But we now come to a gem of its kind--one of the antiquarian treasures of London--yet little known and little visited. In one of the streets leading out of Holborn Circus--at the threshold of the City, of banks and mercantile business--we find a retired street, or _cul de sac_, of modest old-fashioned houses, which are approached through a carefully guarded gate. This is Ely Place, and here, a little way down on the left, is to be found this rare cynosure. It is interesting in every view--from its historical associations, the strange vicissitudes through which it has passed, its narrow escapes from destruction or conversion to profane uses, and its precious and native grace. The old houses of the street have a sleepy air, which is in keeping, and no clatter of carts or carriages disturbs the solitude. The place is given over to commission agents, native and foreign, while the celebrated firm of solicitors, “Lewis and Lewis,” together with the graceful chapel, divide the attractions of the street. [Illustration: The Crypt. S. Etheldreda’s Hume Nisbet ] The chapel stands back from the roadway, from which is a descent of steps which leads to the level of the lower chapel or crypt. For here is the singular interest of the building; there are two chapels, one under the other, and apparently of equal pretension. Entering, we find ourselves in gloom, Cimmerian almost, in a long, low crypt, with lights glimmering at the far end. The ceiling still shows the original, roughly-hewn beams, like the timber framing in the hold of a vessel, while down the middle a row of eight short, blunted columns supports it, from each of which the supporting timbers radiate, fan-like. The lancet windows at the side are remarkable as revealing the enormous thickness--it seems about twelve feet in depth--of [Illustration: S. Etheldreda’s Church.] the almost Roman wall, though on the right-hand side either necessity or convenience has prompted the filling of these recesses with confessionals. On the left, near the altar, a flight of steps leads up through a Gothic door to a cloister, whence other stairs wind on to the elegant chapel above. Here opens a perfect surprise, from its two vast windows, which through all vicissitudes and disfigurements have been treated tenderly, and have excited the admiration of architects and amateurs. The grace or proportion displayed in window and wall, the unobtrusive decorations, the fine old ribbed roof--these and other attractions make this chapel one of the genuine treasures of London.