altogether, to make room for the approaches to London. Bridge. Happily, the antiquarian, if not the religious, feeling throughout the country was aroused, and this desecration was spared.

At last the fight in part at least was won; the Lady Chapel and the Choir were to be restored. Mr. Gwilt was again the architect and nobly he did his work. All the designs and supervision of the Lady Chapel were carried out at his own expense.

The principal part of the masonry was executed with a sharp grit stone from the Houghtree Quarries, in the vicinity of Kirkstall Abbey, in Yorkshire, the rest of the facing is made out with surface flints which are found upon many of the high lands in various parts of Surrey. And so under the enthusiastic and loving care of Mr. Gwilt rose again in something of their former beauty, the Choir and Lady Chapel of St. Saviour's. Still the transepts had

to be dealt with and these were restored under the direction of Mr. R. Wallace, a worthy successor to Mr. Gwilt. Groined roofs were added to both of them, and an exquisite circular window designed from that in the ruins of Winchester Palace, which had been lately laid open by a fire on Bankside, was placed in the south transept; in the south was introduced a window of circular tracery, copied from one in Westminster Abbey.

The nave remained for repairs. Its clustered columns had been strapped with iron, and its walls had grown dark with apparent decay. The whole building was considered insecure; its repair was regarded by the parishioners as a frightful expense, and the only result of their deliberations was the removal of the roof by" an order of vestry!" This roof was a noble specimen of the skill of our forefathers. Some of the timbers are said to have been in fine

preservation, and many of the bosses are still preserved in the Lady Chapel.

"Thus," says the "Mirror" for July 20th, 1833, “dismantled and desolate, a splendid ruin, stand the sides and west end of the Nave with its Tudor doorway; the organ has been moved up to form a temporary end to the choir, and thus matters rest in this part of the building." Would they had been allowed to rest, till better times, and a purer taste, and a nobler spirit had revived in Southwark, but alas! it was not to be. Let me continue the quotation from the "Mirror," "The choir and transept are now used for Divine Service, and together have the sublime grandeur of a Cathedral; though description will but ill convey an idea of the four magnificent arches which support the Tower, or the lofty and massive character of the several arches and columns. The unique effect is likewise aided by the substitution of open seats for pews. The cost of this work will be £2,500 (little enough one would think), but the funds we fear are somewhat deficient. Our readers may remember the arduous struggle made for the preservation of this interesting memorial. The cause has been a national one, and its result will be doubtless honourable to the country." Would that I could make these words echo and re-echo again; there is not an Englishman who should not be interested in the restoration of this noble and historical structure!

It was in 1840, that the nave was taken down and the present unsightly structure erected in its stead. I do not care to go into the miserable details. How with such a model before them as the choir, transepts and Lady Chapel, they could ever have fastened on such an excresence, and then left that exquisite restoration silent and desolate, one cannot tell. More than a generation has passed away

since this truly Gothic work was perpetrated; is it too much to hope that the present generation may repair the misdeeds of their fathers?

I have all but finished my story with regard to St. Saviour's, but before I close this chapter let us turn from God's temple of wood and stone to the living temples of His Word. I have spoken of many of the Bishops of Winchester who used this grand old church as their town cathedral. Let us come down to those of our own time. Twenty years ago Bishop Sumner was Bishop of Winchester; and if it be said that he was more of the Peer than the Bishop, that he was not as much seen in the dark places of his diocese as two Bishops since his time have been, we must remember that he belonged to another order of things. But the vast revenues of his diocese he dispensed with princely liberality. A lease, falling in, brought him £30,000, and the whole sum was surrendered to the needs of South London. Sumner Street, named after him, bears witness to his generous co-operation with the Messrs. Pott in giving up part of the land of the Bishopric for the re-building of the Grammar School of St. Saviour's, when the building of the new Borough Market necessitated the erection of the school from the shadow of the old church.

But the grand princely-hearted old man was past his work; the new act, which provided for the retirement of aged bishops, came into being, and Bishop Sumner resigned. And then a revolution began. Bishop Wilberforce had shewn in Oxford what his idea of a bishop and a bishop's work was, and when he was removed to Winchester it was as though the whole diocese was transformed into one body through which nerves ran in every direction, bearing the influence of the organising brain to every part; or it seemed fitted with wires, along which ran the electric

current unceasingly. At once the power, and the personal presence, of the Bishop was not only felt but seen in every part of his vast diocese. In Southwark, particularly, we seemed to realise for the first time what a bishop was. As he himself said. "Where the fight is hottest, there should the leader be.".

But it is not, perhaps, so well known how earnestly he had at heart the restoration of St. Saviour's.

His successor the present Bishop of Winchester carried out the long desired division of the Diocese. It was hoped that Southwark would now have had a Bishop of its own, with St. Saviour's as its Cathedral. But this was not to be, and Southwark became part of the Diocese of Rochester. It would not be becoming to indulge in a panegyric on one still labouring among us. May God in His mercy grant that he may long be spared, and that his grand ideas may be fulfilled and his zeal and good works bear fruit. At any rate we know that the restoration of St. Saviour's to its pristime grandeur of proportion and beauty is his most earnest desire.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE FIRE IN TOOLEY STREET, 1861.

THE PRINCESS OF WALES'S PROGRESS THROUGH THE BOROUGH, 1863.

HE year 1861 was a memorable one for England and its Queen; but before I touch upon that event which

has made the 14th of December so sacred a date, and so strangely memorable for evermore with its threefold anniversary of chequered grief and joy, I cannot omit in my story of Southwark some notice of the great fire in Tooley Street.

It was on Saturday evening, June 22nd, that the news ran through the Borough, of a fire of no ordinary magnitude. As the night drew on the fire increased instead of lessening. Of our own household one had a full view all night long from Billingsgate. Servants and others spent the night on the roof of the house, whilst I betook myself to Southwark Bridge, which, being then a toll-bridge, had a comparatively select crowd of spectators. Of the actual fire itself from the obstruction of the bridges and the bend of the river, much could not be seen, but the glare was terrific. Perhaps the most extraordinary thing was to see the impossible myth of one's nursery days realised by the Thames being literally on fire.

Cotton's Wharf, the one on fire, was filled with jute, fat and grease of various kinds, and every sort of inflammable material. Rivers of burning fat ran over the water, and one saw not merely the golden reflection of the fire, but streams of fire itself blazing up from the water to the sky. Boats with adventurous lads danced like dark specks on the water, to be suddenly enveloped by rings of flame, and the boys in peril of their lives from the rival elements were rescued by others who ran as great danger whilst endeavouring to save them.

One curious episode of interest was caused by a barque in dock, which the water was not sufficiently high to float. Again and again the rigging caught fire, again and again it was extinguished by anxious watchers, it was for a time a race between fire and water, and much fear was there lest