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LLOYD'S SOCIETY OF UNDERWRITERS.

I Do not visit the City much now, though familiar with most of its ways and byways; but when I re-enter for a short time its bustling precincts, old associations take life and colour anew, and the streets and buildings assume a freshness and interest which seemed, in my case, lost for

ever.

The other day, turning from the fire-office into the ambulatory of the Exchange, and in the act of deepening my conviction that it was far inferior to that of the former building, a City friend accosted me, wondering what I could want there; and kindly wishing me to make my visit profitable, asked me if I had ever been over Lloyd's, or should like to renew my acquaintance with that most remarkable establishment. It would have been against my principles to refuse a good offer—that is, when I think it so-and in a few minutes we were ascending the wide stone staircase leading to the sanctum of marine assurance brokers. My friend said that the stairs in question-and there are several flights-sorely annoyed some of the elder members, though they did not like to own their shortwindedness, and strove to disguise it by an affectation of a mere catarrhal trouble. I could not help noticing a round, puffy-looking gentleman, who, as he toiled up the stairs,

was evidently anathematizing the architect; and, in truth, after threescore, level progress is the most agreeable.

The public are not admitted to the arcana of Lloyd's; you must be a member, or introduced by a member. If you wish to enter, and can name any initiated friend-Mr. John Jones, for instance-Mr. John Jones is loudly summoned to your aid; but without such franking you will have to return ungratified. Still, even a stranger may penetrate as far as the anteroom, where the eye is instantly attracted by two whole-length statues, representing Prince Albert and Mr. Huskisson. The royal effigy is a sad failure; the Prince is chiselled of the natural height, decked out in all the finery of a Knight of the Garter, with roses on his shoes, the ribbon above his knee, and the order on his breast, but with legs disproportionately extended, so that he might be entitled "long-shanks," and a head disproportionately small, and almost smothered by the robes rising around it. The expression of the countenance, too, is not in the least heroic, and standing opposite the gigantic statue of Huskisson, the whole work seems singularly poor and trivial.* The Huskisson of Lloyd's is modelled after the Dr. Johnson of St. Paul's Cathedral-vast, brawny, and muscular-naked as far as decency permits-and resembling a huge porter preparing for the bath. Why are our artists capable of such folly? What would they say should an antique statue turn up disfigured by our close-fitting and most ugly costume? Surely, as Athenians were always represented like Athenians, Englishmen should put on English habits for their marble apotheoses. The error is the more lamentable in this case, because the work other

The

* Most of the royal statues in London are poor and trivial. Queen at the Exchange is quite a libel on Her Majesty; and this marble portrait of the Prince Consort, whom we all knew and lament as an equally fine specimen of the gentleman and the prince, is altogether unworthy of him.

wise is really a noble one, and does honour to the subscribers. Close to these statues, a white sheet of marble records in appropriate language the public spirit of the proprietors of the Times in prosecuting to conviction, at an immense expense, certain fraudulent City merchants-exceptions and blots in that highly honourable class. The "Times Testimonial" will always be read with deep interest, both as eulogistic of the press and our commercial community. A second tablet sets forth, simply but forcibly, the munificence of Mr. Citizen Lydeker, who gave his large fortune to promote the objects of the Marine Society, in succouring and educating the widows and orphans of commanders and officers in our trading navy; at a little distance, too, a diminutive mural stone represents Charity in the act of helping a friendless lad, with such attributes as to remind all visitors of the advantages conferred so liberally by the Marine Society. Long may benevolence brighten and strengthen our commercial greatness! The present home of the underwriters is admirably and conveniently arranged. I can just remember the old house-dark, dingy, and perplexing; and as some worthy merchants will never suffer their counting-houses to be cleaned out, much less whitewashed or painted, so the Lloyd's shrine of the past seemed to rejoice in its want of comfort and convenience. The chief room now is exceedingly commodious, well lighted by several skylights-nobly set among very fine mouldings-while the walls are as pure-looking as paint can make them. The space, perhaps 80 feet by 70, is set out in ranges of double-seated boxes, with centre tables, the whole having a wide avenue in the middle. These tables are fully occupied, during business hours, by the members, either expecting calls to, or actually engaged in, professional duties. Of course, the rates of assurance on shipping and cargoes vary. Is the vessel sound, new, A 1, or old and in doubtful repair? Is it about to track a winter or a

summer sea? Then, what is your commodity-brimstone or flour, wine or sulphuric acid? On such, or similar accounts, the per-centage required varies from fifteen to forty, and, in extremely hazardous cases, to fifty, or even more. Nor must you expect a single underwriter to take the whole risk. You wish to insure, say £1,500, against risks at sea. Well, Mr. A. will take £100, Mr. B. £150, Mr. C. £300, and so on, till your venture is safe—a plan obviously wise, and satisfactory to all parties; for thus, while the risk diminishes on one side, the security increases on the other. Losses from the inefficiency of underwriters are exceedingly rare, nor are there many actions at law on such subjects-much fewer, indeed, than the vast interests represented would make probable. Wonderful London! illustrious merchant princes! who thus make commerce safe when it seems most dangerous, and interpose the impenetrable ægis of credit between the perils of the "great deep" and the costly freights embarked upon it.

The chief room would yield an interesting subject for an able artist; every box and table would be an excellent study, and he would not have to pay for sitters. Throw a glance along the benches. What a variety of faces! What restless energy marks some!-what indomitable perseverance others! A few look apathetic, and on a few the deep lines of disappointment may be readily traced. There is a strong light on the table to the left; how finely it brings out the countenance of the white-haired old gentleman so earnestly engaged in talk with the foreign merchant by his side! In the next box, the most remarkable head is that of a Hebrew underwriter, who is transacting business with a Portuguese captain; the bushy head of the latter sets off his bronzed, weather-beaten face to great advantage. Here may be found representatives of every trading community in the world, who, thus brought to

gether, soon learn how to understand and sympathize, for they have a common object-gain!

There are a few

Now let us step into the map-room tables and seats in the centre, but on each side a narrow wooden stair conducts to a sort of gallery, in each of which maps and charts, hung on rolls, readily moveable at the slightest touch, are prepared to give their silently eloquent responses to all inquirers. A correspondent informs a member that the vessel he is anxious about is laid up in such a port, or may be now crossing such a gulf, or beating about on such an ocean; immediately the maps are in requisition, and the ship's exact locality is easily ascertained. Experienced underwriters can put their finger on the spot indicated in a moment, and many a merchant who has never smelt salt water is quite familiar with every point of the compass. Then we enter the reading-room-a reading-room without newspapers. You pass down the middle, having on each side long oaken sideboards, covered with rows of stout quarto books, containing letters, arranged according to the country from which they come, and all of them capable of being detached when necessary. These are reports as to the merchant marine of every nation, and especially of our own; and the incomers of a morning con over the fresh arrivals with as much eagerness as a young lady would her billets-doux the day after the 14th of February. There is a sort of demon-worship exceedingly prevalent, even in moral and religious quarters, and Mammon is worshipped here, by old and young, with undisguised zeal. Yet, though money is the root of all evil, its fruit is often unexceptionably good; and, while we cannot honour "Avarice, that keen, old, gentlemanly vice," we can easily cite examples of the wealth resulting from a life's labour, or one fortunate speculation, being scattered abroad with a liberal hand. "They have dispersed, they have given to