astonished to learn, that in the early days of the
museum, those persons who wished to inspect the national
collection, were required to make previous application
to the porter, in writing, stating their names, condition,
and places of abode, as also the day and hour at which
they desired to be admitted. Their applications
were written down in a register, which was submitted
every evening to the librarian or secretary in attendance.
If this official, judging from the condition and ostensible
character of an applicant, deemed him eligible for
admittance, he directed the porter to give him a ticket
on the following day. Thus the candidate for admission
was compelled to make two visits, before he could
learn whether it was the gracious will of a librarian
or secretary that he should be allowed the privilege
of inspecting Sir Hans Sloane’s curiosities.
If successful, his trouble did not end when he obtained
the ticket; for it was provided by the trustees that
no more than ten tickets should be given out for each
hour of admittance. Accordingly, every morning
on which the museum was accessible, the porter received
a company of ten ticket-holders at nine o’clock,
ushered them into a waiting-room “till the hour
of seeing the museum had come,” to quote the
words of the trustees. This party was divided
into two groups of five persons, one being placed
under the direction of the under-librarian, and the
other under that of the assistant in each department.
Thus attended, the companies traversed the galleries;
and, on a signal being given by the tinkling of a
bell, they passed from one department of the collection
into another:—an hour being the utmost time
allowed for the inspection of one department.
This system calls to mind the dragooning practised
in Westminster Abbey, under the command of the gallant
vergers, to the annoyance of leisurely visitors, and
of ardent but not active archaeologists. Sometimes,
when public curiosity was particularly excited, the
number of respectable applicants for admission to
the museum exceeded the limit of the prescribed issue.
In these cases, tickets were given for remote days;
and thus, at times, when the lists were heavy, it
must have been impossible for a passing visitor in
London to get within the gateway of Montague House.
In these old regulations the trustees provided also,
that when any person, having obtained tickets, was
prevented from making use of them at the appointed
time, he was to send them back to the porter, in order
“that other persons wanting to see the museum
might not be excluded.” Three hours was
the limit of the time any company might spend in the
museum; and those who were so unreasonable or inquisitive
as to be desirous of visiting the museum more than
once, might apply for tickets a second time “provided
that no person had tickets at the same time for more
than one.” The names of those persons who,
in the course of a visit, wilfully transgressed any
of the rules laid down by the trustees, were written
in a register, and the porter was directed not to
issue tickets to them again.