Cabs are unlimited, and Hansom-cabs, so named from their inventor. Omnibuses, only introduced from Paris in 1830, now run in every direction, and transport those who are not above using them, for immense distances and very small fares. More expensive, and more disagreeable, but still very convenient for those who are in a hurry, is the underground Metropolitan Railway, which makes a circle round London from Cannon Street (the "Mansion House ") to Aldgate, with stations at all the principal points upon the

way.

A pleasant way of learning one's London, as of seeing Rome, is to follow some consecutive guiding thread, such as the life of a particular person, and seeing what it shows us. The life of Milton, for example, would lead from his birthplace in Bread Street and his school at St. Paul's, to the sites of his houses in St. Bride's Churchyard, Holborn, Spring Gardens, Scotland Yard, Petty France, Bartholomew Close, and Jewin Street, and so by the place of his death in Bunhill Fields to his grave at St. Giles's, Cripplegate.

No one can consider the subject without regretting that no official care-taker is appointed for the historical memorials of London, without whose consent the house of Milton in Petty France could not have been swept away, and whose influence might be exerted to save at least the picturesque tower of the church which commemorates his baptism, with Dryden's inscription; who might have interposed to save the Tabard Inn, and have prevented the unnecessary destruction of St. Antholin's Tower: who, when a time-honoured burial-ground is turned into a recreation-ground, might suggest that, as in France, advantage

should be taken of all the sinuosities and irregularities which gave the place its picturesqueness, instead of levelling them, and overlaying them with yellow gravel and imitation rockwork, ruthlessly tearing up tombstones from the graves to which they belong, and planting paltry flowers and stunted. evergreens in their place, as in the historic though now ruined burial-ground of St. Pancras. "Les Monuments sont les crampons qui unissent une génération à une autre ; conservez ce qu'ont vu vos pères," is well said by Joubert in his "Pensées."

Dwellers in the West End never cease to regret the need of the street scavengers, who in even the smaller towns of France and Germany would be employed daily to gather up and carry away the endless litter of orange-peel and paper which is allowed to lie neglected for months, hopelessly vulgarising the grass and flowers of London parks and squares,—a small but contemptible disgrace to our city, which is much commented upon by foreigners.

Another point which greatly requires a competent and well-informed supervision is the nomenclature of the streets. Almost all the older blocks of houses have possessed an inmate or seen an event they might commemorate, and new streets are usually built on land connected with something which might give them a name; so that it is simply contemptible that there should be 95 streets in London called King; 99 Queen; 78 Princes; 109 George; 119 John; 91 Charles; 87 James; 58 Thomas; 47 Henry; 54 Alfred; 88 William; 57 Elizabeth; 151 Church; 69 Chapel; 129 Union; 166 New; 90 North and South; 50 East and West; 127 York; 87 Gloucester; 56 Cambridge; 76 Brunswick; 70 Devonshire; 60 Norfolk; 50 Richmond, &c.

The Artist in London will find much less difficulty than he anticipates in sketching in the streets, as people are generally too busy to stop to look at him. But, if accustomed to the facilities and liberality met with in Continental cities, he will be quite wearied out with the petty obstacles thrown in his way by every one who can make an obstacle to throw. From the Benchers of the Temple to the humblest churchwarden, each official demands to the utmost, orders signed and countersigned, so that no jot of the little meed of homage to their individual self-importance can by any possibility be overlooked.

There are many who, amid the fatigues of society, might find the utmost refreshment of mind and body in mornings spent amid the tombs at Westminster; the pictures of the City Companies, the Learned Societies or the great houses of the West End; but most of all in rambles through the ancient bye-ways of the City. There are many more, especially young men, for whom time in London hangs very heavy, and to whom the perpetual lounge in the Park must end by becoming wearisome and monotonous, and for these a new mine of interest and pleasure is only waiting to be worked. If they will take even the Walks indicated in these volumes, they can scarcely fail to end them by agreeing with Dr. Johnson that "he who is tired of London is tired of existence." To them especially the author would say, in the words of Shakspeare—

"I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes

With the memorials, and the things of fame,
That do renown this city."

:

CHAPTER I.

THE STRAND.

DR. JOHNSON said, "I think the full tide of existence

is at Charing Cross." It is the first point which meets the eyes of the traveller on arriving from the Continent, and it may well be taken as a centre in an explanation of London.

In 1266 a village on this site was spoken of as Cherringe, where William of Radnor, Bishop of Landaff, asked permission of Henry III. to take up his abode in a hermitage during his visits to London. This earlier mention of the name unfortunately renders it impossible to derive it, as has been often done, from La Chère Reine, Eleanor, wife of Edward I., " mulier pia, modesta, misericors, Anglicorum omnium amatrix," to whom her husband erected here the last of the nine crosses which marked the resting-places of the beloved corpse in 1291 on its way from Lincoln to Westminster. More probably the name is derived from the Saxon word Charan, to turn, both the road and river making a bend here. The other crosses in memory of Eleanor were at Lincoln, Northampton, Stoney Stratford, Woburn, Dunstable, St. Albans, Waltham, and Cheap; and

of these only those of Northampton and Waltham remain. That of Charing was the most magnificent of all: it was designed by Richard and Roger de Coverdale, with figures by Alexander of Abingdon. The modern cross erected in front of Charing Cross Railway Station is intended as a reproduction of it. The old cross was pulled down in 1647 by the Puritans, amid great lamentations from the opposite party.

"Methinks the common-council should

Of it have taken pity,

'Cause good old Cross, it always stood
So firmly to the City.

Since crosses you so much disdain,
Faith, if I were as you,

For fear the king should rule again,

I'd pull down Tyburn too."

The Dounefall of Charing Cross.

66

The site of the cross was the spot chosen in 1660 for the execution of the Regicides. Hither (October 13) Major-General Thomas Harrison was brought to the gallows in a sledge, "with a sweet smiling countenance," saying that he was going to suffer for "the most glorious cause that ever was in the world." As he was about to die," having his face towards the Banqueting House at Whitehall," one, in derision, called to him, and said, 'Where is your good old cause?' He, with a cheerful smile, clapt his hand on his breast, and said, 'Here it is, and I am going to seal it with my blood."" Three days after, Hugh Peters, who had preached against Charles I. at St. Margaret's as "the great Barabbas at Windsor," with Cook the republican counsel, suffered on the same spot, and afterwards eight other of the regicides. Here, where his murderers had