engross the visitor’s attention for a time, but he can hardly hope to remain long free from the depression and melancholy with which the surrounding air seems impregnated. The lighting (and here, again, the blame must be exclusively laid on the style adopted) is in many places most defective; as to the mural decoration, it cannot be better described than in the words of the already quoted M. Vinet:—A l’exception de la salle de lecture, vaste rotonde dont la coupole reluit d’or la, décoration intérieure du Musée Britannique vous étonne par sa simplicité; les murailles sont nues, quelques méandres, peints à l’encaustique, entourent des plafonds percés par un vitrage, par où passe une lumière froide et grise: voilà tout ce que l’orgueilleuse Albion a cru devoir accorder à l’embellissement intérieur de son Musée: décoration conçue avec un tel puritanisme qu’elle est restée au dessous des salles d’attente des chemins de fer, comme ornementation et comme goût. Une large cheminée de fonte, chauffée à blanc huit mois de l’année, occupe le centre de chaque pièce, et, par son prosaïsme forme le plus étrange contraste avec les œuvres élégantes, filles du soleil, qui l’entourent.”