St. Paul's Restored

Westminster Abbey belongs to the Empire (even to the world because of its "poets' corner"), but St. Paul's Cathedral is London's own. Standing in the heart of The City, according to legend on the site of an ancient Roman temple to Diana, its high golden cross is a landmark tor freighters on the Thames and for tourists on Fleet Street.

Eighteen years ago rumor spread that St Paul's like London Bridge, was fall down An elaborate scientific examination disclosed and analyzed ominous cracks in Sir Christopher Wren's great and gorgeous dome. For the restoration of . Paul's more than $2,000,000 in subscriptions poured in (a great proportion of H from the U. S.). Taking its own good time, the restoration progressed, great space under the dome was filled with scaffolding, and for over five years the scaffolding stayed there. Londoners had only the vaguest idea of exactly what was the matter with St. Paul's, but when more money was needed, more money was forthcoming.

Six months ago the actual work of reconstruction seemed to be finished. Still the enormous grey cloth curtain which tor so many years had shut off dome and crossing from the nave hung in its usual place Disregarding formidable notices: PLEASE KEEP OUT! A bold Daily Mail reporter ducked under the curtain on a voyage of discovery. The great empty vault bare of scaffolding except for a few neglected planks, was complete, looked exactly as he had remembered it. Somewhere in the distance one lone carpenter was hammering slowly on a board.

Last week the curtain came down and the public swept in. While the choir sang and trumpets blew and the organ pealed a solemn procession moved up the aisle. Proudly at its head in stiff blue suits and immaculate collars walked 100 workmen who had completed this great task, followed the Lord Mayor with his sheriffs in medieval costume, and 200 bishops. Next entered King George and Queen Mary who had come in semi-state from Temple Bar escorted by the Rt. Hon. The Lord Mayor. Behind them with military medal on their peaceful white surplices marched a delegation of Wartime clergymen. Smiling down on the whole from balconies over the west, south and north doors, were the mothers of former choir boys.

In a stiff embroidered cope the Very Reverend William Ralph Inge, "Gloomy Dean" of St. Paul's stood at the chancel rail and cried:

"I bid you welcome to our cathedral church of St. Paul on this day of its completed restoration, asking you to join-me in earnest thanksgiving to Almighty God who has inspired and guided this work through the long years and now has brought it to an end."

With a scraping of chairs and a rustle of dresses, King, Queen, commoners and choirboys' mothers knelt in thankful prayer.

After the ceremony reporters learned from the Dean's office just what the restoration of St. Paul's had actually been It was limited almost entirely to the great pillars supporting the dome. These, under Architect Christopher Wren were faced with stone but filled with rubble. In two centuries the rubble had settled. To strengthen the pillars they were given gigantic hypodermic injections of liquid cement under pressure.

Day after the thanksgiving King-Emperor George V made Paul's Dean ; Knight Commander of the Royal Victorian Order The Gloomy One intimated that he does not choose to be called or addressed hereafter as "Sir William"--though he gratefully accepted the knighthood.

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