Old and New London, A Narrative of its History, its People and its Places. Illustrated with Numerous Engravings from the Most Authentic Sources. vol I
Thornbury, Walter
1872-78
The Temple (continued)
The Temple (continued)
Lives there a man with soul so dead as to write about the Temple without mentioning the [extra_illustrations.1.171.6] ?-that pet and plaything of the Temple, that, like a little fairy, sings to beguile the cares of men oppressed with legal duties. It used to look like a wagoner's silver whip-now a modern writer cruelly calls it In Queen Anne's time Hatton describes it as forcing its stream --it is now only feet high, no higher than a giant lord chancellor. Then it was fenced with palisades-now it is caged in iron; then it stood in a square-now it is in a round. But it still sparkles and glitters, and sprinkles and playfully splashes the jaunty sparrows that come to wash off the London dust in its variegated spray. It is quite careless now, however, of notice, for has it not been immortalised by the pen of Dickens, who has made it the centre of of his most charming love scenes? It was in [extra_illustrations.1.171.8] , our readers will like to.remember, that Ruth Pinch --gentle, loving Ruth-met her lover, by the merest accident of course. | |
says Mr. Dickens,
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[extra_illustrations.1.172.4] , has left a graceful poem on this much-petted fountain, which begins,--
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Fig-tree Court derived its name from obvious sources. Next to the plane, that has the strange power of sloughing off its sooty bark, the fig seems the tree that best endures London's corrupted atmosphere. Thomas Fairchild, a gardener, who wrote in (quoted by Mr. Peter Cunningham), alludes to figs ripening well in the Rolls Gardens, , and to the tree thriving in close places about . Who can say that some Templar pilgrim did not bring from the banks of the leafy inhabitant of inky and dusty Figtree Court? Lord Thurlow was living here in , the year he was called to the bar, and when, it was said, he had not money enough even to hire a horse to attend the circuit. | |
[extra_illustrations.1.172.5] stands on the terrace facing the river. The Parliament Chambers and Hall, in the Tudor style, were the work of Sidney Smirke, R.A., in . The library, designed by Mr. Abrahams, is feet long, feet wide, and feet high; it has a hammer-beam roof. of the stained glass windows is blazoned with the arms of the Templars. Below the library are chambers. The cost of the whole was about . The north window is thought to too much resemble the great window at . | |
Paper Buildings, a name more suitable for the offices of some City companies, were built in the reign of James I., by a Mr. Edward Hayward and others; and the learned Dugdale describes them as feet long, feet broad, and storeys high. This Hayward was Selden's chamber-fellow, and to him Selden dedicated his Selden, according to Aubrey, had chambers in these pleasant riverside buildings, looking towards the gardens, and in the uppermost storey he had a little gallery, to pace in and meditate. The Great Fire swept away Selden's chambers, and their successors were de. stroyed by the fire which broke out in Mr. Maule's chambers. Coming home at. night from a dinnerparty, that gentleman, it is said, put the lighted candle under his bed by mistake. The stately new buildings were designed by Mr. Sidney Smirke, A.R.A., in . The red brick and-stone harmonise pleasantly, and the overhanging oriels and angle turrets (Continental Tudor) are by no means ineffective. | |
[extra_illustrations.1.172.6] [extra_illustrations.1.172.2] is a gatehouse of red brick pointed with stone, and is the work of Wren. It was erected in , after the Great Fire, and is in the style of Inigo Jones-- says Ralph. It probably occupies the site of the gatehouse erected by order of Wolsey, at the expense of his prisoner, | |
173 | Sir Amyas Paulet. The frightened man covered the front with the cardinal's hat and arms, hoping to appease Wolsey's anger by gratifying his pride. The Inner Temple gateway was built in the year of James I. |
was built in the year of Charles I. Up pair of stairs that successful courtier, Guildford North, whom Jeffreys so tormented by the rumour that he had been seen riding on a rhinoceros, then exhibiting in London, commenced the practice that soon won him such high honours. | |
In [extra_illustrations.1.173.1] , on leaving a solicitor's office, had chambers in the Middle Temple, and in that solitude the horror of his future malady began to darken over him. He gave up the classics, which had been his previous delight, and read George Herbert's poems all day long. In , after his father's death, he purchased another set of irooms for , in an airy situation in the Inner Temple. He belonged, at this time, to the of which Bonnell Thornton, Colman junior, and Lloyd were members. Thurlow also was his friend. In his despondency deepened into insanity. An approaching appointment to the.clerkship of the Journals of the overwhelmed him with nervous fears. reading to appear in public, he resolved to destroy himself. He purchased laudanum, then threw, it away. He packed up his portmanteau to go to France and enter a monastery. He went down to the Quay, to throw himself into the river. He tried to stab himself. At last the poor fellows actually hung himself, and was only saved by an accident. The following is his own relation :
