remain above another. The mighty fire came in its terror upon the city, sweeping it away like chaff before the wind, and rendering old St. Paul's* a tottering ruin; and there, amid the destruction, upon the burning cinders, fearless, amid the embers that crumbled about him-calm, amid the desola

tion that surrounded him on every side-heedless of the smoke and débris of what should be seen no more, was the fearless architect, concentrating a mind of inconceivable strength, knowledge, solidity, purity, vastness, and

* Old St. Paul's was the idol of the Londoners. They seem to have looked upon it as the very perfection of its class, and were redolent of its praises. One of its great holds in popular affection consisted in the belief of its legendary history. It was supposed to stand upon the site of the Roman temple to Diana, and believed to be the spot where Christianity first found a home among us. All the older antiquaries fall in with this popular belief; and the legends they tell may be comprehended by a reference to the pages of Camden. Its great antiquity, and its constant connexion with the historic and ecclesiastical history of our country, gave it however a strong interest. Its interior was enriched with the tombs of the great and the learned, some few relics of which are preserved in the crypts of the present building.

vigour, upon one point-the restoration of London! Up to this period he had been one of whom no evil was ever whispered, but at once the undercurrent of self-interest, that muddy, babbling, polluted stream, was let loose upon him; yet he stood between the glory of London and the mean and paltry economy that would have neglected the clearance made by the fire, and patched and cramped St. Paul's emancipated from its disjointed thraldom by what to individuals was a great calamity. If the plans of this astonishing projector had been worked out altogether, as he intended, we should have had a city as remarkable for the dignity of uniformity as for extent.* He proposed a street ninety feet wide to proceed from

The long-drawn aisles were in the sixteenth century used as the meeting-place and lounge of the citizens. So began desecration, and the cathedral became a place for idlers and a noisy rendezvous not always respectable. In a short time dilapidation and decay began to appear, and during the reign of James I. strong measures were necessary to be adopted to preserve the building at all. Our cut shows its palmy state when the steeple was entire. It was destroyed by fire in 1561, some say by lightning, others by the neglect of plumbers, who left their fires burning in their absence. It was new roofed after this; but was neglected until the reign of Charles I., who did that which had been urged during his father's reign unfruitfully, and set the example of restoration by building at his own expense a noble portico. Others followed the royal example and subscribed towards the work nobly, and in 1643 the renovation was completed at a cost of about one hundred thousand pounds. The Civil War came, and with it a desecration worse than any previous one to which the noble building had been subjected. Horses were stabled within its walls, and it received so much injury, that on the restoration of Charles, that of the cathedral became again necessary. It was slowly proceeded with when the Great Fire left it a mere mass of ruins, to be succeeded by Wren's far grander and more uniform conception.

Wren's mode of operation is detailed by his son in his 'Parentalia.' He says, that after his appointment as surveyor-general and principal architect for rebuilding the city, he immediately took an exact survey of the whole area and confines of the burning, having traced over with great trouble and hazard the great plain of ashes and ruins; and designed a plan or model of a new city, in which the deformity and inconveniences of the old town were remedied, by the enlarging the streets and lanes, and carrying them as near parallel to one another as might be; avoiding, if compatible with greater conveniences, all acute angles; by seating all the parochial churches conspicuous and insular; by forming the most public places into large piazzas, the centre of six or eight ways; by uniting the halls of the twelve chief companies into one regular square annexed to Guildhall; by making a quay on the whole bank of the river from Blackfriars to the Tower.' In his clear-sighted plans and useful improvements he designed the streets to be of three magnitudes; the three principal leading straight through the City and one or two cross streets to be at least ninety feet wide; others sixty feet; and lanes about thirty feet, excluding all narrow dark alleys without thoroughfares or courts.' An examination of his plan (engraved in p. 354) will make these improvements apparent, and show

