was not meant for the place to which most of its touches applied so exactly, and Pope's denials were not taken for gospel by those who knew him. But now the building that was a town, the pond that was an ocean, the pasture that was a down, the gardens where grove nodded to grove, the "trees cut to statues, statues thick as trees," the summerhouses without shade and the fountains without water, were all pulled down, filled up, and demolished. The library with its books,

"These Aldus printed, those Du Sueil has bound; '

the chapel with its silver bell and Father Smith's organ, at which Pepusch officiated as organist, and for which Handel composed anthems by the score; the ceilings "where sprawl the saints of Verrio and Laguerre," the marble dining halls and long-drawn colonnades were levelled with the dust, and all of them that could be detached knocked down to the highest bidder and carted off. Chesterfield House had the grand stair-case; and now here was George I., one of the Canons troop of equestrian statues, being set up, under the Duke of Chandos's own eyes, in Leicester Fields. Statues in lead or mixed metal,

after the Dutch taste, were all the rage then, and the makers of these works of art-often clever designers-drove a roaring trade. Piccadilly was full of their yards. The Canons statues had been turned out by Van Ost, and his pupil, Charpentière, who both afterwards kept famous manufactures of these metal decorations on the site of Cambridge House and Hertford House, in Piccadilly (where such establishments abounded last century, as the stone-cutters along the New Road in this). The horse of George I. was modelled after that of Le Sueur at Charing Cross. It was not in lead, but mixed metal, and richly gilt. I daresay many of the crowd in the Fields took it for real gold, as it shone in the winter sunshine, if, by a happy chance, the sun looked out that 19th of November. Looking on from a first-floor window of the last house but two on the east of the Fields, I have no doubt was Hogarth. His first very successful work, sixteen years before, had been a satirical print called "The Taste of the Times," in which Pope had been introduced as a whitewasher on a scaffold before Burlington Gate, bespattering the Magnificent Duke of Chandos,

as he passed in his chariot below, in allusion to that very attack of the poet's on Timon's villa, dedicated to Lord Burlington. Hogarth may well have thought of the revenges of time, now that, already, in twelve years, almost before Peer and Poet were cold in their graves,' was coming to fulfilment the poet's prophesy,

"Another age shall see the golden ear
Embrace the slope and nod on the parterre,
Deep harvests bury all his pride has planned,
And laughing Ceres reassume the land."

How the statue came to be set up in Leicester Fields I have no information, beyond the contemporary statement that it was bought by the inhabitants. The Marquis of Aylesbury, who was one of the trustees under the Chandos settlements, as the owner of Savile House, may have had some connection with the purchase. The Duke of Chandos is not likely to have had anything to say or do with the setting up in front of Leicester House so conspicuous a memento mori of Canons. But considering the relations between father and son in the royal