“It’s had nearly two hundred years to do it in. But though the buildings cluster more thickly, the old wall, as you notice, still remains, and people enter or leave London through its gates. There’s one of them, you see. It’s called Aldgate, which means Old Gate, because it was one of the first to be built.” “Is that where Aldgate Street is now?” “Yes. Beyond it, as you know, in our day, London stretches on and on, northwards and eastwards. But though there _are_ buildings outside the gates, as you may see, they are set in green fields, and there is still country just beyond the gates of London. Now let us wander about a little to discover what changes there are since the last time we were in the Past. Let us see how much of the old has gone, and what there is that’s new.” [Illustration] They began their walk along the river bank, and very soon Betty saw here and there, great spaces in which sometimes a wall, sometimes a column was left standing. Otherwise, except for a litter of stones, nothing remained of the buildings but ruins. “What have they been doing here, Godmother?” she asked in surprise. “Pulling down monasteries, colleges for priests, and hospitals that were looked after by monks and nuns.” “But _why_?” “Now you’ll have to think of your history. About fifty years ago, counting that we are now in the year 1590, Elizabeth’s father, Henry the Eighth, was reigning. Remember his quarrel with the Pope. Remember how he made his subjects become Protestants. The monasteries were the homes of the monks, so they were swept away because they represented the old Roman Catholic faith. When Elizabeth came to the throne, London was as full of ruins as it had formerly been full of monasteries. Now, as we shall see, new buildings are everywhere rising on the sites of the old religious houses. But as yet there hasn’t been time to build over _all_ of them. This, for instance,” she pointed to the crumbling walls and broken pillars at which Betty was sadly gazing, “is still nothing but a heap of ruins.” “What was it?” “A college for priests, called the College of St. Spirit, built by our old friend Dick Whittington.” “Oh, what a shame!” cried Betty. “It’s dreadful to come back to London and find so many beautiful places gone or spoilt, Godmother.” “Yes, it’s sad, I agree. Though it’s true that the power of the Church had grown _too_ great, and most of the clergy had become rich and idle, it seems unnecessary to destroy the beauty of churches and monasteries because the people to whom they belonged were unworthy. However, nothing can remain as it was for ever, you know, and though we shall find much that was beautiful in the fourteenth century vanished for ever, we shall also see new beautiful things that have sprung, or are springing into life in _this_, the sixteenth century. Let us go and look at some of them. We’ll go first to the Royal Exchange.” “Why, we’ve just been there!”