One of the most satisfactory monuments in London is the sad-looking old gateway in Lincoln’s Inn. The restorers were slowly working their way down, clearing away and rebuilding in view of increased rents, and the old gate would probably have been swept off, but that some one has raised the cry of alarm. We can ill spare this fine old piece, which dates from 1518. The effect of entering under the archway--the decayed old timbers of the massive door, the highly-picturesque little towers, the corners and crannies on the left, the glimpse of the winding stair, and the old Inigo Jones chapel on the right, make this a pleasant bit of antiquity. There are many turns and corners in the City which forcibly suggest “bits” of foreign towns. One of the most effective is a narrow alley which leads out of Newgate Street to the entrance of Christ’s Hospital, where the white tower of the church rises with picturesque effect close to the old copper-red archway that leads into the hospital. Here is an old churchyard, on which looks the effective brick building, with its high roof and eaves of the time of Wren, while the quaint statue of King Edward, arrayed in old-fashioned garb, is perched in a niche. This little corner and alley wears quite a calm and peaceful air of retirement. Contrast between different styles is always welcome and original. As the busy pedestrian hurries through Newgate Street, he has perhaps often paused to note the quaintly-attired, half-monastic, Christchurch lads enjoying their football, their fine hall and arcades rising behind. There are said to be over eight hundred of these lads on the foundation, which dates from the time of King Edward the Sixth. It is curious to note how the old monastic tone and ritual of the foundation has lingered on to this hour. On each Thursday in Lent this is strikingly shown by an antique and interesting ceremonial, when hundreds of City folks, burghers, and others, flock to see “the public supping” of the lads, conducted with much obsolete observance and character. The hour named is half-past six, but long before the time the company crowds the picturesque corridors and cloister. Entering by the tall Wren steeple through the rubicund brick gateway, crossing the court, the great Hall is seen with its huge emblazoned windows illuminated from within. This vast chamber, of extraordinary length and loftiness, is a modern work, but a signal success. The dimensions and spaciousness are really extraordinary, and it will readily hold several thousand persons. It has its music gallery at one end, with an organ large enough for a cathedral, and at the other end rows of raised seats for eager spectators. Down the room are set out the rows of long oaken tables to accommodate the eight hundred lads, or it may be a thousand. Very soon the spectators are settled in their places, and the boys begin to defile in regular divisions, seating themselves with their backs to the tables, until the wished-for moment arrives.