systems, since the revival of arts and learning, that now, in the nineteenth century, we are fain to go back (in that direction of the architectural compass) to those systems; nay, we seem not content to stop short with the Roman school, but, as if the very suspicion of adulteration was enough to repel us, go on to the ultimate point from which we started. And what but the same kind of movement is taking place still more energetically with the Gothic, which lay for the same period, under an infinitely deeper cloud? It was not simply misunderstood by professing admirers; on the contrary, there were scarcely any who thought it worthy of admiration. The re-action of this sentiment must be remembered, when we look at the many, and ambitious works that have been erected in this style of late years. But after all allowance on this score, some of these buildings present satisfactory evidences of an approach towards a right appreciation on the parts of their architects, of the principles of the wonderful buildings they have taken for their model. There has been but one truly dark age in England for architecture, and that is the period we have just emerged from :-emerged at least, if the experience of that period with regard to the improvements upon the Roman and Grecian styles, be not thrown away upon the improvers or adapters of this with regard to the pointed. The best security against this danger will be the general diffusion among the people as well as among architects, of that appreciation we have referred to. We have reason, therefore, to congratulate ourselves upon the circumstance that so many new churches in the Gothic style have been recently built, as offering increased facilities for the study of the latter, and still more, that in the principal of these, purity rather than originality has been the architect's grand aim. Let us but thoroughly understand and enjoy that or any other style, and we may then safely attempt to advance whenever the right men are prepared to lead the way. Foremost among the structures calculated to forward these views, stands that which was also earliest in point of time in the present revival of pointed architecture in the metropolis-we allude to the New Church at Stepney, erected about 1822 by Mr. Walters, in an exceedingly chaste and beautiful style. This was followed by the still more magnificent structure at Chelsea, St. Luke's, by Mr. Savage, with a tower at the west end 142 feet in height: this building was finished in 1824, or in the same year as that just object of universal ridicule, the church of All Souls, with its circular advanced tower, and cone spire, in Langham Place: a noticeable contrast. St. Katherine's, Regent's Park, consists of two portions, the buildings for residence, which are in the old English domestic style, and the chapel, which is pointed; the whole however harmonise, and at the same time express very happily the character of the pile as the home of a once religious community. St. Katherine's forms a remarkable exception to the rule for the dissolution of religious houses; a good fortune which it seems to have derived from its having been first founded by a Queen, Matilda, wife of Stephen, and then refounded by Elinor, widow of Henry III., who made it an especial appanage to the Queens of England. Philippa, wife of Edward, was also a great benefactress, as we are reminded by the excellent carvings of her head and the King's, still preserved with the ancient stalls they decorate, and the very curious old pulpit, in the chapel. There was formerly a Guild attached to St. Katherine's, dedicated to St. Barbara, of which great numbers of eminent persons were members; from Henry VIII. and his wife downwards. In the Hospital itself,

Verstegan, the author of the Restitution of Decayed Antiquities,' was born, and Raymond Lully wrote his Testamentum Novissimum. Many distinguished persons were also buried in the old church or precincts. The only monument that remains is the Duke of Exeter's, 1447, with the effigies of that nobleman and his two wives; an interesting specimen of ancient monumental sculpture. In connexion with this memorial Mr. Brayley mentions a very disgraceful circumstance that occurred in the pulling down of the old church of St. Katherine (for the erection of the docks to which it has given name); the tomb was opened and the remains dispersed; the head, it appears, passed into the possession of the docksurveyor. The establishment now consists, we believe, of a master, three brothers, three sisters, ten bedeswomen, a registrar, high bailiff, &c. Several other modern Gothic buildings deserve especial mention, which our space compels us to pass by; of two of these we give engravings, namely, St. Peter's, Bankside, 1840, here shown, and St. Mary's, Southwark, 1842, placed at the beginning of our number.

St. Dunstan's in the West demands a few additional words, if it be only for its past fame. Who does not remember its clock, and the clubmen who struck the hours and quarters on the bell suspended between them, and the eternal crowd of gazers on the opposite side of the street, waiting for the moment of action? Yet not all their popularity saved them from being turned off with contumely at last; fortunately there was one man of taste to appreciate them, though that man were the late Marquis of Hertford, to whose villa in Regent's Park, we believe, they were removed. Old St. Dunstan's had a kind of literary reputation also; Mr. Brayley in his Londiniana,' gives us the title-pages of certain books, published about the beginning of the seventeenth century, as Epigrams by H. P,' News from Italy of a Second Moses,' the Blazon of Jealousy,' &c.,

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which show that at least four different booksellers had shops in the churchyard, one of them "under the dial." The church was rebuilt about 1833, from the designs of Mr. Shaw, the architect of Christ's Hospital, who died, as we learn from a tablet over the entrance, on the 12th day after its completion. It must have been a satisfaction, even in the dying hour, to feel that such a work was completed. The tower, 130 feet high, is an exceedingly picturesque composi tion, and the interior is no less distinguished for its general elegance of style and richness of decoration. That the latest in point of time of the modern Gothic structures of London, which is in fact unfinished-we allude to Christ Church, Westminster-should also promise to be the most beautiful, may be received, we hope, as a sign of the progress we are making in the grandest of the arts in its grandest form.

