But for all his contempt of the pedantry of rules of proportion, which the greatest architects of antiquity did not observe unless it suited them, he saw in the Orders themselves something eternal: “Architecture aims at Eternity; and therefore _the only thing uncapable of Modes and Fashions in its Principals_, the Orders. The Orders are not only Roman and Greek, but Phœnician, Hebrew, and Assyrian, being founded upon the Experience of all Ages, promoted by the vast Treasures of all the great Monarchs, and skill of the greatest Artists and Geometricians, every one emulating each other.” Wren rises to his greatest height in the opening of his first Tract, and shows that if his life had fallen out otherwise, he might have left a reputation as a writer: “Architecture has its political Use; Public Buildings being the Ornament of a Country; it establishes a Nation, draws People and Commerce; makes the People love their native Country, which Passion is the Original of all great Actions in a Commonwealth. The Emulation of the Cities of Greece was the true Cause of their Greatness. The obstinate Valour of the Jews, occasioned by the Love of their Temple, was a Cement that held together that People, for many Ages, through infinite Changes.” I have quoted at what may seem to be inordinate length, but Wren is justified alike by the content of his thought and the aptness of his phrase, and I am concerned rather to reveal the man than my idea of him. In all Wren’s writings he shows an acute perception of the fact that architecture has had an immensely long evolution. He had, of course, no suspicion as to how far back its origins were to be sought, but clearly he was approaching the idea that forms, once constructive, pass into decoration and become part of the language of architecture. This is the final and, as I believe, the effective reply to the puritan theorist, who cries aloud for the discarding of traditional features in art. Sir Joshua Reynolds warned his students that the business of a painter is to paint a fine picture, and that he is not to be cheated of his materials by specious arguments. Wren was clear-sighted enough to see that the Orders have a definite beauty value: his only trouble was that he was not fully equipped to bend them wholly to his will. The western front of St. Paul’s may be taken as an instance. As a Whole it is a magnificent composition, and a source of inspiration to everyone with any feeling for architecture, but can it be pretended that the segmental vault of the upper portico does not belie the entablature and pediment in front of it? Wren could cut away architrave and frieze inside for the benefit of his great arches, and refer his critics to the Temple of Peace (now the Basilica of Maxentius) at Rome for his authority, but he lacked the insight or the courage to deal with the external problem in the same fashion. The fact is that the great architect of any age is both leader and led, and