It seems strange that such a lawless community should then have dwelt almost within the very sanctuary of the law, for the author (Ned Ward) just quoted tells us, that "he passed through the little wicket of a great pair of gates into the Temple." We must not pass without noticing St. Bride's Church, situated by the office of our merry neighbour _Punch_, who does his "spiriting gently," and is as great a "terror to evil-doers" as the constables were in the olden time to the sinners of Alsatia. This is another of Wren's beautiful churches, and is enriched by stained glass, copied from Rubens, the subject the Descent from the Cross. The steeple was struck by lightning in 1764, and when repaired was reduced in height, though it still towers a graceful and noble monument above the surrounding houses, as it "Points its silent finger to the sky, And teaches grovelling man to look on high." In the old church, destroyed in the Great Fire, was buried the famous printer Wynkin de Worde, whose works are now worth their weight in gold, and are almost as scarce as those which were issued from the press by Caxton. Here also was buried the notorious Mary Frith, commonly called Moll Cut-Purse. On her adventures Dekker and Middleton founded the play entitled _The Roving Girl, or Moll Cut-Purse_. She died in the seventy-fifth year of her age, at her house in Fleet-street, next the Globe tavern, in 1659. In her will she left 20_l._ for the conduit to run with wine at the Restoration of Charles II. It was Moll who robbed General Fairfax on Hounslow Heath. Her life was published in 1662. She was, says Granger, "a fortune-teller, a pickpocket, a thief, and a receiver of stolen goods." She died of the dropsy, and her life is supposed to have been prolonged through the large quantity of tobacco which she smoked. Our great Milton at one time lodged in St. Bride's churchyard. It would form a goodly catalogue of celebrated names to enumerate all who have been buried in St. Bride's, or lived in the adjoining neighbourhood. Many of the houses, as in the time of Milton, in the back streets and alleys are let out in lodgings; and we will now give, from our own experience, a specimen of a downright London lodging-house--we mean, one in which the landlord lives entirely by letting lodgings--for we allude not to hotels, or respectable boarding-houses, but to places where you are "taken in and done for."