5 <J 0 LON 
nearly in all the circumftances of his life. However, per- 
feverar.ee and economy have conquered all. Retired, like 
a lonely anchorite, in the attic apartment of an inn of 
court, there, not unlike the bird of Minerva, who perches 
on the neighbouring gutter, and “ moping to the moon 
complains,” our friend filently and wifely enjoys what he 
calls (and who dares fay he is not right?) a comfortable 
life. He is fond of old engravings and mufty pictures; 
his room does not exhibit an inch of plafter that is not 
clofely covered with fuch precious decorations. His tole¬ 
rance has.al!owed him to be fond of popifh relics; and 
pieces of copes and chalices, from the times of the heptarchy 
to this day, are refpeftfully hung around his bed-chamber. 
Old miiTals, and curious editions of fcarce books, fleep on 
his (helves; and precious medals repofe in his cabinets. 
Ancient ftained glafs chequers bis window-frames with 
the feven-fold glories of the rainbow ; and Mambrino’s hel¬ 
met chides its neighbour, the real bit of copper-ore, for 
not expofing more figniftcantly the greenifh treafures of 
its bol'om. In fail, Mr. M’s fmall apartment is truly 
a kind of microcofm, where time and place have loft their 
diltances; where the productions of Otaheite and Mexico 
are contiguous to the Englifh and French beautiful china; 
where the Etrufcan vafe difplays its red and black allego¬ 
ries by the fide of modern filagree. 
“But how could any body gather fo many and valuable 
curiofities, with no other help but a very fmall patrimony, 
which prudence bids him to preferve, and natural fearful- 
nefs forbids hirn to increafe ? For thefe laft thirty years 
he has employed the fame hair-dreffer, who, out of re- 
Ipect (we fuppofe), never railed his price; the fame laun- 
drefs and her daughter have conftantly attended him 
for the fame wages, becaufe, as they fay, they are fure 
of their money, let it be ever fo little; and the dime 
eating-houfe has contributed to his fubfiftence. A con- 
ltant cuftomer for fo long a period, is fure to be well-treated; 
and Mr. M. never found caufe to change his board, though 
the landlord of the houfe he ufes has been changed more 
than once. Sobriety with him is the order of the day ; but 
a friend can enjoy, at his chambers, as comfortable a cup 
of tea as at any alderman’s rofe-wood table. Generally 
averfe to crowds, he runs through the ftreet; and, if he is 
ever prefled or jammed any where, it muft be in Some fo¬ 
reign chapel, where, though bred up a member of the efta- 
bliihed church, he often repairs to witnefs the Ruffian or 
Roman liturgies. As his days are peaceful and harmlefs, 
Bis nights are undifturbed and happy. Elis diet is regular, 
light, and wholefotne ; therefore he enjoys his health. But 
do not fuppofe that the overplus of his income is exclu¬ 
sively fpent to fatisfy his whims, and buy fodder for his 
hobby-horfe. He feels as a man ought for the miferies of 
others; the fly (hilling often drops from his hand into the 
worn-out hat of the blind and lame, and they blefs him, 
as they would an angel, invilible and unknown. 
“ In a word, Mr. M’s life, which, we are forry to fay, is 
now on the decline, has been like the'nightly lamp, that 
keeps itfelf in darknefs, whilft it illuminates others; and, 
for tile many years we have observed him attentively, we 
never heard him complain of any body, nor any body 
of him. Mr. M. is a bachelor ; therefore he never en¬ 
joyed the fweets of conjugal love, and the comforts of 
a father; no—nor the bitternefs of iealoufy, and the con¬ 
tinual anxieties of a tender parent for his children. 
The journal of his daily conduct is as follows:—Mr. M. 
rifes at half paft feven in winter, and at half palt five 
in fumroer; lights his fire himfelf, and dulls his curio- 
iities; breakfalts exactly at nine ; remains in his red da- 
mafk morning-gown till ten or eleven ; drefl'es, and goes 
to take a walk if the weather proves fine; returns home 
at one, ftudies till three, goes to Salifbury-court and dines, 
takes a fecond walk, or returns home if. it rains; drinks 
tea at fix precifely;. writes or reads till nine; takes a glafs 
of ale, with a crult of bread ; and at half paft nine retires 
to his bed, where he fleeps foundly till the next day brings 
the fame routine over again,” The reader will by this 
DON. 
time begin to think of “ the diary of a Angle gentleman* 
mentioned in the Spectator. 
