Dr. John Donne and Sir Thomas More were both connected with Lincoln’s Inn. Dr. Donne laid the foundation-stone and preached the consecration sermon of the chapel that Inigo Jones designed in 1623, since so disastrously restored. It is built on arches, so you can walk about under the Gothic roof, as Pepys said he did “by agreement” on the 27th of June, 1663, but you will not see the six seventeenth-century windows, for they were shattered by an explosion in October, 1915. Sir Thomas More has a more intimate connection with the Inn, for his father and grandfather held the office of butler and steward, and for their long and faithful services were rewarded by admission into the Society of Lincoln’s Inn and by the much-prized office of Reader. The wonderful law library is now housed in the new red-brick hall, decorated with Watts’ fresco of “The Lawgivers of the World,” but the old hall built about 400 years ago is still in use, though it, too, has suffered from the hands of the restorer. Only the benchers and members of Lincoln’s Inn may use the elm-shaded gardens. They not only fulfil Pepys’ prophecy that they would be very pretty, but they had a useful war record, as a memorial tablet shows. I am told that the Curfew is still rung at Lincoln’s Inn. At a quarter to nine each evening the chief porter climbs to the tower of the chapel and when the hour has struck he sounds the curfew fifty times. The bell used was brought from Cadiz by the Earl of Essex in 1596. RECORD OFFICE “Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty.” WORDSWORTH. Coming out into Chancery Lane once more and turning down towards Fleet Street, you will see on your left a huge grey building in Tudor style, where once stood the House of the Converts. It was called by that name when Henry III. founded a House in 1232 to receive converted Jews. I hardly like to tell you that the present name is the Record Office. It is too pompous and official-sounding, and perhaps that is why people pass the House of the Converts never suspecting the presence of the entrancing, memory-evoking things within. You enter the enchanted room by descending a short flight of stone steps, after going through a forbidding portal and along a green sward into a modern grey building in one of the very busiest of the London streets. You will know why I call it an enchanted room as soon as you see the beautiful chapel-like precincts named the House of the Converts nearly 700 years ago, before it was used from Edward III.’s time as the Chapel of the Rolls.