Within the Wall we saw the ruins of the Crutched Friars, of St. Helen’s, of the Holy Priory, of the Austin Friars, of the Papey, of Elsing Spital, of St. James’s in the Wall, of the Grey Friars and of the Black Friars; without the Wall there were the ruins of Eastminster, of the Clares, of St. Mary Spital, of Holywell, of the Church House, of the Knights Hospitallers, of Clerkenwell Nunnery, of St. Bartholomew’s Priory, and of the White Friars. “The poets, doubtless,” I said, “and with them the divines, meditate among these ruins.” “Alas! No. The poets write songs of love and sing them; or they go forth to the wars and sing of them. The times are brisk. It is as if the world was waking up from sleep: there are new things everywhere; we live in the present; our ships go forth to distant lands; there is a new world, a Terra Incognita, to be explored and conquered; it is no time for meditation. When the cloister was broken down meditation fled beyond the seas. We live to fight and to get rich, and to watch against the wiles of Pope and Spaniard.” [Illustration: EAST VIEW OF CLOISTERS OF COLLEGIATE CHURCH OF ST. KATHERINE Taken down in July 1755.] “Do these ruins then inspire no regret?” “None. The people are forgetting fast. Only old men sometimes speak of what they remember; when the last stones have been taken away, the very names will tell them nothing. Even the names are changing. Soon all will be lost and forgotten. Strange! Four hundred years those monks lived among us, and after fifty years they are already clean forgotten as much as if they had never lived.” At Bishopsgate, Stow pointed northward. “Houses,” he said, “are stretching along the northern road, but slowly. Among the ruins of Holywell stands a Play house, and outside it is another. What will be the end of this passion for the theatre, I know not. Formerly, an interlude in an Inn yard, a masque in a Company’s Hall, and so enough. Now have ye every day a play set forth upon a stage, with songs and music, and boys dressed up as women.” He shook his head and led on, still following the Wall. Within the City on this north side there were many large and fair gardens, some belonging to Companies which here have their Halls, and some to merchants’ houses, and some that once belonged to the Monastic Houses. They were set with fruit-trees and with beds of flowers and sweet herbs. Among the gardens stood collections of craftsmen’s cottages and workshops, and the churches with their small green churchyards were almost hidden by the trees. This part of London truly had a rural look by reason of these gardens.