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In , Tanfield Court, a quiet, dull nook on the east side of the Temple, to the south of that sombre Grecian temple where the Master resides, was the scene of a very horrible crime. Sarah Malcolm, a laundress, aged , employed by a young barrister named Kerrol in the same court, gaining access to the rooms of an old lady named Duncomb, whom she knew to have money, strangled her and an old servant, and cut the throat of a young girl, whose bed she had probably shared. Some of her blood-stained linen, and a silver tankard of Mrs. Duncomb's, stained with blood, were found by Mr. Kerrrol concealed in his chambers. of the money were discovered at Newgate hidden in the prisoner's hair. She confessed to a share in the robbery, but laid the murder to lads with whom she was acquainted. She was, however, found guilty, and hung opposite , . The crowd was so great that woman crossed from near Serjeants'-Inn to the other side of the way on the shoulders of the mob. Sarah | |
Malcolm went to execution neatly dressed in a crape gown, held up her head in the cart with an air, and seemed to be painted. A copy of her confession was sold for guineas. days before her execution she dressed in scarlet, and sat to Hogarth for a sketch, which Horace Walpole bought for . [extra_illustrations.1.174.1] represents a cruel, thin-lipped woman, not uncomely, sitting at a table. The Duke of Roxburghe purchased a perfect impression of this print, Mr. Timbs says, for Its original price was sixpence. After her execution the corpse was taken to an undertaker's on , and there exhibited for money. Among the rest, a gentleman in deep mourning--perhaps her late master, Mr. Kerrol-stooped and kissed it, and gave the attendant half-a-crown. She was, by special favour (for superiority even in wickedness has its admirers), buried in St. Sepulchre's Churchyard, from which criminals had been excluded for a century and a half. The corpse of the murderess was disinterred, and her skeleton, in a glass case, is still to be seen at the Botanic Garden, Cambridge. | |
Not many recorded crimes have taken place in | |
175 176 | the Temple, for youth, however poor, is hopeful. It takes time to make a man despair, and when he despairs, the devil is soon at his elbow. Nevertheless, greed and madness have upset some Templars' brains. In , a crazed, fanatical man of the Middle Temple, named Peter Burchet, mistaking John Hawkins (afterwards the naval. hero) for Sir Christopher Hatton, flew at him in , and dangerously wounded him with a dagger. The queen was so furious that at she wanted Burchet tried by camp law; but, being found to hold heretical opinions, he was committed to the Lollards' Tower (south front of ), and afterwards sent to the Tower. Growing still madder there, Burchet slew of his keepers with a billet from his fire, and was then condemned to death and hung in , close by where he had stabbed Hawkins, his right hand being stricken off and nailed to the gibbet. |
In John Ayloff, a barrister of the Inner Temple, was hung for high treason opposite the Temple Gate. | |
In Thomas Carr, an attorney, of , and Elizabeth Adams, his accomplice, were executed for robbing a Mr. Quarrington in (see page ); and in Henry Justice, of the Middle Temple, in spite of his well-omened name, was cruelly sentenced to death for stealing books from the library of Trinity College, Cambridge, but eventually he was only transported for life. | |
The celebrated [extra_illustrations.1.176.3] , when Mr. Murray, had chambers at No. , [extra_illustrations.1.176.1] of which Pope wrote- A compliment by Pope to this great man occasioned a famous parody:-- which was thus cleverly parodied by Colley Cibber:
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of [extra_illustrations.1.176.2] biographers tells us that Of the friendship of Pope and Murray, Warburton has said:
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says Mr. Jeaffreson,
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Charles Lamb, who was born in , in his exquisite way has sketched the benchers of the Temple whom he had seen pacing the terrace in his youth. Jekyll, with the roguish eye, and Thomas Coventry, of the elephantine step, the scarecrow of inferiors, the browbeater of equals, who made a solitude of children wherever he came, | |
