For centuries London was remarkable for its gardens, but this has been changed at the end of the nineteenth century. Considering the great value of land in ‘the City,’ I suppose it cannot be a matter of surprise that almost every bit of garden or green place has been swept out of existence, but I think every lover of London will sympathize with the protest against this tendency which concludes Mr. Norman’s book. I do not, however, wish to keep the reader longer from learning what the author has to say, and I will only add that this volume will form a most useful and agreeable addition to the extensive literature which is gradually growing up in connection with the ever-increasing world of houses and men which is known as London. HENRY B. WHEATLEY. OPPIDANS ROAD, N.W., _March_, 1893. [Illustration] [Illustration] _AUTHOR’S PREFACE._ UNTIL the beginning of this century, I may almost say till the development of our railway system some fifty years ago, though London was continually spreading in all directions, its heart--the City--remained very much as Wren had left it. Here many a well-to-do trader was content to dwell in the substantial house in which his business was carried on, and to pray in the neighbouring parish church where his father had prayed before him. Now the church has, likely enough, disappeared, the monuments of his ancestors are bundled off no one knows where; perhaps the very street in which he lived is changed out of all power of recognition. In short, to meet our modern requirements, the City has become a mere mass of offices, warehouses, and gigantic railway-stations, whence issue each morning myriads of human beings who spend the day in struggling for wealth or a livelihood, and at night return to their homes, which are spread over an area some sixty miles in diameter, leaving the centre to be protected by a few porters and caretakers. The decrease in the resident population has now extended a considerable distance west. To the observing eye, however, traces of a former state of things are still to be seen, not only in important buildings such as the City halls, the parish churches and the old merchants’ houses still existing; but in objects less conspicuous, for instance, the sculptured house and street signs which came into fashion after the Great Fire. These have no little artistic merit, and almost all are interesting from their associations. The greater part of my book is devoted to a careful description of such signs; not only the existing ones, but all of which I can find any mention. This description I have tried to make as complete as possible, and I have allowed myself some latitude, recording not only facts which appeared to me of interest concerning the particular house, court, or alley to which the sign belonged, but also its probable origin, and any story or legend that might be connected with it.