LON 
the bow of the windows and their"ufual form. It is now 
a public houfe, having for its fign a head of the original 
owner. Sir Paul was early diftinguiftied by that frequent 
caufe of promotion, and indifpenfable accomplilhment for 
a perfect gentleman at that time, a knowledge of lan¬ 
guages, part of which he had acquired before, and part he 
had added during, his travels. He feems to have been 
prompted to lavilh fo much of his fortune upon the metro¬ 
politan church, from the circumftance of his having re¬ 
ceived at his baptifm the name under which the cathedral 
had been dedicated. 
In 1639, the total of the contributions remaining in 
the chamber of London, for the repairs of this venerable 
pile, amounted to 17,1381. 13s. 4$d. and, in 164.3, to 
xoi,33°l. 4-s. Sd. But the troubles and diflenfions which 
foon broke out were the caufe that no more than about 
the third part of that fum was laid out for the intended 
purpofe. The long parliament having aboliflied bilhops, 
deans, and chapters, the cathedral remained in a ruinous 
ftate ; and all the crolfes within and about London and 
Weltminfter were pulled down by order of the fame au¬ 
thority. Thus this beautiful pile lay for many years,, 
in the moft lamentable condition. In the time of Crom¬ 
well’s protectorate, it was made a horfe-quarter for foldiers; 
the ftately portico with Corinthian pillars (fee Plate VI.) 
was converted into fhops for feamftrelfes, coblers, toymen 
and women, and other trades; the fpace from the ground 
being divided by a floor, to ereCt which the columns were 
confiderably mangled and defaced. But (hortly after the 
reftoration of king Charles II. 1662, the fabric was cleanfed, 
and made fit again for divine fervice. 
But the church, thus repaired and beautified, was not 
long to remain. On the 3d of September, 1666, the great 
fire of London laid the whole in allies. It is curious 
enough, that the famous author of French prophecies, Mi¬ 
chael Nollradamus, has the following fianza, in his work 
printed at Lyons in 1556 : 
Le fang du jufte a Londres fera faulte. 
Brides par foudres, de vingt trois les fix. 
La Dame antique cherra de place haute ; 
De mefme feCte plufieurs feront occis. 
Which has given to many lovers of fuch riddles to un¬ 
derhand, that “ it was a judgment of God Almighty upon 
this great city, for its rebellious aCtings againlt the late 
king Charles the martyr, and tamely permitting his open 
and (hameful murder before the gates of his own royal 
palace.”—However, it will always be with us an unra- 
■vellable matter of furprife, that, when the people of London 
faw the rapid progrels which the fire was making from the 
eaft towards the weft, notwithftanding the fiercenefs of 
the flames curling over edifices, and hurried along by the 
eaftern blaft, they never thought of pulling down, or had 
not courage enough to fell at once, a thick mafs of houfes 
between the raging element and that venerable pile 3 it 
feems as if, panic-ttruck, the Londoners fled away, and re¬ 
mained at a diftance, the tranquil though diftrefied fpec- 
tators of the awful event. 
The firft thing defigned, after this deplorable conflagra¬ 
tion, was to fit fome part of the church thus ruined for a 
choir, where divine fervice might be performed, until the 
repair of the whole, or a new fabric, could be accomplifhed. 
The weft end, that feemed to have fuffered leaft from the 
fury of the devouring flames, was feleCted, as it was fup- 
pofed that it might with the leaft expenfe be made ufefuj 
for that purpofe ; but, after feveral experiments upon the 
ftrength of the remaining walls and pillars, the plan was 
found impracticable. It was therefore refolved that the 
relics of the old building (hould be cleared away, and a 
new church built in the lame place. 
