The favorite places of resort in the City were the galleries of the Royal Exchange, filled with shops for the sale of gloves, ribbons, laces, fans, scent, and such things. The shops were kept by young women who, like the modern bar-maid, added the attraction of a pretty face to the beauty of their wares. The piazza of Covent Garden was another favorite place, but this, with Spring Gardens, Vauxhall, was outside the City. The old desecration of Paul's was to a great extent stopped by the erection of the West Porch, designed for those who met here for purposes of business. [Illustration: OLD ST. PAUL'S, WITH THE PORCH OF INIGO JONES] Coffee-houses were first set up at this time, and at once became indispensable to the citizens, who before had had no other place of evening resort than the tavern. The City houses were "Dick's" and the "Rainbow," in Fleet Street; "Tom's," of Birchin Lane (not to speak of the more classic "Tom's," of Covent Garden). Nearly all the old inns of the City have now been destroyed. Fifty years ago many were still standing, with their galleries and their open courts. Such were the "Bell," of Warwick Lane; the "Belle Sauvage," of Ludgate Hill; the "Blossom," Laurence Lane; the "Black Lion," Whitefriars Street; the "Four Swans," Bishopsgate Street; the "Saracen's Head," Friday Street, and many others. It is, I suppose, pretty clear that the songs collected by Tom d'Urfey are a fair representation of the delectable and edifying ditties sung in taverns, and when the society was "mixed." It would be easy to preach against the wickedness of the times which could permit the singing of such songs, but in reality they are no worse than the songs of the preceding generation, to which, indeed, many of them belong. And, besides, it does not appear that the better sort of people regaled themselves with this kind of song at all, and even in this collection there are a great many which are really beautiful. The following pretty lines are taken almost at random from one of the volumes of the _Pills to Purge Melancholy_. They are called a "Description of Chloris:" "Have you e'er seen the morning Sun From fair Aurora's bosom run? Or have you seen on Flora's bed The essences of white and red? Then you may boast, for you have seen My fairer Chloris, Beauty's Queen. "Have you e'er pleas'd your skilful ears With the sweet music of the Spheres? Have you e'er heard the Syrens sing, Or Orpheus play to Hell's black King? If so, be happy and rejoyce, For thou hast heard my Chloris' Voice. "Have you e'er tasted what the Bee Steals from each fragrant flower or tree? Or did you ever taste that meat Which poets say the Gods did eat? O then I will no longer doubt But you have found my Chloris out."