of the architecture of Greece), and how much to its intrinsic merits, is not however now so easy a question to decide as it once seemed. We have already learnt to feel the entire unfitness of its arched windows and doors, for the position they occupy; and still more, the discordance between the portico and the building to which it is attached. Could it be possible to devise windows either less beautiful in themselves, or more preposterously unfit for the exquisitely elegant columns and pilasters, so lavishly bestowed over the whole edifice, than those we see here, stretching along each side their double lines of ugliness? The steeple again, though exceedingly stately and elegant in its form, harmonises little better with the classical portico; and in the opinion of architects has another serious fault—instead of rising directly from the ground, it appears elevated above the roof. The interior presents an arched roof, supported by Corinthian columns, and in its general effect may deserve the commendation bestowed upon it, as "a perfect picture of architectural beauty," but if you examine the details with a more critical eye, you are reminded in every direction of Walpole's severer judgment," In all is wanting that harmonious simplicity that speaks a genius." Columns are cut by galleries which appear to have helped the artist out of a difficulty by consenting to stand without support, the entablature is broken into bits, and the very profusion of decoration on the ceiling becomes an error, if you contrast it with the neighbouring parts that seem, in their comparative nakedness, to have been sacrificed in consequence. Although a very ancient foundation, and the parent of three or four others, St. Martin's has no particular features of interest in its earlier history; of the later, the most noticeable is the list of notorious or eminent persons buried within its precincts. The frail, but warmhearted Nell Gwynn, is among the number, who left the ringers a sum of money for their weekly entertainment. In the vaults under the church lies Mrs. Centlivre, the dramatic writer, and in the churchyard Roubiliac, the great sculptor, who died in 1762, and whose funeral was attended by Hogarth and Reynolds. C. Dibdin was interred in the burial ground belonging to this church, at Camden Town; a man who, had he rendered a tithe of the services actually performed by him to the naval strength of his country, under the name of a captain instead of that of a writer, would have died a wealthy peer, but, as it was, drew his last breath in poverty. Hawksmoor commenced operations about the same time as Gibbs, and with his best work, St. Mary Woolnoth, which was finished in 1719. The exterior exhibits both his faults and excellences: it has something of the heaviness which characterised him and his great associate in various structures (Vanbrugh), but has also the air of magnificence that belongs to both, with something like harmonious simplicity of decoration. The interior is sumptuously beautiful, though injured, as may be seen in our view, by the pews; the galleries also interfere with the classical simplicity and harmony of the plan. If the Italian-Roman school in England had advanced from works like this, instead of steadily retreating as if alarmed at its own success, we should have had possibly a very different fate to record in connection with it in these pages. But when Hawksmoor himself set the example, what else was to be expected of the herd who were to follow? * Allan Cunningham. His next church, St. Anne's, Limehouse, finished in 1824, presents all his worst qualities with scarcely any of his best; take away the indescribable circular porch, and the massive tower, with the equally indescribable collection of small obelisks placed by him upon the top, and the whole might be aptly designated by the word prison. The interior, on the contrary, is very splendid as regards the amount of decoration, but still worse in style from the confusion of the orders there used. If the architect had intended the minister occasionally to give his congregation a lesson on architecture, we could understand the propriety of the examples of composite columns, Ionic and Corinthian pillars, and Tuscan arches scattered about; as it is, we can but wonder that St. Anne's, Limehouse, and St. Mary Woolnoth, are by the same man. His next work, St. George's Church, was in the same neighbourhood, and, we suppose, suffered from the same influences, whether of locality or otherwise; of this we can only say that the most effective idea about it is the octagonal lantern on the top of the tower, which is surrounded by a series of square pillars, with round tops, presenting the exact appearance of so many cannons levelled against the sky. We must not forget to add one or two of the richest points about the erection of these buildings; so far from treating the commissions with neglect, as might be supposed from the unsatisfactory result, it appears that Hawksmoor was studiously imitating Vanbrugh in his designs for them; and better still, that according to Malcolm, St. George's is the product of the united genius of the two great men, Gibbs and Hawksmoor: the estimate, he says, was given in their names to the Commissioners. And what may it be sup posed was the amount actually expended (which considerably exceeded the estimate)? Why, 18,5571. 