The crypt under the church had not fuffered fo mate¬ 
rially from the rage of the fire. It was in length 165 feet, 
upon a breadth of 77 feet, within the walls, which were of 
a great thieknefs, meafuring about eight feet within, and 
five without, the pillars attached to them. It formed a 
DON. 493 
parallelogram, and was fupported by three ranks of mafly 
pillars united in a clufter of fourlarge and four fmaller (hafts, 
with focles, bafes, and plain capitals; the ogee-branches 
and groins fetting off in a grand ftyle. It was a parifla- 
church dedicated to St. Faith the Virgin, and called Eccle- 
fia SanEhz Fidis in cryptis, or in the crowds , according to the 
vulgar expreflion. It contained four chantries, which had 
been moft lavifhly endowed ; befides two guilds, or frater¬ 
nities; one in honour of St. Anne; the other in ho¬ 
nour of Jefus. Several tombs were feen in the crypt ; and 
in the church of St. Faith was the following quaint in- 
fcription ; but upon whofe monument we are notable ex¬ 
actly to afcertain. Stow feems to indicate that they were 
engraven on the tomb of William Lambe 5 
As I was, fo are ye ; 
As I am, ye fhall be. 
That I had, that I gave 5 
That I gave, that I have. 
Thus I end all my colt: 
That I left, that I loft. 
The Chapter-houfe, Handing on the fouth fide of th» 
body of the church, guarded by a ftrong wall, was begun 
anno 1332; the place where it ftood at the deftruCtion 
having been formerly a garden for the ufe of the dean and 
chapter. It was a moft elegant ftruCture; which confi- 
deration has induced us to prefent our fubfcribers with a 
view of its fouth afpeCt, with part of the cloifter furround¬ 
ing it, and the paflage from the fouth tranfept into it. 
This cloifter and paflage were furmounted with a fecond 
ftory. See Plate VII. 
Referring to the engraving, and confidering the ap¬ 
pearance of the eight (hafts rifing above the roof in 
the fame direction with the three pinnacles upon the re- 
fpeftive buttrefles, and cut fliort, like the (talks of fome 
plants, it feems as though the building was not fimfli- 
ed, and as if the original plan and defign were that the 
whole of this miniature yet beautiful fabric (hould have 
been furmounted by a fteeple furrounded moft elegantly 
by eight high-fini(hed pinnacles, (hooting from the fluted 
Items remaining at the time of its deftruCtion. No¬ 
where perhaps more plainly than in this beautiful fpeci- 
men of workmanfiiip does it appear, that the whole prin¬ 
ciple of Gothic, or Norman, or as fome will properly call 
it original Engliih, architecture, is founded upon a clofe 
imitation o( that ltrong and luxuriant vegetation which 
exifts perhaps no-where in a greater perfection than in 
this fertile ifland. A few words will make this-aflertion 
plain to the dullelt underftanding. The bold roofs and 
lofty arches of our ancient cathedrals are copied from the 
green arbours of conventual walks; where, as we have 
often obierved them in feveral church-yards, in the Char- 
ter-houfe garden, and other places, the high branches 
of towering elms or lime-trees meet at top, and vault over 
our heads. Their bold limbs, ftretcbing in parabolic 
curves, gave an idea of ribs and groins. On the outfide, 
and upon buttrefles and pediments, the finely-wrought 
and elegant pinnacles reprefent the fprouts (booting from 
the axilla of leguminous herbage; the clufte-rs and fafces- 
of fmall columns, and their ogees, are found in the chan¬ 
nelled and fluted (talks t the twifted and well-wrapoed 
bloffoms of fome of the worts fwell in the crockets;‘ and 
the quaterfoils and cinquefoils, two favourite (Lanes in. 
Gothic architecture, have their origin in the flowers thar 
fpangle the kitchen-garden. The (pear-like endings of- 
railings and cornices were borrowed from the leaf of fpi- 
nach, and the ivy and vine yielded their pliant and fan- 
taftic foliage to bind the head of (lender columns united 
in clutters,, or girdle the waift of Gothic capitals. 
Every body knows that the monks were, in this coun¬ 
try as well as on the continent, the architects of their own 
churches; and that moft of the beautiful piles which are 
frill the admiration of the w'orld, were conceived and 
planned by their facerdotal (kill, and rofe from under their 
cenobitic hands. The meditating religious, penfivdy 
walking 
