quillity delight to many Londoners when, ig a never-taiing source of fu the course of. their lawful vocations, they chance to turn out of the nerve-racking clamour, of Fleet-street or Holborn, suddenly to find themselves in one or other of those havens of In the following article on "The Sights of London," the "Morning Post" Speciat Correspondent reminds us-of the famous person ages whose ghoste haunt these dreaming "Do you know it?" wrote Charles Lamb, of Hare-court, in the Inner Temple. "I was born near here I hope to sot up my rest, and not to quit till Mr. Powell, the undertaker, gives me notice that T may have' possession of my last lodging." This wish was not granted to him, for it was at Edmonton that he died. But I can well under stand his wish, Yor I spent. a morning wandering through this lovely haven, its narrow passages, 30 cool even in the heat, of late summer, its courts, and under its great trees, These must have been infinitely grateful to this gentle genius, labouring always under the shadow of madness. There were quiet and beauty, old houses, historical asso-lations; there were good company and all the things he loved.
T walked in Crown Office-row, where Thackeray lived, though the house has now disappeared, and siong Brickeourt, where Goldsmith's convivial evenings with Johnson, Dr. 'Arne, and Bickerstafl caused bitter complaints from the gentleman in the fiat below, the serious Black+ stone, hard at' work on his famous "Commentaries." It is probably the most famous equivalent of the modern complaint of one tenant against the noise which another makes with his cocktail parties and his gran.ophone.
Shade and Sunshine But in spite of his noise, it is said that poor Noll was' much lamented when the died in these chambers, and was carried to his grave in Churchyard-court through xvoups of weeping women. "Bloody Judge Jeffries" caroused in Hare= court, while Johnson used to roll from his chambers ju Inner Temple-lane to hold his court at the Cheese, and Boswell moved in to the bottom of the lane "in order to be nearer the object of his devotion."
But grent names spring up on all sides here; and if one is lost in the mist of historial association, or sit in Fountaincourt for sheer joy watching the one tifin spiro of water leap into the sunny air, drenching the tree which overhangs it, watching the birds ruffling it bravely, and listening to feet echoing' over the quiet flagstones and up the uncarpeted stairs of the chambers near by.
One comes rudely back to this century in passing into the roar of Fleet-street; but go past Chancery-Lune on your left until you come to little Clifford's Inn-passage and you set back the clock again. This little Inn has now fallen on evil days, and there is a notice over its gatehouse tMfat it is for sale; but there are still old houses there, with Lrightly-floweri low boxes.
Then back again, and up Chan cory-lane, with its' law stationers and alleyways with dim, romantic names, to Lincoln's Inn, with its famous gateway. It was built when Cardinal Wolsey was the power behind the English Throne, and is one of the few pure Gothic relica of London; through Old-square with the ancient hall and chapel, and out into Lincoln's Inn Fields, green and lovely, crowded at midday with the denizens of the Strand taking their ease,
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.