On Dowgate Hill also, we find another of these quaint Halls. A rather elegant, modern, pierced gate of ironwork closes up an archway, and, looking through, we see an inviting Court within. Entering through the arch, which passes under a deep mass of houses, we find ourselves in a charming little courtyard with quite an Italian air, set round with an arcade supporting a rubicund brick building with elegant windows and airy carvings; some modern additions and renovations have been combined, with excellent taste. There is mural painting too. Such is Dyers’ Hall--a pleasing, piquant little place. While lamenting the loss of the old patterns of Hall, pulled down, or destroyed by fire, we must admire the sumptuous, and even magnificent, buildings which have taken their place; such as the massive, floridly decorated façade of the Drapers’ Hall in Throgmorton Street. This street, as it bends or winds, has a majestic, almost Genoese, air; its great gloomy buildings rise solemnly on each side of the narrow street, foreign in tone; towards the close of the business day, the street becomes filled with crowds of animated noisy figures pouring out of the Stock Exchange, and debating their bargains in the open air. This scene--the narrow street, the stately shadowy buildings frowning down on the figures--suggests one of the retired picturesque streets in Ghent, or even in some Italian city. The busy, substantial negotiators have a burgher-like air, and the whole is utterly different from anything to be seen in the trivial West End. The Drapers’ Hall is a vast and ponderous mass, already blackened with age, though young in years, but very striking in character, with its enormous and richly florid cornice, bold windows, and heavily arched portals. As we look through the iron rails, we can see a retired court, curious contrast to the noisy scene without. The old “Drapers’ Gardens” used to stretch down the whole street that turns out of Throgmorton Street, and were admired for their tranquil air of old fashion. Gradually they have been encroached upon; warehouses have been reared, and a fragment only now remains. Even this remnant, however, is welcome, and the promenade down the alley leaves an impression as of something old-fashioned and rural. Such are a few of these very striking “survivals.” CHAPTER XXI. ALLHALLOWS, ST. OLAVE’S, ELY CHAPEL, ETC. The old City Churches offer an inexhaustible field for a London explorer. There is nothing more touching than the air of utter abandonment of some of these forlorn structures, appropriately situated in some fast-decaying quarter. They seem closed for ever; and with many are associated strange histories.