It was precisely the consciousness of this, I think, that used to hang over the BM, and give it such a leaden, hangdog feel. McGregor's achievement has been to transform what was previously a source of guilt into one of pride and excitement: the British Museum has been re-cast as a kind of cultural equivalent of Kew Gardens, a seedbed of global culture, to which all the world can come, and which in turn lends out its treasures wherever they might be needed. So it was that McGregor, in his lecture, spoke movingly and inspiringly about the work that the Museum has been doing in Sudan, in Kenya, and above all in Iraq: all countries that were pillaged by the British back in our imperial heyday, and where now, as though in recompense, the BM is committed to providing expertise, financial support, and even the loan back of certain artefacts. 

Mind you, it was noticeable that one country whose most famous works of art adorn the BM was NOT mentioned. True, the Parthenon freizes did make a fleeting appearance, courtesy of a slide displaying the covers of various Museum publications - but blink, and you would have missed it. Hardly surprising, of course. In a sense, McGregor's entire spell as director has been one concentrated and highly effective project of bomb-disposal - the bomb, of course, being the Elgin Marbles. That he managed to get away with delivering an anniversary lecture about the British Museum and its treasures, and not once allude to the most precious and notorious treasures of all, is perhaps the fullest measure of his achievement that there is.