177 | who took snuff by palmfuls, diving for it under the mighty flap of his old-fashioned red waistcoat. In the gentle Samuel Salt we discover a portrait of the employer of Lamb's father. Salt was a shy indolent, absent man, who never dressed for a dinner party but he forgot his sword. The day of Miss Blandy's execution he went to dine with a relative of the murderess, carefully schooled by his clerk to avoid the disagreeable subject. However, during the pause for dinner, Salt went to the window, looked out, pulled down his ruffles, and observed, Salt never laughed. He was a well-known toast with the ladies, having a fine figure and person. Coventry, on the other hand, was a man worth or , and lived in a gloomy house, like a strongbox, opposite the pump in , . Fond of money as he was, he gave away at once to a charity for the blind, and kept a hospitable house. Salt was indolent and careless of money, and but for Lovel, his clerk; would have been universally robbed. This Lovel was a clever little fellow, with a face like Garrick, who could mould heads in clay, turn cribbage-boards, take a hand at a quadrille or bowls, and brew punch with any man of his degree in Europe. With Coventry and Salt, Peter Pierson often perambulated the terrace, with hands folded behind him Contemporary with these was Daines Barrington, a burly, square man. Lamb also mentions Burton, who drew up the bills of fare for the parliament chamber, where the benchers dined; thin, fragile Wharry, who used to spitefully pinch his cat's ears when anything offended him; and Jackson, the musician, to whom the cook once applied for instructions how to write down in a bill of commons. Then there was Blustering Mingay, who had a grappling-hook in substitute for a hand he had lost, which Lamb, when a child, used to take for an emblem of power; and Baron Mascres, who retained the costume of the reign of George II. [extra_illustrations.1.177.1] |
In his Lamb says :
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Charles Lamb, in his on the old benchers, speaks of many changes he had witnessed in the Temple--i.e., the Gothicising--the entrance to the Inner Temple Hall and the Library front, to assimilate them to the hall, which they did not resemble; to the removal of the winged horse over the Temple Hall, and the frescoes of the Virtues which once Italianised it. He praises, too, the antique air of the with their moral inscriptions, seeming almost coeval with the time which they measured, and taking their revelations immediately from heaven, holding correspondence with the fountain of light. Of these dials there still remain- in [extra_illustrations.1.177.2] , with the motto, ; in , ; [extra_illustrations.1.177.3] In | |
178 | and are dials without mottoes; and in each Temple garden is a pillar dial- On an old brick house at the east end of Inner Temple Terrace, removed in , was a dial with the odd inscription, words with which an old bencher is said to have once dismissed a troublesome lad who had come from the dial-maker's for a motto, and who mistook his meaning. The we have engraved at page is in . The date and the initials are renewed every time it is fresh painted. |
There are many old Temple anecdotes relating to that learned disciple of Bacchus, [extra_illustrations.1.178.1] . Many a time (says Mr. Timbs), at early morn, did Porson stagger from his old haunt, the in, , where he scarcely ever failed to pass some hours, after spending the evening elsewhere. It is related of him, upon better authority than most of the stories told to his discredit, that night, or rather morning, Gurney (the Baron), who had chambers in under Porson's, was awakened by a tremendous thump in the chamber above. Porson had just come home dead drunk, and had fallen on the floor. Having extinguished the candle in the fall, he presently staggered downstairs to re-light it, and Gurney heard him dodging and poking with the candle at the staircase lamp for about minutes, and all the time very lustily cursing the nature of things. | |
We read also of Porson's shutting himself up in these chambers for or, days together, admitting no visitor. morning his friend Rogers went to call, having ascertained from the barber's hard by that Porson was at home, but had not been seen by any for days. Rogers proceeded to his chambers, and knocked at the door more than once; he would not open it, and Rogers came downstairs, but as he was crossing the court Porson opened the window and stopped him. He was then busy about the Grenville for which he collated the Harleian MS. of the , and received for his labour but and a large-paper copy. His chambers must have presented a strange scene, for he used books most cruelly, whether they were his own or belonged to others. He said that he possessed more copies of books than any private gentleman in England. | |
Rogers, when a Templar, occasionally had some visitors who absorbed more of his time than was always agreeable; an instance of which he thus relates:
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Before any person can-be admitted a member of the Temple, he must furnish a statement in writing, describing his age, residence, and condition in life, and adding a certificate of his respectability and fitness, signed by himself and a bencher of the society, or barristers. The requires the signatures of barristers of that Inn and of a bencher, but in each of the other Inns the signatures of barristers of any of the Inns will suffice. No person is admitted without the approbation of a bencher, or of the benchers in council assembled. | |
