into cavalry barracks.  An order, quoted by Sir Henry Ellis, of which there is a copy in the British Museum, came out in 1651 prohibiting the soldiers from playing at ninepins from nine p.m. till six a.m., as the noise disturbs the residents in the neighbourhood, and they are also forbidden to disturb the peaceable passers by.  At the Church of St. Gregory by St. Paul, towards the latter part of Cromwell’s life, it is said that the liturgy of the Church was regularly used, through the influence of his daughter, Elizabeth Claypole, and not only so, but that he used sometimes to attend it under the same auspices.

Once more before the catastrophe let us pause and see what monuments had been erected in the Cathedral since the Stuarts mounted the throne.  Dean VALENTINE CAREY was also Bishop of Exeter, d. 1626, a High Churchman, He “imprudently commended the soul of a dead person to the mercies of God, which he was forced to retract.”  There was a brass to him with mitre and his arms, but no figure.

Then we come to a monument which has a very great and unique interest, that of Dr. John Donne, who was Dean from 1621 to 1631.  It is hardly needful to say that his life is the first in the beautiful set of biographies by his friend, Izaak Walton.  But it seems only right to quote Walton’s account of this monument.  The Dean knew that he was dying, and his friends expressed their desire to know his wishes.  He sent for a carver to make for him in wood the figure of an urn, giving him directions for the compass and height of it, and to bring with it a board, of the just height of his body.  “These being got, then without delay a choice painter was got to be in readiness to draw his picture, which was taken as followeth:—­Several charcoal fires being first made in his large study, he brought with him into that place his winding-sheet in his hand, and, having put off all his clothes, had this sheet put on him, and so tied with knots at his head and feet, and his hands so placed as dead bodies are usually fitted to be shrouded and put into their coffin or grave.  Upon this urn he thus stood, with his eyes shut, and with so much of the sheet turned aside as might show his lean, pale, and death-like face, which was purposely turned towards the East, from whence he expected the second coming of his and our Saviour Jesus.”  In this posture he was drawn at his just height; and when the picture was fully finished, he caused it to be set by his bedside, where it continued, and became his hourly object till his death, and was then given to his dearest friend and executor, Dr. Henry King, then chief Residentiary of St. Paul’s, who caused him to be thus carved in one entire piece of white marble, as it now stands in that church; and, by Dr. Donne’s own appointment, these words were affixed to it as an epitaph:—­