The familiar clock which projects over the street was the subject of many experiments and failures. As it is there is something ungainly and lacking in proportion about it. It was tried in various positions, but the truth is it is not adapted to the tower, and the old and old-fashioned carved and gilt dials which are seen in the bye lanes of the City are infinitely more _cheerful_ and effective. It was long “on the cards” whether the Courts should be built on the Embankment instead of in their present _locale_. It is unfortunate that the former site was not selected. The effect would have been as imposing as it was convenient; but it was thought to be too far away from the haunts of the barristers--from the Temple and the Inns of Court. The most splendid “Palace of Justice” in the world has been recently completed by “poor little Belgium.” Nothing more monumental, more stately, gigantic, can be conceived than the new Courts at Brussels. It towers over everything, and almost astounds. * * * * * Perhaps the most striking and imposing structure in all London is the great Cathedral of ST. PAUL. In a pleasing passage Mr. Justin McCarthy has recorded his impressions of the aspect of this wonderful building. Many years ago, when he was beginning his literary career in London, he used, he said, to come down the river as far as Blackfriars at all seasons and in all weathers, and he never came near to the Bridge without observing the magnificent dome of St. Paul’s. He would go into one of the niches and lose himself in the singular beauty of the noble dome, rising out of the mist or gilded by the sunlight. It was always beautiful and always touching, no matter what the weather might be. Seen dimly shining through fog or mist it had a certain charm, because it seemed to be like some building in a distant phantom city of which you could only imagine a dim outline. When he looked around him and saw the hurrying crowds of people and heard the noise, the tumult, the incessant tramping, the constant talk of the passers-by, it seemed to him a sort of poetic duty to lift himself, for a few moments at least, out of the daily commonplace of life, and have a sort of communion with that ideal world which was floating high above him. He added, that there were two points of view from which such a picture could be looked at; to consider whether the real and ideal ought to be brought into juxtaposition or be compared and contrasted with each other to make a true picture, whether in life or in art. The very dome of St. Paul’s would not be so beautiful were it not for the bustling crowd below, nor would the crowd seem so real without the calm dome above.