The includes the universities of Durham and London. At the the candidate for admission who has taken the degree of B.A., or passed an examination at the Universities of Oxford, Cambridge, or London, is required to pass an examination by a barrister, appointed by the Bench for that purpose, in the Greek and Latin languages, and history or literature in general. No person in priest's or deacon's orders can be called to the bar. In the , an attorney must have ceased to be on the rolls, and an articled clerk to be in articles , before he can be called to the bar. | |
Legal students worked hard in the old times; Coke's career is an example. In. he rose every morning at o'clock, lighting his own fire; and then read Bracton, Littleton, and the ponderous folio abridgments of the law till the court met, at o'clock. He then took boat for , and heard cases argued till o'clock, when the pleas ceased for dinner. After a meal in the Inner Temple Hall, he attended or lectures in the afternoon, and then resumed his private studies till supper-time at . Next came the moots, after which he slammed his chamber-door, and set to work with his commonplace book to index all the law he had amassed during tlie day. At , the steady student went to bed, securing good hours of sleep before midnight. It is said Coke never saw a play or read a play in his life-and that was Shakespeare's time In the reign of James I. the Temple was often called e had become a great lawyer then, and lived to become Lord Chief Justice. Pity 'tis that we have | |
179 | to remember that he reviled Essex and insulted Raleigh. King James once said of Coke in misfortune that he was like a cat, he always fell on his feet. |
History does not record many riots in the Temple, full of wild life as that quiet precinct has been. In different reigns, however, outbreaks occurred. In both cases the Templars, though rather hot and prompt, seem to have been right. At the dinner of John Prideaux, reader of the Inner Temple, in , the students took offence at Sir John Lyon, the Lord Mayor, coming in state, with his sword up, and the sword was dragged down as he passed through the cloisters. The same sort of affray took place again in , when Lord Mayor Peake came to Sir Christopher Goodfellow's feast, and the Lord Mayor had to be hidden in a bencher's chambers till, as Pepys relates, the fiery young sparks were decoyed away to dinner. The case was tried before Charles II., Heneage Finch pleaded for the Temple, claiming immemorial exemption from City jurisdiction. The case was never decided. From that day to this (says Mr. Noble) a settlement appears never to have been made; hence itis that the Temples claim to be closing nightly all their gates as the clock strikes , and keeping extra watch and ward when the parochial authorities upon Ascension Day. Many struggles have taken place to make the property rateable, and even of late the question has once more arisen; and it is hardly to be wondered at, for it would be a nice bit of business to assess the Templars upon the which they have returned as the annual rental of their estates. | |
[extra_illustrations.1.179.1] was with those ceaseless enemies of the Templars, the Alsatians, or lawless inhabitants of disreputable Whitefriars. . In , weary of their riotous and thievish neighbours, the benchers of the Inner Temple bricked up the gate (still existing in ) leading into the high street of Whitefriars; but the Alsatians, swarming out, pulled down as fast as the bricklayers built up. The Templars hurried together, swords flew out, the Alsatians plied pokers and shovels, and many heads were broken. Ultimately, men were killed, several wounded, and many hurried off to prison. Eventually, the ringleader of the Alsatians, Captain Francis White--a no doubt--was convicted of murder, in . This riot eventually did good, for it led to the abolition of London sanctuaries, those dens of bullies, low gamblers, thieves, and courtesans. | |
As the Middle Temple has grown gradually poorer and more neglected, many curious customs of the old banquets have died out. The loving cup, once fragrant with sweetened sack, is now used to hold the almost superfluous toothpicks. Oysters are no longer brought in, in term, every Friday before dinner; nor when bencher dines does he, on leaving the hall, invite the senior bar man to come and take wine with him in the parliament chamber (the accommodation-room of Oxford colleges). Yet the rich and epicurean Inner Temple still cherishes many worthy customs, affects French dishes, and is curious in ; while the Middle Temple growls over its geological salad, that some hungry wit has compared to A writer in , quoting the old proverb, says few great men have come from the Middle Temple. How can acumen be derived from the scrag-end of a neck of mutton, or inspiration from griskins? At a late dinner, says Mr. Timbs (), there were present only benchers, barristers, and students. | |
