modelling was fairly complete, but there were the castings, the erection, etc.; the artist had no more money to go on with, and ruin stared him in the face. In this condition he fell into the hands of Mr. Ayrton, a rough official, without delicacy, and who only looked to his strict duty. This unfeeling but still conscientious man--at least, to the nation--peremptorily called on the artist to deliver what he had been paid for to perform, and, on his failure, actually seized on his studio and all his models, by way of execution. The unfortunate sculptor wrote a piteous letter, appealing to Mr. Gladstone for mercy, which had no result. There was much hubbub. Mr. Ayrton was abused by some and praised by others, for doing his duty by the nation. At last, after much clamour, and appeals _ad misericordiam_, it was resolved that he should have another chance; further time was given, some more money was granted, and the ill-fated artist set to work with what spirit he could muster. Before he could do much he died, and the “job” being now left on their hands the Government had to make what they could of the business. An artist was found who undertook to complete the whole for £5,000 or £6,000 more, and it was finally set up at a total cost of £27,000. There can be no question that the poor artist was in the wrong and behaved badly; but at the same time it must be said this improvidence was owing to a good spirit. He wished to furnish the best of work and the best of material. In this view, the visitor should note the exquisite and perfectly pure character of the marble columns, and that there are no exceptions to this excellence is owing to the generous recklessness of the sculptor, who rejected many pieces before he accepted one that was suitable. The beautiful delicacy of the tracery on these columns is worth notice, and could only be brought out by a material of a corresponding delicacy. The general result, however, is unsatisfactory. The artist intended to have a small equestrian figure on the top, which the rough Ayrton declared would exhibit the Duke as “riding over his own recumbent body,” so an emblematic group was proposed instead. This pedestal, however, is still left vacant. The monument is, moreover, unsuited to the place, and so large for the area that no proper view of it can be obtained. The large window behind still further hinders the effect. At the time it was judiciously suggested that it should be shifted and placed across the chapel, with the wall for a background. The sarcophagus on which the Duke reposes is oddly balanced on a small base, and his head and feet project between the columns. Steevens has done other work, but there is a certain violence and extravagance in his conceptions which must modify the high opinion once entertained of him.