found in a wretched garret, and recommended by him to Charles I. Here, at a grocer's shop kept by his friend Strudwick, died, August 12, 1688, Bunyan, the author of "The Pilgrim's Progress" a circumstance quite sufficient to make the place hallowed ground. Truly there is scarcely a foot of earth within the City precincts which has not some noble or touching memory. Cellar, garret, dingy chamber, narrow shop, blind alley, and dirty lane-each has its own family of recollections, all interesting because they appeal to our "business and bosoms;" richly suggestive, too, in whatever direction we turn, of stirring incidents and exhausting strugglessevere sufferings and unlooked-for triumphs, all having a charm for us, because it was men like ourselves who were the agents. I have heard London nicknamed a commonplace city! No Englishman can think so, for, if he did, the stones in the streets would rebuke him.

193

THE CHURCH OF ST. STEPHEN,
WALBROOK.

THIS very beautiful church, Wren's masterpiece, stands at the back of the Mansion House, where two churches with the same name formerly stood. The first, built in 1202, was placed, according to Dugdale, on the west side of the 'brook," from which we gather that at that period, and for ages afterwards, a rivulet, called from the locality "Wall Brook," actually meandered, and probably through pasture land. The second was erected in 1428, on the east side, when, from the report of the "Chronicles," the houses began to grow thicker, and the commerce of the City was rapidly encroaching on the green fields. This building was destroyed in the great fire of 1666, when so many of the metropolitan sanctuaries were burnt; and a noble opportunity presented for the genius of Wren to exert itself. Even at this distant period we may reasonably lament that the architect's wonderful plan for rebuilding London was not carried out, which would have given us, instead of the perplexing crowd of narrow lanes and inconvenient streets in which our citizens still trade, a grand system of wide highways and ample squares, unequalled by any capital in Christendom. The plan, which may still be consulted in the "Parentalia," provided that on the ashes of the metropolis a series of streets, each one

hundred feet wide and of great length, starting from and terminating in a vast quadrangle specially dedicated as the sites of public buildings, should arise, and that in the centre the Cathedral of St. Paul should be placed, left open to the river, and with an approach on all sides of great magnificence. Sad it was that the busy cits of that age could not tarry for the maturing of this wonderful work; each man began to build in his own fashion, while the embers of London yet smoked, and the result is patent in the ugly and often dangerous thoroughfares. We are still compelled to wait a spirit of improvement, slowly exerted on these untoward elements, which during the last fifty years has done much to ameliorate the evil, but the change goes on so tardily that it takes a generation for the completion of each really efficient new street. In 1579, the Church of St. Stephen was completed from the designs of Sir Christopher, whose services were secured at a salary of £100 per annum, with the additional complement to the architect of a hogshead of claret, and twenty guineas to his lady. Mr. Timbs, in his "London," writes: "The interior is one of Wren's finest works, with its exquisitely proportioned Corinthian columns, and great central dome, resting upon a circle of light arches springing from column to column; its enriched composite cornice, the shields of the spandrels, and the palm branches and rosettes of the dome coffers are very beautiful, and as you enter from the dark vestibule, a halo of dazzling light flashes upon the eye through the central aperture of the cupola." All the panelling and fittings are of oak: the altar-screen, organcase, and gallery are elaborately carved-the Grocers' arms enjoying due prominence, they being the patrons of the living, alternately with the Lord Chancellor. The enriched pulpit, with festoons of fruits, flowers, and angels bearing wreaths, deserves notice. Indeed here, as in some other comparatively modern ecclesiastical structures, we find

examples of wood carving vastly superior to the ordinary work of our own times. For many years previous to 1850, the church fell into a disgraceful condition from the neglect of the authorities. Alderman Gibbs, the churchwarden, during these deplorable differences, became obnoxious to the parishioners-either they would not pay the rates, or from legal difficulties he forbore to enforce them. He was able to prove in a court of law that his motives were perfectly fair, and uninfluenced by private interests; but from whatever cause it arose, the neglect was destructive to the church, and led to the utter extinction of the Walbrook school. The organ fell into disrepair, the organist could get no salary, the roof became unsound, and during heavy rain the water found its way through the roof. Divine service, if performed at all, was hurried through almost profanely, and the rector's stipend grew deplorably short.

The public spirit of a few inhabitants of the district, after a long and costly struggle, at length obtained redress for these grievances. The church was entirely re-edified, and is now in a very creditable state; a painting of West's -the Martyrdom of St. Stephen-presented in 1799, by Dr. Wilson, the rector, and allowed, most objectionably, to block up the ancient altar window, was removed to the north wall; perhaps no loss would have been sustained had its removal proved absolute. The composition is indifferent, the story poorly told, and the details feeble in the extreme; yet this painting was once considered a "splendid" work of "high art." The stained glass (a gift of the Grocers' Company) is highly interesting, though grotesque; the colouring effective, and the saint's history suggestively if not powerfully given, though it would have better suited a Gothic building. I visited this church some time ago, and was deeply impressed by its novel style of architecture. Some critics think the roof was Wren's attempt "to set up a dome-a comparative imitation of the

Pantheon at Rome," and it was, doubtless, a sort of probationary trial previous to his gigantic operations on the cupola of St. Paul. Gwilt says, "Compared with any other church of nearly the same magnitude, Italy cannot exhibit its equal; and its rival is not to be found else. where. Had its material and volume been as durable and extensive as those of the Cathedral, Sir Christopher Wren had consummated in St. Stephen's Church a much more efficient monument to his well-earned fame than that fabric affords." We think this praise overdone. Certainly the proportions of the structure are perfect the columns marvellously light-the dome a wonderful example of beauty and strength. The absence of galleries, too, allows the church to be seen without any detracting influences ; but when we measure it with the "vast Cathedral," bare and unfinished as the interior is, the enormous pile swells into such sublimity that we feel the comparison to be almost absurd.

On a stone in the wall of a house adjoining to Pancraslane, we may still trace this inscription:-"Before the dreadful fire, anno 1666, here stood the Parish Church of St. Benet Sherehog." Poor St. Benet, when burnt out, was glad to be taken in by St. Stephen; and would not even he feel a mere lodger in one of the lofty aisles of the Cathedral.

The ill-famed vicar of Bray, Pendleton, was once rector of St. Stephen. In the reign of Edward VI., Lawrence Sanders, the martyr, an honest, but mild, timid man, stated to Pendleton his dread that he had not fortitude to endure persecution, and was answered, "that he (Pendleton) would see every drop of his fat, and the last morsel of his flesh consumed to ashes, ere he would swerve from the Protestant faith." We know how he changed with the times, saved his vile carcass, and became rector of Walbrook, while poor, diffident Sanders was burnt in Smithfield.