3s. 3d., or in rough terms, three thousand pounds more than the most expensive of Wren's churches. In St. George's, Bloomsbury, Hawksmoor made a material addition to his plans. Influenced probably by the admiration excited by Gibbs' portico to St. Martin's, he determined to have one for St. George's, and, as might have reasonably been expected, improved upon it in some points; it displays itself, for instance, better, from the height to which it is raised above the level of the street; though it is considered inferior in point of execution. But what shall be said of the heavy-looking body behind, or of the steeple, which one writer (Walpole) calls a masterpiece of absurdity, whilst others prefer it to any other in the metropolis, on the ground of its originality, picturesque form, and expressiveness? Neither the first quality nor the second can be denied; but if by expression is meant the expression of something finely appropriate, a brief uncoloured description seems to us the best answer to the assertion. Upon the tower, which has an expression of majestic simplicity, rises a range of unattached Corinthian pillars and pediments, extending round the four sides of the steeple, with a kind of double base, ornamented in the lower division with a round hole on each side, and a curious little projecting arch at each angle: above this stage commences a series of steps, gradually narrowing, so as to assume a pyramidal appearance, the lowest of which are ornamented at the corners by lions and unicorns guarding the royal arms (the former with his tail and heels frisking in the air), and which support at the apex, on a short column, a statue, in Roman costume, of George I. Now the only expression apparent here to our eye, is, that the steps do certainly answer in one way the not unnatural query of how the King got to so uncommon and unaccountable a position. The other architects of the period in question, who rose into reputation or notice by their churches, are James, Archer, and Flitcroft. To the first we owe the aristocratic church of the most aristocratical of parishes, St. George's, Hanover Square, completed in 1724, or two years before St. Martin's; a circumstance of some importance, when we consider that its portico is considered to be only surpassed by that of the church referred to. As to the interior, not only are all the orders there, but more we fear than either an antique Roman or Greek would be willing to recognise. It is, indeed, but too evident, that, with all the architects we have mentioned, in all their works, St. Mary Woolnoth_alone excepted, they have been excellent in the exact proportion in which they have been least original: their porticoes have chiefly made the fame of Gibbs, Hawksmoor, and James, which, at the best, we now learn from the highest authorities, are, in all their beauty, but imperfect imitations of their respective originals.* St. Luke's, Old Street, with its fluted obelisk for a spire, is another of James' works, erected in 1732. Archer's well-known production is St. John's church, Westminster, finished in 1728; and which, if it were possible to designate by any single phrase, it must be some such as-Architecture run mad. If one could imagine a collection of all the ordinary materials of a church in the last century, with an extraordinary profusion of decoration, of porticoes, and of towers, to have suddenly dropt down * Mr. Gwilt, for instance, expressly says thus of St. Martin's, whilst acknowledging it to be the best we have. from the skies, and, by some freak of Nature, to have fallen into a kind of order and harmony and fantastic grandeur,—the four towers at the angles, the porticoes at the ends and in the front,-it would give no very exaggerated idea of St. John's. Vanbrugh, says Pennant, had the discredit of the pile. There is something refreshing in turning from such a specimen of originality to the soberer form and unpretending style of St. Giles in the Fields, with its tall and graceful spire. It is curious that this edifice, which has given to Flitcroft his reputation, should be attributed, in the Report of the Church Commissioners to the House of Commons, to Hawksmoor, who, they say, expended 86051. 7s. 2d. upon it; but there is no doubt but Walpole, and the View, published in 1753, are correct in ascribing it to Flitcroft, who was probably employed by Gibbs, and not by the Commissioners. The interior has an arched ceiling, supported by Ionic pillars, and is more than usually chaste and beautiful. The Resurrection Gate,' as the entrance at one corner of the churchyard is called, from the representation of that event seen on its upper portion, is of older date than the church, having been executed about 1687. The old church, to which it was then an adjunct, had in former times many rich monuments; one, to Sir Roger L'Estrange, the well-known loyalist and writer, still remains. During the civil war Sir Roger had some narrow escapes: once he was condemned to be shot as a spy, but managed to get away from his place of confinement. Inconsistency in political writers is a spectacle we are not altogether unfamiliar with in our own times, but this worthy Knight has given us one of the oddest instances of the kind perhaps on record. After