[Christ Church, Westminster.]

WITHOUT flattery, the Horse Guards may be said to be one of the ugliest buildings in her Majesty's service. Barracks are rarely considered models of architectural beauty; and it is questionable whether any barracks in the three kingdomseven the monstrosity which disfigures Edinburgh Castle-can equal in ugliness the Horse Guards. The National Gallery may be admitted to hold rivalry in this respect with the Offices of Secretary at War and Commander-in-Chief; but as it was built by a British Academician, for British Academicians, what else could be expected?

The Horse Guards-that is, the building so called in familiar conversationwas built about the middle of last century by Vardy, after a design by Kent. That was a time when people in this country appear to have had a vague notion that there was a thing called architecture which was admired by those who understood it; that Italian architecture, in particular, was highly esteemed; and that in Italian architecture there were pavilions and cupolas, basements, and what not. Such an age of ignorance and imbecility was precisely the one in which a bad copier of indifferent prints, like Kent, might pass himself off for an architect, and his copies for architectural designs. In justice to Vardy, it ought to be remarked that his mason-work is well enough. But as for the architectural pretensions of the Horse Guards, the moss-grown buttresses of the Treasury look like a Melrose Abbey beside it; the Admiralty (bating the screen) and the Pay

VOL. V.

P

Office are mere houses, and pretend to be nothing more, so do not offend; and even the pseudo-Hellenism of the Board of Trade looks respectable beside it. How ashamed Whitehall must feel of its neighbours!

After all, the Horse Guards is but a shell: it is what is going on within it, and the anxious hopes and fears of which it is the centre, and the wonder-working orders that have in times past issued from it, that make us pause to regard it.

Not but that there are attractions here for the most unreflecting sight-seer. Those two seemly troopers on their powerful chargers, who, with burnished cuirass and carbine on knee, sit motionless as statues in the niches of the two overgrown sentry boxes for two hours on a stretch (they commence those sittings at ten A.M., and are relieved every two hours, until four P.M., when their sentry duties terminate for the day), are figures that can scarcely be passed without attracting a glance of admiration. And there is generally a numerous collection of blackguard boys, members of parliament, crossings-sweepers and out-of-office cabmen, occupants of stools in government offices, and orangewomen-in short, of all the professional frequenters of this part of the town— collected to watch the rather striking ceremony of changing guard. The folding doors, in the rear of the stone sentry boxes aforesaid, are thrown open, two cuirassed and helmeted heroes, on sleek snorting steeds that might bear a man through a summer-day's tourney or through a red field of battle without flagging, ride in, and, upon the philosophical principle that no two bodies can co-exist in the same space, push the living statues already there out in front, who, each describing a semicircle, meet and ride side by side through the central gate, and so back to their stables.

This Guard is part of the Queen's Guard, more especially so called from being mounted within the precincts of the palace. The movements of the Queen's Guard of the Household Brigade of Cavalry are regulated nominally by the "Gold Stick in Waiting" (that is to say, by one of the Colonels of the two regiments of Life Guards and of the " Blues "), but virtually by their Lieutenant Colonel, who is technically termed the "Silver Stick in Waiting," and who, as well as the Gold Stick, is relieved every alternate month. The movements of the Queen's Guard, belonging to the Household Infantry, are under the superintendence of the "Field Officer in Waiting," who is always on duty at the Horse Guards. He also is on duty for a month, and relieved by the next of equal rank in order on the roll, which commences with the Grenadiers.

The barracks in London where the Foot Guards are stationed are:-The Wellington Barracks, in the Bird-cage Walk; the Portman Street Barracks, in Portman Street; the St. George's Barracks, Trafalgar Square; St. John's Wood Barracks; Kensington Barracks (a small detachment); and a battalion in the Tower. The cavalry barracks are at Knightsbridge and the Regent's Park. All orders concerning all the Guards in London are given out by the field-officer on duty at the Horse Guards. For example, should any of them be wanted on an emergency, the Commander-in-Chief communicates with him, and he arranges what regiment is to supply the detachment required. Of course, he makes his election in the order of the roster.

The Guard commonly called the Queen's (or King's) Guard are-1st. One Captain, one Lieutenant, and one Ensign at the Palace of St. James's, which