In the Lady Chapel of Canterbury Cathedral there is a monument of Dean Boys, who died in 1625.  This represents the Dean seated in his library, at a table with turned legs, over which there is a tapestry cover.  Books line the walls of the section of the room shown in the stone carving; it differs little from the sanctum of a literary man of the present day.  There are many other monuments which represent furniture of this period, and amongst the more curious is that of a child of King James I., in Westminster Abbey, close to the monument of Mary Queen of Scots.  The child is sculptured about life size, in a carved cradle of the time.

In Holland House, Kensington,[9] which is a good example of a Jacobean mansion, there is some oak enrichment of the seventeenth century, and also a garden bench, with its back formed of three shells and the legs shaped and ornamented with scroll work.  Horace Walpole mentions this seat, and ascribes the design to Francesco Cleyn, who worked for Charles I. and some of the Court.

There is another Jacobean house of considerable interest, the property of Mr. T.G.  Jackson, A.R.A.  An account of it has been written by him, and was read to some members of the Surrey Archaeological Society, who visited Eagle House, Wimbledon, in 1890.  It appears to have been the country seat of a London merchant, who lived early in the seventeenth century.  Mr. Jackson bears witness to the excellence of the workmanship, and expresses his opinion that the carved and decorated enrichments were executed by native and not foreign craftsmen.  He gives an illustration in his pamphlet of the sunk “Strap Work,” which, though Jacobean in its date, is also found in the carved ornament of Elizabeth’s time.

Another relic of this time is the panel of carved oak in the lych gate of St. Giles’, Bloomsbury, dated 1638.  This is a realistic representation of “The Resurrection,” and when the writer examined it a few weeks ago, it seemed in danger of perishing for lack of a little care and attention.

It is very probable that had the reign of Charles I. been less troublous, this would have been a time of much progress in the domestic arts in England.  The Queen was of the Medici family, Italian literature was in vogue, and Italian artists therefore would probably have been encouraged to come over and instruct our workmen.  The King himself was an excellent mechanic, and boasted that he could earn his living at almost any trade save the making of hangings.  His father had established the tapestry works at Mortlake; he himself had bought the Raffaele Cartoons to encourage the work—­and much was to be hoped from a monarch who had the judgment to induce a Vandyke to settle in England.  The Civil War, whatever it has achieved for our liberty as subjects, certainly hindered by many years our progress as an artistic people.