owers, Houses, and
Churches, was like an hideous storme, and the aire all about so hot
and inflam'd that, at the last, one was not able to approach it, so
that they were forc'd to stand still and let the flames burn on, which
they did for neere two miles in length and one in bredth. The clowds
also of smoke were dismall, and reach'd, upon computation, neer
fifty-six miles in length. Thus I left it this afternoone burning, a
resemblance of Sodom or the last day. It forcibly call'd to my mind
that passage--_non enim hic habemus stabilem civitatem:_ the ruines
resembling the picture of Troy--London was, but is no more! Thus I
returned home.

"September 7th.--I went this morning on foote from White-hall as far
as London Bridge, thro' the late Fleete-streete, Ludgate Hill, by
St. Paules, Cheapeside, Exchange, Bishopsgate, Aldersgate, and on
to Moorefields, thence thro' Cornehill, &c., with extraordinary
difficulty, clambering over heaps of yet smoking rubbish, and
frequently mistaking where I was....

"At my returne I was infinitely concern'd to find that goodly Church
St. Paules now a sad ruine, and that beautifull portico (for structure
comparable to any in Europe, as not long before repair'd by the late
King) now rent in pieces, flakes of vast stone split asunder, and
nothing now remaining intire but the inscription in the architrave,
shewing by whom it was built, which had not one letter of it defac'd.
It was astonishing to see what immense stones the heate had in
a manner calcin'd, so that all the ornaments, columns, freezes,
capitals, and projectures of massie Portland-stone flew off, even to
the very roofe, where a sheet of lead covering a great space (no less
than six akers by measure) was totally mealted; the ruines of the
vaulted roofe falling broke into St. Faith's, which being fill'd with
the magazines of bookes belonging to the Stationers, and carried
thither for safety, they were all consum'd, burning for a weeke
following. It is also observable that the lead over the altar at the
East end was untouch'd, and among the divers monuments, the body of
one Bishop remain'd intire. Thus lay in ashes that most venerable
Church, one of the most antient pieces of early piety in the Christian
world."

Sancroft, who was Dean at the time of the fire, and who afterwards
became Archbishop, was anxious to restore the cathedral on the old
lines. Henchman was Bishop, but he left the matter for the Dean to
deal with, though