d wood,
the most wonderful screen you ever saw, presented as a sign of
gratitude to their old church by the Hanseatic merchants. The east end
is decorated by a wooden table, richly carved, and the reredos is
designed by the great Christopher himself, no doubt for partial
expiation of his sin in making the church externally so hideous. It
consists of a marble panel, on which are engraved the Ten
Commandments. On the left hand stands Aaron in full pontificals, as
set forth in the Book of Leviticus or that of Numbers. On the right
hand, in more humble guise, stands Moses, facing the people, in his
hand a rod of gold. With this he points to the Commandments, which
contain among them the whole Rule of Life. The pews are not arranged
to face the east, but are gathered round the pulpit in the north, the
most desirable being those nearest the pulpit. In the outside pews,
close to the east end, sat the watermen's 'prentices. These young
villains, who were afterwards doubtless for the most part hanged,
spent their time during the service in carving their initials, with
rude pictures of ships, houses, and boats, with dates on the sloping
desks before them. There they still remain--because the pews are
unchanged--with the dates 1720, 1730, 1740, and so on. From father to
son they kept up this sacrilegious practice, hidden in the depths of
the high pews. There is, behind the church, a vestry with wainscoting
and more carved wood, and with portraits of bygone rectors, plans of
the parish, and notes on the old parish charities, which exist no
longer. Through the vestry window one looks out upon a little garden.
It is the churchyard. One sees how the old cloister ran. Formerly it
was full of tombs, and he who paced the cloister could meditate on
death. Now it is an open and cheerful place, all the old tombs cleared
away--which is loss, not gain--and in the month of May it is bright
with flowers. At first sight it seems as if it was so completely
hidden away that it could gladden no man's eyes. That is not so. In
the City Brewery there are certain windows which overlook this garden.
These are the windows of the rooms where dwells a chief
officer--Master Brewer, Master Taster, Master Chemist, I know not--of
the City Brewery, last of the many breweries which once stood along
the river bank. He, almost the only resident of the parish, can look
out, solitary and quiet, of the cool of an evening in early summer,
and rejoice in the beauty of