It is very likely that ancient engravings of Palaces and great courts, with the delicate flourishes of their lettering and their dainty ornamentations, lend to the buildings they portray a greater beauty than they actually possess. But it is difficult to look at any old pictures of the first two Exchanges and flatter oneself into the belief that the third Exchange vies with either of them in grace. Art is the strangest and most illusive creature--at one time it will visit a whole race of men, so that nothing they do will be insignificant or mean. Thus, the adventurers, who sailed out to the Spanish Main in the days of Queen Elizabeth, wrote down the histories of their voyages in such great English as men to-day would give their ears to have at their command; and, moreover, they wrote it easily and with a running pen. At other times Art has refused to touch with inspiration a single soul of them. The architects of the Victorian Age were not men who dreamed in stone. They could pass down Parliament Street, by the Horse Guards, Whitehall and Westminster Hall with a bandage over their eyes and over their spirit. They gave us the Crystal Palace and all the dreariness of the Cromwell Road. Londoners may be thankful when they look upon the Royal Exchange as it stands to-day. The best of it is undoubtedly the front, with its great Corinthian Pillars, its high flight of steps and the open spread of pavement in front of it. For the rest, if the building is plain, it is plain to the very point of dignity, and with its great and handsome offices, it serves its purpose to-day as the other Exchanges served theirs. It is not the purpose of this chapter to give you an account of the building. You can buy a little book for sixpence, rich in detail and curious information, from the Beadle at the door. You can walk out past the doors of Lloyd’s offices to the Peabody statue--if you will--and looking upwards see the gilt Grasshopper of Sir Thomas Gresham’s crest on the summit of the tower turning to the wind.