the Restoration he published a newspaper, called the 'Public Intelligencer,' in the very first number of which he thus explains his views of the nature of the agency he was setting on foot:-"I think," says he "it makes the multitude too familiar with the actions and counsels of their superiors, too pragmatical and censorious, and gives them not only an itch but a kind of colourable right and license to be meddling with their government;" therefore our acute logician hastens to give the multitude a fresh opportunity. A more distinguished sharer in the turbulent but sublime war of principles that has made the seventeenth century for ever memorable, Andrew Marvel, was also interred here—a man, in whose reputation the glory of the patriot has eclipsed the fine powers of the poet. St. Giles also preserves the ashes of a truly great poet, Chapman, the translator of Homer, as well as the author of an immense amount of original writings. One of the most curious things, perhaps, in the unwritten history of poets' opinions of each other, is Cowper's of Chapman. He had never seen the older poet's version till his own was far advanced, and, when he did see it, spoke of it with supreme contempt! This is entertaining enough now, when Chapman's version has become almost universally recognised as that which alone gives us the true spirit and flavour of the blind old bard. But what a world of masterly epithets (Pope took care to borrow or imitate some of the best), of exquisite lines and passages, are there in Chapman in addition! In that point, as well as in the other, Cowper's translation will not bear the comparison. Here is one line of the numberless lines that, once heard, there is no forgetting afterwards "And when the Lady of the light, the rosy-fingered Morn : in which poetry and music are truly and indissolubly married.' Another of the illustrious has yet to be mentioned in connection with St. Giles, an artist whose works have raised him to the very highest pinnacle of European fame as a sculptor-a man whose life was but a counterpart of his works: each illustrating each. Flaxman was buried here on the 15th of December, 1826, his body accompanied to the grave by the President and Council of the Royal Academy. For once, an inscription speaks simple truth: we read here," John Flaxman, R.A., P.S., whose mortal life was a constant preparation for a blessed immortality his angelic spirit returned to the Divine Giver on the 7th of December, 1826, in the seventy-second year of his age." There is a peculiarly interesting circumstance connected with his death, told by Allan Cunningham, in his Lives of the British Sculptors,'* which we cannot resist the temptation of transcribing. He says, "The winter had set in, and, as he was never a very early mover, a stranger found him rising one morning when he called about nine o'clock. Sir,' said the visitant, presenting a book as he spoke, 'this work was sent to me by the author, an Italian artist, to present to you, and at the same time to apologise for its extraordinary dedication. In truth, sir, it was so generally believed throughout Italy that you were dead, that my friend determined to show the world how much he esteemed your genius, and having this book ready for publication, he has inscribed it Al Ombra di Flaxman.' No sooner was the book published than the story of your death was contradicted, and the author, affected by his mistake, which nevertheless he rejoices at, begs you will receive his work and his apology.' Flaxman smiled, and accepted the volume with unaffected modesty, and mentioned the circumstance, as curious, to his own family and some of his friends." This occurred on Saturday, the 2nd of December, when he was well and cheerful; the next day he was taken suddenly ill with cold, and on the 7th was dead. The ground on which St. Giles's stands was formerly occupied by a hospital, founded by Matilda, wife of Henry I., for lepers; and it was in front of this hospital that Sir John Oldcastle, Lord Cobham, was so savagely burnt, during the reign of Henry V., his early friend. The phrase 'St. Giles's Bowl' will remind many of the custom that formerly prevailed here of giving every malefactor on his way to Tyburn a bowl of ale, as his last worldly draught. As to the host of other churches that arose during the same or a little later period, it were useless to enter into any architectural details. Eternal imitations apparent through eternal attempts at originality are their chief characteristics where the architects had any ambition; where they had not, their churches sank even below contempt, built as they mostly were in a style requiring splendour of decoration and harmonious combinations of form as its essentially redeeming features: qualities that the masters in the school alone could give. So we shall merely notice such of them as present any other features of moment. In St. Botolph's, Bishopsgate Street, the architecture of which, and of an extensive similar class, seems to us best described as of the puffy cherubim with wings order (so favourite a species of decoration is that feature, and so completely does it harmonise, in its way, with all around), lies buried, with a monument preserved from the old church, Sir Peter Paul Pindar, the inhabitant of the neighbouring * Page 359. |