ield mentioned by De Grammont resided; but the accomplished
Chesterfield chose a site near Audley Street, which had been built on
what was called Mr. Audley's land, lying between Great Brook Field and
the 'Shoulder of Mutton Field.' And near this locality with the elegant
name, Chesterfield chose his spot, for which he had to wrangle and fight
with the Dean and Chapter of Westminster, who asked an exorbitant sum
for the ground. Isaac Ware, the editor of 'Palladio,' was the architect
to whom the erection of this handsome residence was intrusted. Happily
it is still untouched by any _renovating_ hand. Chesterfield's favourite
apartments, looking on the most spacious private garden in London, are
just as they were in his time; one especially, which he termed the
'finest room in London,' was furnished and decorated by him. 'The
walls,' says a writer in the 'Quarterly Review,' 'are covered half way
up with rich and classical stores of literature; above the cases are in
close series the portraits of eminent authors, French and English, with
most of whom he had conversed; over these, and immediately under the
massive cornice, extend all round in foot-long capitals the Horatian
lines:--

'Nunc . veterum . libris . Nunc . somno . et . inertibus . Horis.
Lucen . solicter . jucunda . oblivia . vitea.

'On the mantel-pieces and cabinets stand busts of old orators,
interspersed with voluptuous vases and bronzes, antique or Italian, and
airy statuettes in marble or alabaster of nude or semi-nude opera
nymphs.'

What Chesterfield called the 'cannonical pillars' of the house were
columns brought from Cannons, near Edgeware, the seat of the Duke of
Chandos. The antechamber of Chesterfield House has been erroneously
stated as the room in which Johnson waited the great lord's pleasure.
That state of endurance was probably passed by 'Old Samuel' in
Bloomsbury.

In this stately abode--one of the few, the very few, that seem to hold
_noblesse_ apart in our levelling metropolis--Chesterfield held his
assemblies of all that London, or indeed England, Paris, the Hague, or
Vienna, could furnish of what was polite and charming. Those were days
when the stream of society did not, as now, flow freely, mingling with
the grace of aristocracy the acquirements of hard-working professors;
there was then a strong line of demarcation; it had not been broken down
in the same way as now, when people of rank and wealth live in rows,
instead of