This relic of the past is, we understand, to be cleared of its dingy covering--the accumulated dust and dirt of centuries--and thrown open to the public: may it be done quickly! I find the following mention of Guildhall and the Giants that stood therein at the time Ned Ward wrote his _London Spy_. He says, "I entered [Guildhall] with as great astonishment to see the Giants, as the Morocco ambassador did London when he saw the snow fall. I asked my friend the meaning and design of setting [up] those two lubberly preposterous figures; for I supposed they had some peculiar end in it. 'Truly,' says my friend, 'I am wholly ignorant of what they intended by them, unless they were set up to shew the City what huge loobies their forefathers were, or else to frighten stubborn apprentices into obedience; for the dread of appearing before two such monstrous loggerheads will sooner reform their manners, or would force them into a compliance with their master's will, than carrying them before my Lord Mayor or the Chamberlain of London; for some of them are as much frightened at the name of Gog and Magog as little children are at the terrible sound of Raw-head and Bloody-bones. "'Pray,' said I, 'what are yonder cluster of people doing, that seem as busy as so many fools at the Royal-oak Lottery?' "'Truly,' said my friend, 'you are something mistaken in your comparison: if you had said knaves, you had hit it; for that is the Sheriff's Court; and I must give them that character, that I never knew one fool amongst them, though they have to do with a great many. All those tongue-plodders who are chattering within the bar, are picking the pockets of those that stand without. You may know the sufferers by their pale faces: the passions of Hope, Fear, and Revenge have put them into such disorder, that they are as easy to be distinguished in a crowd by their looks, as an owl from a hawk, or a country esquire from a town-sharper.' "'He's a very comely gentlemen,' said I, 'that sits upon the bench, and puts on so pleasing a countenance, as if, like a god, he viewed with pleasure the fuss and discords of contending mortals, that fret and fume beneath him.' "My friend replied, 'He might well look merrily who sits the playing of so many great games, and is sure always to be on the winning side. For you must know,' says he, 'these courts are like public gaming-tables; the steward's the box-keeper, and the clients the fools that are bubbled out of their money.'