An Inner Temple banquet--is a very grand thing. At , or half-past , the barristers and students in their gowns follow the benchers in procession to the dais; the steward strikes the table solemnly a mystic times, grace is said by the treasurer, or senior bencher present, and the men of law fall to. In former times it was the custom to blow a horn in every court to announce the meal, but how long this ancient Templar practice has been discontinued we do not know. The benchers observe somewhat more style at their table than the other members do at theirs. The general repast is a tureen of soup, a joint of meat, a tart, and cheese, to each mess, consisting of persons, and each mess is allowed a bottle of port wine. Dinner is served daily to the members of the Inn during term time; the masters of the Bench dining on the state, or dais, and the barristers and students at long tables extending down the hall. On grand days the judges are present, who dine in succession with each of the Inns of Court. To the parliament chamber, adjoining the hall, the benchers repair after dinner. The loving cups used on certain grand occasions are huge silver goblets, which are passed down the table, filled with a delicious composition, immemorially termed consisting of sweetened and exquisitely-flavoured white wine. The butler attends the progress of the cup, to replenish it; and each student is by rule restricted to a ; yet it is recorded that once, though the number present fell short of , quarts of the liquid were sipped away. At the Inner Temple, on , | |
180 | a gold cup of sack is handed to each member, who drinks to the happy restoration of Charles II. |
The writer in before referred to alludes to the strict silence enjoined at the Inner Temple dinners, the, only intercourse between the several members of the mess being the usual social scowl vouchsafed by your true-born Englishman to persons who have not the honour of his acquaintance. You may, indeed, on an emergency, ask your neighbour for the salt; but then it is also perfectly understood that he is not obliged to notice your request. | |
The old term of seems to have originated in the custom of summoning students, that had attained a certain standing, to the bar that separated the benchers' dais from the hall, to take part in certain probationary | |
mootings or discussions on points of law. The mere student sat farthest from the bar. | |
When these mootings were discontinued deponent sayeth not. In Coke's time (), that great lawyer, after supper at o'clock, used to join the moots, when questions of law were proposed. and discussed, when fine on the garden terrace, in rainy weather in the Temple cloisters. The dinner alone now remains; dining is now the only legal study of Temple students. | |
In the a years' standing and commons kept suffices to entitle a gentleman to be called to the bar, provided he is above years of age. No person can be called to the bar at any of the Inns of Court before he is years of age; and a standing of years is understood to be required of every | |
181 | member before being called. The members of the several universities, & c., may, however, be called after years' standing. [extra_illustrations.1.181.1] |
[extra_illustrations.1.181.2] ( acres in extent) has probably been a garden from the time the white-mantled Templars came from and settled by the river-side. This little paradise of nurserymaids and London children is entered from the terrace by an iron gate (date, ); and the winged horse that surmounts the portal has looked down on many a distinguished visitor. In the centre of the grass is such a [extra_illustrations.1.181.3] as Charles Lamb loved, with the date, . A little to the east of this stands [extra_illustrations.1.181.4] , which, years since, was railed in as the august mummy of that umbrageous tree under whose shade, as tradition says, Johnson and Goldsmith used to sit and converse. According to an engraving of there were formerly trees; so that Shakespeare himself may have sat under them and meditated on the Wars of the Roses. The print shows a brick terrace faced with stone, with a flight of steps at the north. The old river wall of stood or yards farther north than the | |
present; and when Paper Buildings were erected, part of this wall was dug up. The view given on this page, and taken from an old view in the Temple, shows a portion of the old wall, with the doorway opening upon the . | |
