Amongst the criticisms directed against Wren as an antiquary are those which are concerned with his Gothic exercises. One otherwise devout admirer says of St. Dunstan-in-the-East, St. Mary’s, Aldermary, and St. Michael’s, Cornhill: “Whether Wren made these designs under pressure, or merely as academical exercises for the entertainment of his friends is unknown, but it is very evident that he had not the least sympathy with Gothic architecture, or taken any trouble to master its most rudimentary features.” Without going into the reasons for these Gothic adventures beyond dismissing the idea that Wren made such solid entertainment for his friends, it is at least safe to reply that Wren understood the nature of Gothic very well. That is not to say that he could reproduce it, but the informed student of any phase of art is not necessarily the person to create it. In 1669 he made a survey of Salisbury Cathedral for his old friend Bishop Seth Ward, and wrote a report which shows a true critical appreciation of the problems of the mediæval architect, of where he failed but also of where he succeeded. There is none of the contemptuous violence used by the virtuous Evelyn when he refers to Gothic, which led the way for Ruskin’s later vehemence about the “foul torrent of the Renaissance.” Wren merely remarks, “This Form of Churches has been rejected by modern Architects abroad, who use the better and Roman Art of Architecture,” and commends the proportions of the nave and aisles: “The Mouldings are decently mixed with large Planes, without an Affectation of filling every Corner with Ornaments, ... the Architect trusted to a stately and rich plainness.” Wren’s criticisms are directed to the foundations, the low level of the floor, the insufficient size of the pillars, and the bracing of the walls with iron. He also objected, with some justice, to the poise of the aisle vaulting, supported from without by buttresses but not within save by the pillars themselves. It happened that Wren had to concern himself intimately with other “congestions of heavy dark melancholy and monkish piles, without any just proportion, use or beauty” (the phrase is Evelyn’s), such as Westminster Abbey. For twenty-five years he was Surveyor to the Abbey, and wrote a Report on it in 1713. We may pass over his historical paragraphs, which show shrewdness of observation, for his _obiter dicta_ on Gothic methods. He disliked the “flutter of archbuttresses,” as they “occasion the Ruin of Cathedrals, being so much exposed to the Air and Weather,” but is tolerant of Henry VII.’s Chapel, “a nice embroidered Work.”