ame was duly cut, with a space left for Robinson's name when the time
of his departure came.

These stones have now exchanged the murky air of London for that of
one of the pleasantest sites in Surrey. Charter-House School has,
after passing two hundred and sixty years in the metropolis, changed
its location, and must be looked for now on a delightful spot near
Godalming in Surrey. The governors very wisely determined about five
years ago that boys were much better in country than in town, and,
having ample funds, took measures accordingly. Last October the new
buildings were ready for the boys' reception, and they met there for
the first time. The stones, however, were, with a sentiment most will
appreciate, removed, in order to connect the past with the present,
for the Charter-House must ever have many tender ties binding it to
the site of the old monastery with its rich historic memories; and
however famous may be the men who go forth from the new ground which
Sutton's famous foundation occupies, it must derive a great part of
its fame for a long time to come from the place which sent out into
the world Addison, Steele, Thirlwall, Grote, Leech and Thackeray, not
to mention a host of names of those who in arms and arts have done
credit to the place of their education.[11]

The home for aged and infirm or disabled men will remain where it has
always been. This establishment has indeed been a welcome refuge to
thousands who have known better days. Men of all ranks and conditions,
who have experienced in the afternoon of life contrary winds too
powerful for them to encounter, have here found a haven for the
remnant of their days. Some have held most important positions, and
a lord mayor of London, who had received emperors at his table, was
a few years ago one of Sutton's "poor brethren." The pensioners were
always called _cods_ by the boys, probably short for codgers. Each had
a room plainly furnished, about one hundred and fifty dollars a year,
rations, and a dinner every day in the great hall. The boys, who did
not often know their names, gave them nicknames by which they became
generally known. Thus three were called "Battle," "Murder" and
"Sudden Death;" another "Larky," in consequence of a certain levity
of demeanor at divine service. These old gentlemen were expected to
attend chapel daily. Every evening at nine o'clock the chapel bell
tolled the exact number of them, just as Great Tom at Christ Church,
Oxford,