BY JOHN R.G.  HASSARD

The Temple is crowded with the ghosts of fiction.  Here were the neglected chambers, lumbered with heaps and parcels of books, where Tom Pinch was set to work by Mr. Fips, and where old Martin Chuzzlewit revealed himself in due time and knocked Mr. Pecksniff into a corner.  Here Mr. Mortimer Lightwood’s dismal office-boy leaned out of a dismal window overlooking the dismal churchyard; and here Mortimer and Eugene were visited by Mr. Boffin offering a large reward for the conviction of the murderer of John Harmon; by that honest water-side character, Rogue Riderhood, anxious to earn “a pot o’ money” in the sweat of his brow by swearing away the life of Gaffer Hexam; by Bradley Headstone and Charley Hexam; by “Mr. Dolls,” negotiating for “three-penn’orths of rum.”

It was in Garden Court of The Temple, in the house nearest the river, that Pip, holding his lamp over the stairs one stormy night, saw the returned convict climbing up to his rooms to disclose the mystery of his Great Expectations.  Close by the gateway from The Temple into Fleet Street, and adjoining the site of Temple Bar, is Child’s ancient banking house, the original of Tellson’s Bank in a “Tale of Two Cities.”  The demolition of Temple Bar made necessary some alterations in the bank, too; and when I was last there the front of the old building which so long defied time and change was boarded up.

Chancery Lane, opposite The Temple, running from Fleet Street to Holborn—­a distance only a little greater than that between the Fifth and Sixth Avenues in New York—­is the principal pathway through the “perplexed and troublous valley of the shadow of the law.”  At either end of it there are fresh green spots; but the lane itself is wholly given up to legal dust and darkness.  Facing it, on the farther side of Holborn, in a position corresponding with that of The Temple at the Fleet Street extremity, is Gray’s Inn, especially attractive to me on account of the long grassy enclosure within its innermost court, so smooth and bright and well-kept that I always stopt to gaze longingly at it through the railed barrier which shuts strangers out—­as if here were a tennis lawn reserved for the exclusive vise of frisky barristers.

At No. 2 Holborn Court, in Gray’s Inn, David Copperfield, on his return from abroad near the end of the story, found the rooms of that rising young lawyer, Mr. Thomas Traddles.  There was a great scuttling and scampering when David knocked at the door; for Traddles was at that moment playing puss-in-the-corner with Sophy and “the girls.”  Thavies’ Inn, on the other side of Holborn, a little farther east, is no longer enclosed; it is only a little fragment of shabby street which starts, with mouth wide open, to run out of Holborn Circus, and stops short, after a few reds, without having got anywhere.  The faded houses look as if they belonged to East Broadway; and in one of them lived Mrs. Jellyby....