which Benjamin consulted, every half-hour, with prodigious veneration. Two small glass chandeliers were suspended at equal distances between the stove and the outer doors, one of which opened at either end of the hall, and gilt lustres were affixed to the frame-work of the numerous side doors that led from the apartment. Some little display in architecture had been made in constructing these frames and casings, which were surmounted with pediments, that bore each a little pedestal in its centre. On these pedestals were small busts in blacked plaster of Paris. The style of the pedestals, as well as the selection of the busts, had been executed under the auspices of Mr. Jones. On one stood Homer, a most striking likeness, Richard affirmed, "as any one might see, for it was blind." Another bore the image of a smooth visaged gentleman, with a pointed beard, whom he called Shakspeare. A third ornament was an urn, which, from its shape, Richard was accustomed to say, intended to represent itself as holding the ashes of Dido. A fourth was certainly old Franklin, in his cap and spectacles. A fifth as surely bore the dignified composure of the face of Washington. A sixth was a non-descript, representing "a man with a shirt-collar open," to use the language of Richard, "with a laurel on his head; it was Julius Cæsar or Dr. Faustus; there were good reasons for believing either."
The walls were hung with a dark, lead-coloured English paper, that represented Britannia weeping over the tomb of Wolfe. The hero himself stood at a little distance from the mourning goddess, at the edge of the paper. Each width contained the figure, with the slight exception of one arm of the General running over on to the next piece, so that when Richard essayed, with his own hands, to put together this delicate outline, some difficulties
