The Merry Past 



upon the hook numbered the same as his seat, and 

 he was thus at his ease when the dinner commenced ; 

 those who came in late took their seats below those 

 who were already seated. 



The harmony of this place was, after some time, 

 interrupted by the foreigners, who being constantly 

 there, contrived to get one of their own number into 

 the chair, as perpetual president, and the rest on 

 each side of him in succession, according to their 

 notions of their relative importance. 



Leicester Fields, now Leicester Square, passed 

 through many vicissitudes before they became the 

 decorous site of palatial music-halls and fine buildings 

 such as it now is. It was Baron Grant who con- 

 verted the square, formerly disfigured by a tumble- 

 down statue and a singularly ill-kept spot, into the 

 public gardens which exist to-day. Londoners of 

 the past were not very enthusiastic about statuary. 



When the statue of the Duke of Bedford in Russell 

 Square was first exposed to public view in August, 

 1809, it attracted a good deal of attention and con- 

 troversy, besides incidentally causing a fierce combat 

 between two Irish art connoisseurs in a humble walk 

 of life. 



An exceedingly rough crowd having assembled near 

 the statue, it was not very long before differences of 

 opinion began to make themselves felt. 



Mr. O'Flannagan, who was a composer of mortar, 

 insisted it was made of cast stone, and represented the 

 Duke of Bedford ; and Mr. O'Shaughnessy, who was 

 a rough lapidary, vulgarly called a pavior, contended 



190 



