formerly three 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 1670 stood
fifty or sixty 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 Temple Stairs.

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
two steamboats on the river then; but the steamers and factory smoke
soon spoiled everything but the hardy chrysanthemums. However, since the
Smoke Consuming Act has been enforced, the roses, stocks, and hawthorns
have again taken heart, and blossom with grateful luxuriance. In 1864
Mr. Broome, the zealous gardener of the Inner Temple, exhibited at the
Central Horticultural Society twenty-four trusses of roses grown under
his care. In the flower-beds next the main walk he managed to secure
four successive crops of flowers--the pompones were especially gaudy and
beautiful; but his chief triumph were the chrysanthemums of the northern
border. The trees, however, seem delicate, and suffering from the cold
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 200 families enjoy these gardens throughout the year, and about
10,000 of the outer world, chiefly children, who are always in search of
the lost Eden, come hers annually. The flowers and trees are rarely
injured, thanks to the much-abused London public.

In the secluded Middle Temple Garden is an old catalpa tree, 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, Somerset House and the
Houses of Parliament, form a grand _coup d'oeil_.

The revenue of the Middle Temple alone is said to be L13,000 a year.
With the savings we are, of course, entirely ignorant. The students'
din