London, called Erkenwald. He did much to make St. Paul's beautiful and
splendid. {59} And he cared for his people too,--the men, women and
children, who lived scattered about in the wild forests which then lay
round London; and in order that he might visit, help and teach them, he
used to drive in a cart from place to place over rough roads, and often
where there were no roads. He was so good that people said he was a
saint; and so when he died and his body was buried in St. Paul's, his
grave there was greatly honoured,--it was even said that miracles were
worked there. Is it there still? Ah, no; it was destroyed long ago,
as you shall hear presently. Yet London ought not to forget this old
Bishop since it is said that one of her streets is called after him,
for in his days it seems that the old Roman walls had fallen into
ruins, and it is said that Erkenwald built a new city-gate ever since
called, after him, Bishopsgate. If you look at a map which shows the
streets of London, you will find Bishopsgate and Bishopsgate Street
near Liverpool Street Station. This story shows us that Erkenwald was
a good citizen as well as a good Bishop.

The years passed on; the Normans came and conquered England; and now we
have come to real history.

Near the end of William I.'s reign, St. Paul's was burnt down, and the
Bishop of London of that day began to build in its place a cathedral so
grand and large that men thought it would never be finished, "it was to
them so wonderful for height, length, and breadth." Yet little by
little it grew until--but not for more than two hundred and twenty-five
years--it stood complete with its great steeple, {60} the highest in
Europe, towering up 520 feet into the air. This is the Cathedral to
which in later days Queen Elizabeth came to return thanks to God for
the defeat of the Spanish Armada. Here Sir Philip Sidney was buried.
Perhaps you remember that, as he lay dying on a battlefield in the
Netherlands, someone brought him a drink of cold water which seemed to
him the most delicious thing in all the world, so thirsty was he
because of his wounds. Then he saw a poor soldier looking at it with
longing eyes, and he would not drink it, "for," he said, "his need is
greater than mine; give it to him."

In the days of Oliver Cromwell the poor Cathedral was used as a barrack
for soldiers and as a stable for their horses. There is now in the
British Museum a printed paper ordering the sold