ceremony. Passing along an aisle leading to the grand hall, we saw the
tomb of Aymer de Valence, a knight of the Crusades. Near here is the
hall where the Knights of the order of Bath met. Over each seat their
dusty banners are still hanging, each with its crest, and their armor is
rusting upon the wall. It seemed like a banqueting hall of the olden
time, where the knights had left their seats for a moment vacant.
Entering the nave, we were lost in the wilderness of sculpture. Here
stood the forms of Pitt, Fox, Burke, Sheridan and Watts, from the
chisels of Chantry, Bacon and Westmacott. Further down were Sir Isaac
Newton and Sir Godfrey Kneller--opposite Andre, and Paoli, the Italian,
who died here in exile. How can I convey an idea of the scene?
Notwithstanding all the descriptions I had read, I was totally
unprepared for the reality, nor could I have anticipated the hushed and
breathless interest with which I paced the dim aisles, gazing, at every
step, on the last resting place of some great and familiar name. A place
so sacred to all who inherit the English tongue, is worthy of a special
pilgrimage across the deep. To those who are unable to visit it, a
description may be interesting; but so far does it fall short of the
scene itself, that if I thought it would induce a few of our wealthy
idlers, or even those who, like myself, must travel with toil and
privation to come hither, I would write till the pen dropped from my
hand.

More than twenty grand halls of the British Museum are devoted to
antiquities, and include the Elgin Marbles--the spoils of the
Parthenon--the Fellows Marbles, brought from the ancient city of
Xanthus, and Sir William Hamilton's collection of Italian antiquities.
It was painful to see the friezes of the Parthenon, broken and defaced
as they are, in such a place. Rather let them moulder to dust on the
ruin from which they were torn, shining through the blue veil of the