Talking about the horse, are you going to set up any more horses? Eh? Think a bit. Come! You haven’t got horses enough yet, surely? Couldn’t you put somebody else on horseback, and stick him up, at the cost of a few thousands? You have already statues to most of the “benefactors of mankind,” (SEE ADVERTISEMENT) in your principal cities. You walk through groves of great inventors, instructors, discoverers, assuagers of pain, preventers of disease, suggesters of purifying thoughts, doers of noble deeds. Finish the list. Come! Whom will you hoist into the saddle? Let’s have a cardinal virtue! Shall it be Faith? Hope? Charity? Aye, Charity’s the virtue to ride on horseback! Let’s have Charity! How shall we represent it? Eh? What do you think? Royal? Certainly. Duke? Of course. Charity always was typified in that way, from the time of a certain widow, downwards. And there’s nothing less left to put up; all the commoners who were “benefactors of mankind” having had their statues in the public places, long ago. How shall we dress it? Rags? Low. Drapery? Common-place. Field-Marshal’s uniform? The very thing! Charity in a Field-Marshal’s uniform (none the worse for wear) with thirty thousand pounds a year, public money, in its pocket, and fifteen thousand more, public money, up behind, will be a piece of plain uncompromising truth in the highways, and an honor to the country and the time. Ha, ha, ha! You can’t leave the memory of an unassuming, honest, good-natured, amiable old Duke alone, without bespattering it with your flunkeyism, can’t you? That’s right—and like you! Here are three brass buttons in my crop. I’ll subscribe ’em all. One, to the statue of Charity; one, to a statue of Hope; one, to a statue of Faith. For Faith, we’ll have the Nepaulese Ambassador on horseback—being a prince. And for Hope, we’ll put the Hippopotamus on horseback, and so make a group. Let’s have a meeting about it! A SHILLING’S WORTH OF SCIENCE.