The pafl'age through Bernard’s Inn into Fetter-lane en- 
clofes the buildings of an immenfe diftiilery which has 
been reftored fir.ee it fell a prey to the infuriated mob in 
the year J780, on account of the owner being a Roman 
catholic. The north accefs to Fetter-lane is as narrow as 
the fouth, and exhibits ftill one or two old houfes with 
projecting ftories.-— Beyond Fetter-lane we find Bartlett’s 
Buildings, a neat court well ltored with neat houfes; and 
a little farther on the fame fide of the ftreet is Thavies’ 
Inn, concerning which we can add nothing to what we 
have faid at p. 8z. of vol. xi. 
Contiguous to this inn, and at the north-weft angle of 
Shoe-lane, (lands the parifti-church of St. Andrew, Hoi- 
born. This church efcaped the fire of London; notwith- 
ftanding which, it was found fo ruinous, that it was entirely 
rebuilt in 1687, except the tower, which was not erected 
till 1704. The body of the church is a hundred and five 
feet long, fixty-three broad, and forty-three high, and the 
height of the tower is a hundred and ter. feet. The body 
is well built, and lighted by two feries of windows; and 
on the top of it runs a handfome baluffrade. The tower 
rifes a fquare, and confifts only of two llages, crowned 
with battlements and pinnacles at the corners. The fir.ft 
lfage, which is plain, has the dial; in the upper ftage there 
is a very handfome window to each front; tall, arched,, 
and decorated with Doric pilalters, which fupport a lofty 
arched pediment, decorated within by a fliield. The cor¬ 
nice, that crowns the tower, is fupported by lcrolls; and 
the baluftrade that rifes above this has a very firm bafe. 
Each corner of the tower has an ornamental pinnacle, con¬ 
fining of four large ferolis, which, meeting in a body, fup¬ 
port a pine-apple; and from the crown of the fruit rifes a 
vane. The infide is extremely neat, and well finifhed. 
Over the communion-table is a large painted window, the 
lower part of which reprefents the Melfiah and hisdifciples 
at the Laft Supper; and in a compartment above is repre- 
fented his refurreCtion from the grave. The church (lands 
at an advantageous dirtance front the ftreet, from which 
it is feparated by a wall, that inclofes the church-yard, 
and the entrance to it is by large and elegant iron gates. 
This church is a rectory, the patronage of which was ori¬ 
ginally in the dean and canons of St. Paul’s, who tranf- 
ferred it to the abbot and convent of Bermondfey, and they 
continued patrons of it till their convent was diifolved by 
Henry VIII. when that prince granted it to Thomas lord 
Wriothefley, afterwards earl of Southampton, from whom 
it defeended by marriage to the late duke of Montague, in 
whofe family the patronage ftill remains. Wriothefley 
was lord chancellor in the latter part of the life of Plenry 
VIII. He was a fiery zealot, who, not content with feeing 
the amiable and innocent Anne Afkew put to the torture, 
for no other crime than difference of faith, flung off liis 
gown, degraded the chancellor into the bourreau, and with 
his own hands gave force to the rack. He was created 
earl of Southampton juft before the coronation of Edward 
VI. but, obltinately adhering to the old religion, he was 
difmiffed from his poft, and confined to Southampton- 
houfe, where he died in 1550; and was buried in this 
church. The well-known party-tool Dr. Sacheverel was 
reCtor of this church. He bad the chance of meeting in 
his pnrifii a perfon as turbulent as himfelf, the noted Mr. 
Whifton: that fingular character took it into his head 
to difturb the doCtor while he was in his pulpit venting 
fome doCtrine contrary to the opinion of that heterodox 
man. The doctor in great wrath defeended from on 
high, and fairly turned “ wicked Will. Whifton” out of 
the church. 
Nearly oppefite St. Andrew’s church is Ely Place, com¬ 
municating by a narrow, pafl'age with Hatton Garden, 
which is one of the handlomelt ftreets in London, and 
was built upon the fite of the town-houfe and gardens of 
the Hattons,founded by fir Christopher Hatton, lord-keeper 
in the reign of queen Elizabeth. He firlt attracted the 