St. Dunstan's Church to Tower Hill, there to terminate in a piazza; this, besides its magnificence, would have ensured a world of air and health to the citizens; he intended this to open into a circular piazza on its way, the centre of eight streets, leaving Ludgate prison on the left side, where, instead of the gate, he designed a triumphal arch to the renovator of London, Charles II. The street was then to divide into two other streets as large, and before they, spreading at acute angles, could have been clear, one of the other, he intended them to form a triangular piazza, the basis of which would be filled by the Cathedral Church of St. Paul's. How glorious this picture! The magnificent structure would not have been cribbed up by closefitting gaudy shops; and the proposed piazza would have given a majesty to the immediate neighbourhood in keeping with the cathedral; though, perhaps, piazzas can never be generally adopted in England with advantage. If they shelter from rain they darken the houses; and an Englishman connects some Italian idea with them; something of 'lurking' and hiding, and 'secret stabbing;' and indeed the more broad and wide and expanded streets are, the better still there they would have formed a noble base to

how much London has lost by not adopting Wren's views; they were opposed by the vested interests of the citizens, which then, as now, deprecated all changes even for evident advantages. They had insurmountable prejudices in favour of rebuilding in old localities and in old styles, and hence he lost the opportunity of his wish to render London' the most magnificent as well as commodious city for health and trade of any upon earth.' A glance at his plan will show how well he had laid out main streets, and studied the proper position of public buildings, with an eye as well to utility as to architectural effect. A shows the position of St. Paul's, which would have been the first grand object that claimed attention when the western side of the city was entered; at B is Doctors' Commons, in close and proper proximity. The letter C refers to the piazzas with which Wren intended to ornament London, where the principal streets met. At D we have the principal buildings sacred to trade and commerce; E is the Post Office; F, the Excise office; G, Insurance office; H, the Mint; while at I are the Goldsmiths' shops. K shows the position of Guildhall; L that of the Custom House. At M are the public markets; N, the Strand entrance to the City; O, is Smithfield; P, the Temple; Qa Quay along the entire bank of the Thames; R is the débouchement of the Fleet river at Bridewell; S, Queenhithe ; T, Dowgate; U, London Bridge; and V Billingsgate. W shows the position of the Tower; X, that of Moorfields; and Y, the circuit of the City Walls. The small black blocks, which are isolated, represent churches which he had intended to place in prominent positions in the main thoroughfares, but always free of the houses. It is only necessary further to remark, that that portion of our plan which is covered by lines of tint, represents that part of London which was destroyed by the Great Fire.

A A

the mighty pyramid. It was a fine idea of his also to make his highway to

the Tower, adorned with parochial churches; setting before the people

Wren's Plan for re-building London.

continually their Christian temples in the best situations, thus reminding them of their highest duties.

We can, without difficulty, imagine the magnificent appearance of our river, if he had been permitted to carry his quay along the whole bank of the Thames, from Blackfriars to the Tower, a canal being cut at Bridewell, with sluices at Holborn Bridge and at the mouth, and stores for coal at either side. What metropolitan magnificence would have arisen, had he erected twelve halls for the twelve chief companies, united into a regular square, annexed to Guildhall? He desired to banish trades that use great fires and create noisome smells, and all burying-grounds, out of the city. Our modern cemeteries are but the working out of one of his projects! Yet, necessary and useful as they are, we should be sorry to be buried in one of those dead highways; we would rather repose quietly in a sheltered nook of an old churchyard, where the shadows of the trees we saw planted should fall upon our green-grass grave, while the voices of those we have loved, and who have loved us, echo above it.

It is evident to all who contemplate the plan of Sir Christopher Wren's renovation, that St. Paul's was the sun of his system; he would have ranged his planets and their satellites around it. His mind was as harmonious as the movements of the heavenly bodies; and the more we thought upon, the more we felt the sublimity of his conceptions. It is with a feeling of extreme diffidence that we object to his fondness for arcades, which, except as a sort of amphitheatre for St. Paul's churchyard, are, for the reasons we have mentioned, unsuited to our climate. But we cannot feel the objection which some have stated to his plan, on the ground of sameness and uniformity. Darmstadt, Carlsruhe, and Manheim, those uniform Continental cities, are dull enough, not from their uniformity, but from the absence of that moving world which is the variety of London.

Sir Richard Steele justly observed with reference both to Wren and the great fire, that That which produced so much individual misery afforded

The dome of St. Paul's rises above his grave, a noble monument; but there ought to be another. There has been published a tribute to his memory-a pictured representation of the workings of his mind, beautifully grouped, by Mr. Cockerell. This fine representation of British architecture sets forth no less than sixty-two of Sir Christopher's buildings, the principal number being churches.