At the entrance of the east gate is a mural stone monument, erected to the memory of James Cullen, by his brother Robert Cullen. This monument is pointed out to strangers on account of the peculiarity of its form, with the assertion that the person who built the church is buried there, and that the coffin is obliged to stand in a perpendicular position. This, however, is not correct; the monument certainly stands there, but the place where the body is entombed is 23 feet further to the west; and instead of being raised to the memory of the architect of the church, that individual erected it to perpetuate the memory of his brother. This fact is engraven upon the monument; but so unexploring are the Antiguans in general, that I think but few of the inhabitants are aware of the real truth, but still think the coffin stands upright. This strange practice of putting up the grave-stone at a distance from the grave is not the only instance of the kind to be met in the churchyard of St. John’s. At one of the west gates lies a stone slab, to the memory of the late organist; and upon reading the inscription, I supposed that the body reposed beneath. But not so: that lies far away, with “not a stone to mark the place.” Upon asking a pew-opener the reason for placing the slab in that situation, his reply was, “It does so nicely, you know, for the people to walk on, and looks well.” The churchyard is entered by five iron gates, of handsome patterns. At the north, a flight of stone steps leads up to the church, while from the south gate, the building is approached by an easy and gradual ascent, paved with brick. The pillars of the south gate are surmounted by stone figures, representing St. John the Baptist, and St. John the Evangelist. These figures were intended to receive the vows of the good catholics at Dominica; but as it happened to be war time, when they took their departure from “_la belle France_,” on their passage they fell in with an English man-of-war, who most unceremoniously took them into keeping, and brought them to Antigua; where, by universal consent, they were placed as sentinels in their present position, instead of being decked out in gold and silver leaf, and mock jewels. The negroes, however, refuse to recognise them by their own titles, but have unanimously dubbed them “Adam and Eve”—the Baptist, I suppose, playing the part of the lady, as his garments are longer and more voluminous than those of his companion. ------ [71] See Chapter XX. [72] A descendant of Sir Thomas Warner, who planted the first English colony in Antigua. [73] This strangely-worded inscription is copied verbatim. [74] Slightly altered from Young’s “Night Thoughts.” [75] Young’s “Night Thoughts,” Night 7th. [76] To the organ is attached a choir, composed of the boys and girls from the parochial school. [77] From this John Delap Halliday descends the present Admiral Tollemache—viz.—