since built over lay at the back of Botolph's Lane
in Thames Street. That is built over and forgotten. There is another
where lies the dust of the marvellous boy Chatterton. I am due that of
the thousands who every day seek this spot not one can tell or
remember that it was once a burying ground. On this spot the paupers
of the parish of St. Andrew's, Holborn, were buried--Chatterton, that
poor young pauper! with them. And it is now a market, Farringdon
Market--close to Farringdon Street--opposite the site of the Old Fleet
Prison whence came so many of the bodies which now lie beneath these
flags.

Or, a pilgrim may consider the City with special reference to the
great Houses which formerly stood within its walls. There were palaces
in the City--King Athelstan had one; King Richard II. lived for a time
in the City; Richard III. lived here; Henry V. had a house here. Of
the great nobles, the Beaumonts, Scropes, Arundells, Bigods all had
houses. The names of Worcester House, Buckingham House, Hereford
House, suggest the great Lords who formerly lived here. And the names
of Crosby Hall, Basinghall, Gresham House, College Hill, recall the
merchants who built themselves palaces and entertained kings.

Again, there are the City Companies and their Halls. Very few visitors
ever make the round of the Halls: yet they are most curious, and
contain treasures great and various. It is not always easy to see
these treasures, but the conscientious pilgrim, who, by the way, must
not seek entrance into these Halls on the Sunday morning, will
persevere until he has managed to see them all.

As for the sights of the City--the things which Baedeker enumerates,
and which foreign and country visitors run to see--the Tower, the
Monument, the Guildhall, the Mansion House, the Royal Exchange, the
Mint, St. Paul's, and the rest, I say nothing, because the pilgrim
does not waste his Sunday morning over things to be seen as well on
any other day. But there are some things to be seen every day which
are best approached on Sunday, by reason of the peace which prevails
and a certain solemnity in the air. I would, for instance, choose to
visit the Charter House on a Sunday morning, I would sit with the
Pensioners in their quiet chapel, and I would stroll about the
peaceful courts of that holy place, venerable not only for its history
but for the broken and ruined lives--often ruined only in purse, but
rich in honour and in noble record--of the fif