a melody bringing sweet fancies to mind,--
Some to grieve, some to gladden: around them they cast
The hopes of the morrow, the dreams of the past.
Away in the distance is heard the vast sound
From the streets of the city that compass it round,
Like the echo of fountains, or the ocean's deep call;
Yet that fountain's low singing is heard over all.

Entering the houses, we find them mostly of a stereotyped pattern. A
wainscoted, dark, and generally uncarpeted staircase gives access to
landings on which abut the outer doors of the "sets," or chambers. These
consist of two, three, or at most four rooms, in the style peculiar to the
domestic architecture of the earlier years of the present century. High
corniced ceilings, wainscoted walls, and shoulder-high chimney-pieces
abound. Here and there, however, some opulent tenant has modernized his
rooms; but the structures, inside and out, remain for the most part not
materially changed from the later Georgian era of their erection,--a time
when every gentleman sported a small-sword and ladies wore hoops and
patches. The famous garden forms one of the chief charms of the Temple
enclosure, and its beauty and atmosphere of quiet repose are justly
celebrated. Here Shakespeare is believed to have sat and thought out some
of his most masterly creations; here many of the great legal luminaries of
the last few centuries walked and talked; and here the infantile footsteps
of the subsequently famous "Elia" chased butterflies across the velvety
sward. "The Temple Garden," says Mr. Walter Thornbury, "has probably been
a garden from the time the white-robed Templars first came from Holborn
and settled by the river-side." It covers an expanse of three acres, and
its gay flower-beds, umbrageous trees, and emerald turf make it a
veritable oasis to the inhabitants, and especially to the children, of
that corner of the great metropolis. A pillar sundial in the centre of the
grass bears the date 1770, and the iron gate, surmounted by a winged horse,
which guards the entrance from the terrace, was erected in 1730. East of
the sundial is a hoary old sycamore, sole survivor of three sisters,
carefully protected by railings, under whose grateful shade, says local
tradition, Johnson and Goldsmith were wont to chat. In the Middle Temple
Garden stands a venerable catalpa-tree, planted by Sir Matthew Hale, "one
of the most eminent of lawyers and excellent of men." The sc