tain the residence of any fair girl whose attractions particularly caught his fancy. There are many who may call to mind the flight of steps descending from the first floor into the street, which were constructed for the convenience of the duke in his latter days, and which have only within the last few years been removed.

The first street diverging from Piccadilly of any particular interest is Half Moon Street, which derives its name from a public-house called the "Half Moon," which stood at the corner. Here died the

charming comic actress, Mrs. Pope. After having performed at Drury Lane for forty years, she retired from the stage into private life, with an unblemished character and an easy fortune. She was supposed to bear a strong resemblance to the beautiful Lady Sarah Bunbury, the first, and perhaps the only, romantic love of George the Third. Many years after the beauty of both ladies had been on the decline, the king happened to attend the performances at Drury Lane when Mrs. Pope was acting. The recollection of his earliest love came back to his mind, and, in a moment of melancholy abstraction, he is said to have observed to the queen," She is like Lady Sarah still."

In 1768 we find Boswell lodging in Half Moon Street, and entertaining Doctor Johnson as his guest. At No. I also, at the close of life, resided Madame D'Arblay, the celebrated authoress of "Evelina," and "Cecilia."

Passing on, we come to Clarges Street, so called from its being the site of Clarges House, the residence of Sir Thomas Clarges, brother-in-law of the celebrated George Monk, Duke of Albemarle. In this street lived at one period the great admiral, Earl St. Vincent, and here, on the 19th of February, 1806, died, in extreme old age, the wellknown Mrs. Elizabeth Carter. At the northwest corner of Bolton Street, now occupied by Lord Ashburton, stood old Bath House, formerly the residence of William Pulteney, Earl of Bath, the formidable antagonist of Sir Robert Walpole; and from the house No. 80 Piccadilly, now occupied by the Duke of St. Albans, Sir Francis Burdett was taken to the Tower in 1810.

"The lady she sat and she played on the lute,

6

And she sung, Will you come to the bower?'
The sergeant-at-arms had stood hitherto mute,
And now he advanced, like an impudent brute,
And said, 'Will you come to the Tower?'"

I am glad to be able to point out the London residence of the great poet Pope. He lived at No. 9 Berkeley Street, leading from Piccadilly into Berkeley Square, close to his friend, Lord Burlington; and it was here, possibly, on the eve of his departure to his quiet retreat at Twickenham, that he composed his "Farewell to London," in 1715.

"Luxurious lobster-nights, farewell,

For sober studious days,

And Burlington's delicious meal,
For salads, tarts, and peas."

I am assured that in the lease of the house, the name of "Mr. Alexander Pope" occurs as a former occupant. From the poet it passed into the hands of General Bulkeley, who died about the year 1815, at an extreme old age. The present occupant informs me that he well remembers that whenever the general visited his family it was invariably his habit to observe, with an air of respectful interest, "This is the house Mr. Alexander Pope lived in!"

It was to his house in Berkeley Street that Mr. Chaworth was carried after he received his deathwound in his famous duel with Lord Byron in Pall Mall.

In the days of Charles the Second, when Piccadilly was almost open country, the space between Clarges Street and the Albany was occupied by three large villas, each surrounded by spacious pleasure-grounds, built respectively by Lord Berkeley of Stratton, the great Lord Clarendon, and the well-known and wealthy poet, Sir John Denham. Opposite, on the site of Arlington Street, stood Goring House, the residence of the notorious statesman, Henry Bennet, Earl of Arlington.

We will first speak of Berkeley House, which stood nearly on the site of the present Devonshire House. It was built by Lord Berkeley of Stratton, about the year 1670, on a property called Hay Hill Farm, from whence Hay Street, Hill

Street, Farm Street, and Hay Hill have derived their names, as have Berkeley Street, Berkeley Square, and Stratton Street, from his lordship's titles. Pepys writes: "25th September, 1672, I dined at Lord John Berkeley's. It was in his new house, or rather palace, for I am assured it stood him in nearly £30,000. It is very well built, and has many noble rooms, but they are not very convenient, consisting but of one corps de logis; they are all rooms of state, without closets. The staircase is of cedar, the furniture is princely, the kitchen and stables are ill-placed, and the corridor worse, having no respect to the wings they join to. For the rest, the fore-court is noble, so are the stables, and, above all, the gardens, which are incomparable, by reason of the inequality of the ground, and a pretty piscina. The holly hedges on the terrace I advised the planting of."

Evelyn also speaks with enthusiasm of the "noble gardens" and "stately porticos" of Berkeley House. The former must have been of great size, when we remember that they extended over the ground now occupied by Lansdowne House and Berkeley Square. In 1684, a part of them were let out for the purpose of being built upon. Evelyn mentions his deep regret at witnessing the work of partitioning, and the sacrilege offered to the "sweet place;" while at the same time he inveighs against the "mad intem

perance of the age," in increasing the city, which he says is far out of proportion to the nation, and which in his time had been enlarged nearly tenfold. What would Evelyn say to London as it now stands!

In 1695, when on bad terms with her brotherin-law, King William, Queen Anne, then Princess of Denmark, took up her abode at Berkeley House. A few years afterward, the original mansion was burnt down, and, early in the last century, the present unsightly structure was erected after a design by Kent - by William, third Duke of Devonshire. Beyond the fact of its having been tenanted by more than one titled "transmitter of a foolish face," we know of no particular interest that attaches itself to the present structure. Let us except, however, the brief period when the beautiful Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, held her court within its walls, and when Fox, Burke, Wyndham, Fitzpatrick, and Sheridan did homage at her feet. It would be difficult, at the present day, to convey even the slightest notion of the sensation which the lovely and charming duchess— herself a poetess and a wit― created in the last age, or of the influence which she exercised over the fashion and politics of her time. Distinguished by her high rank, her surpassing loveliness, and the peculiar fascination of her manners, surrounding herself with the gay, the beautiful, the witty, and the wise, Devonshire House, under the auspices