previously seen in my Day Dream at Lake Sorell. There were musical instruments of strange construction, on some of which he played with considerable skill. There were books which I did not venture to look into; models of ships of the time of Henry the Eighth. The fleets of Spain were represented hovering on the coast of England. Nor did my clever friend forget to portray some of the most charming scenes of antiquity, as they have been brought before us by the poets and historians of bygone ages.
Seated on massive antique chairs, and arranged in various and picturesque groups here and there, were a number of finely dressed ladies and gentlemen, represented as drinking wine and chocolate, and talking and laughing with each other. Their apparent thoughts could be traced in their faces in a most astonishing way: the young gentlemen with that self-satisfied smile which always follows a witty compliment to their fair auditors; the young ladies silently applauding with their bright eyes, ogling from behind their fans, and showing their pearly teeth. They had the startling appearance of being veritable tableaux vivants, without a trace of the tinselled impersonations of a wax-work exhibition. My guide brought me before a stately and severe-looking man, and formally introduced me to King Charles the First; then to a very different kind of person—Oliver Cromwell. I found myself suddenly brought by name under the notice of William Shakespeare. John Milton, John Hampden, Admiral Blake, Queen Elizabeth, and a number of other great personages whose names are written elsewhere in letters of gold. Finally he led me to the contemplation of a magnificent equestrian statue, nearly the size of life, of his beautiful Helen, formed of semi-pellucid alabaster. It was placed in a recess or grotto, adorned with a countless number of shells of wonderful grandeur. We now stood gazing through the centre of the hall from one
