"I am ill at dates, but I think it is now better than five-and-twenty years ago that, walking in the gardens at Gray's Inn--they were then finer than they are now--the accursed Verulam Buildings had not encroached upon all the east side of them, cutting out delicate green crankles, and shouldering away one of two of the stately alcoves of the terrace. The survivor stands, gaping and relationless, as if it remembered its brother. They are still the best gardens of any of the Inns of Court--my beloved Temple not forgotten--have the gravest character, their aspect being altogether revered and law-breathing. Bacon has left the impress of his foot upon their gravel walks." If the gardens give the summer charm to these old precincts, the grand old Hall is the glory, and may well be called the heart of Gray's Inn. Seventy feet in length, thirty-five in width, and forty-seven in height, it is in truth a stately chamber, yet so harmonious are its proportions, so graceful are its details, that the spectator knows not which to admire most, the simple grandeur of its size, the delicate beauty of the old stained glass windows, or the rich deep colouring that time has given to the oaken panelling as well as to the heavy oaken furniture. At the east end is a raised daïs, the place of honour, on which stands the table reserved for the Benchers and their guests. The students dine in the body of the Hall, and the great black oak tables and settles that they use were placed here in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. As they were then, so they are now, and so they may probably remain for as many more hundred years. In those good or bad old times, wood and labour were of comparatively little value, so furniture was then massive, and often decorated with a lavish richness of detail that a modern upholsterer would dread as much as he would admire, so great would be the modern cost both of the material and the work expended on it. How many remnants of the tables and chairs of this veneering age will there be in another century? Near the daïs is a great oriel window, that beautiful characteristic of the Tudor period; the old coloured glass, rich with the armorial bearings of the Society, and emblazoned also with names well known and distinguished in our English history. An elaborately carved oaken screen at the opposite end of the Hall conceals the entrance vestibule, and supports a Minstrel Gallery, another delightful adjunct to the large Halls of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. The screen itself is of quaint but handsome design, and is especially interesting, as its decorations denote the period when it was erected. Short, thick Ionic columns, carved in arabesque with scroll ornaments, are surmounted by a range of semicircular arches. Above these is a balustrade of open carving enclosing the Minstrels' Gallery.