Not long before his death, I spent a night at Westminster, when we talked about Oliver Cromwell. With much pathos he read aloud Carlyle’s description of the Lord Protector’s last hours; and, some time before this, he told me that he had been engaged in endeavouring to ascertain what became of the hero’s remains after indignities done to them at the Restoration. Soon after the Dean’s death, I received from Mrs. Drummond, his executrix, a note accompanied by the picture it referred to. “In a memorandum left by our dear Dean, he desired a photograph of him, which used to stand in the drawing-room, should be sent to you, in remembrance of a sincere friendship.” With regard to the composition of historical works he was in the habit of employing such information as he could gather from friends. Oxford men have told me, that he used to lay under contribution whatever he could learn from other people’s researches. For these, however, he was always ready to make ample returns. Dr. Stanley told me that he was in the habit of looking at some historical characters through the medium of living people, who appeared to him, in one way or other, to resemble them. Excellencies and frailties on the part of deceased individuals, thus came out more vividly before him. It struck me as a considerable help to a realisation of what departed persons _might_ be; but it requires to be carefully employed, lest from resemblances which are real, we infer other things which are imaginary. His taste was comprehensive. He loved everything which related to English history, especially where it touched his own dear Abbey. Conformity and Nonconformity he sometimes sought to harmonise in surprising ways. I may add here that there was in the Abbey a monument to Dr. Watts in a dilapidated condition, when I suggested a plan for its restoration. The plan was adopted, and in consequence the monument was for a time removed. During its absence I received a note containing a playful allusion to the circumstance:— “If some strong Nonconformist should wander through the Abbey this week, he may go away with the impression that in a fit of sudden intolerance the Dean had torn down the monument of Isaac Watts. I assure you that the gaping and vacant chasm in the wall might well suggest such an interpretation. I hope, however, in a few days the restored angel and the mended harp of your sweet psalmist will dispel any hopes that may be awakened in High Churchmen or suspicions in Nonconformists.”