The Temple Garden, half a century since, was famous for its white and red roses (the Old Provence, Cabbage, and the Maiden's Blush-Timbs); and the lime trees were delightful in the time of bloom. There were only steamboats on the river then; but the steamers and factory smoke soon spoiled everything but the hardy chrysanthemums. How ever, since the Smoke Consuming Act has been enforced, the roses, stocks, and hawthorns have again taken heart, and blossom with grateful luxuriance. In Mr. Broome, the zealous gardener of the Inner Temple, exhibited at the Central Horticultural Society trusses of roses grown under his care. In the flower-beds next the main walk he managed to secure successive crops of flowers--the pompones were especially gaudy and beautiful; but his chief triumph were the [extra_illustrations.1.181.5] of the northern border. The trees, however, seem delicate, and suffering from the cold | |
182 | winds, dwindle as they approach the river. The planes, limes, and wych elms stand best. The Temple rooks--the wise birds Goldsmith delighted to watch--were originally brought by Sir William Northcote from Woodcote Green, Epsom, but they left in disgust, many years since. Mr. Timbs says that families enjoy these gardens throughout the year, and about of the outer world, chiefly children, who are always in search of the lost Eden, come here annually. The flowers and trees are rarely injured, thanks to the much-abused London public. |
In the secluded Middle Temple Garden is [extra_illustrations.1.182.1] , supposed to have been planted by that grave and just judge, Sir Matthew Hale. On the lawn is a large table sun-dial, elaborately gilt and embellished. From the library oriel the Thames and its bridges, and the Houses of Parliament, form a grand | |
The revenue of the Middle Temple alone is said to be a year. With the savings we are, of course, entirely ignorant. The students' dinners are half paid for by themselves, the library is kept up on very little fodder, and altogether the system of auditing the Inns of Court accounts is as incomprehensible as the Sybilline oracles; but there can be no doubt it is all right, and very well managed. | |
In the century (says Mr. Noble) a benevolent member of the Middle Temple conveyed to the benchers in fee several houses in the City, out of the rents of which to pay a stated salary to each of referees, who were to meet on days weekly, in term, from to , in the hall or other convenient place, and without fee on either side, to settle as best they could all disputes submitted to them. From that time the referees have been appointed, but there is no record of a single case being tried by them. The gentlemen, finding their office a sinecure, have devoted their salaries to making periodical additions to the library. May we be allowed to ask, was this benevolent object ever made known to the public generally? We cannot but think, if it had been, that the respected arbitrators would not have had to complain of the office as a sinecure. | |
He who can enumerate the wise and great men who have been educated in the Temple can count off the stars on his finger and measure the sands of the sea-shore by teacupsful. To cull a few, we may mention that the Inner Temple boasts among its eminent members Audley, Chancellor to Henry VIII.; Nicholas Hare, of celebrity; the great lawyer, Littleton (), and Coke, his commentator; Sir Christopher Hatton, the dancing Chancellor; Lord Buckhurst; Selden; Judge Jeffries; Beaumont, the poet; William Browne, the author of (so much praised by the Lamb and Hazlitt school); Cowper, the poet; and Sir William Follett. | |
From the Middle Temple have also sprung swarms of great lawyers. We may mention specially Plowden, the jurist, Sir Walter Raleigh, Sir Thomas Overbury (who was poisoned in the Tower), John Ford ( of the latest of the great dramatists), Sir Edward Bramston (chamber-fellow to Mr. Hyde, afterwards Lord Clarendon), Bulstrode Whitelocke ( of Cromwell's Ministers), Lord- Keeper Guildford (Charles II.), Lord Chancellor omers, Wycherley and Congreve (the dramatists), and Southern (comedy writers), Sir William Blackstone, Edmund Burke, Sheridan, Dunning (Lord Ashburton), Lord Chancellor Eldon, Lord Stowell, as a few among a multitude. | |
Footnotes: [extra_illustrations.1.171.6] little fountain in Fountain Court [extra_illustrations.1.171.8] Fountain Court [extra_illustrations.1.172.4] L. E. L. (Miss Landon) [extra_illustrations.1.172.5] The Inner Temple Library [extra_illustrations.1.172.6] The entrance to the Middle Temple from Fleet Street [extra_illustrations.1.172.2] Inner Temple Gate, Fleet Street [extra_illustrations.1.173.1] the poet Cowper [extra_illustrations.1.174.1] The portrait [extra_illustrations.1.176.3] Earl of Mansfield [extra_illustrations.1.176.1] King's Bench Walk [extra_illustrations.1.176.2] Mansfield's [extra_illustrations.1.177.1] Old Chambers, Middle Temple Lane [extra_illustrations.1.177.2] Temple Lane [extra_illustrations.1.177.3] and one in Brick Court on which Goldsmith must often have gazed--the motto, Time and tide tarry for no man. [extra_illustrations.1.178.1] Porson [extra_illustrations.1.179.1] A third riot [extra_illustrations.1.181.1] Eisteddfod in Temple Gardens [extra_illustrations.1.181.2] The Inner Temple Garden [extra_illustrations.1.181.3] sun-dial [extra_illustrations.1.181.4] an old sycamore [extra_illustrations.1.181.5] chrsyanthemums [extra_illustrations.1.182.1] an old catalpa tree |