We hear of Wren at this time busied as of old for the Royal Society, going, with his son and Sir Isaac Newton, to inspect a house in Crane Court,[240] and finally buying it as a residence for the Society. Again he appears with Newton, and the son who seems to have been his constant companion, going down to Greenwich as visitors of the Royal Observatory there and making their report upon it. As Flamsteed hated Newton, and greatly resented any formal visitation, the expedition must have taxed even Wren's peace-making powers, but Flamsteed never seems to have quarrelled with him. [_DEATH OF QUEEN ANNE._] In the summer of the following year 'good Queen Anne' died, and with her all real chance of the return of the Stuart family, despite the gallant and devoted attempts made for 'Prince Charlie' in 'the '15' and 'the '45.' The sixth and last English reign which Wren was destined to see began in 1714 with the accession of George I. The S. Paul's Commission was renewed, with, of course, Wren's name upon it, but the annoyances of his position increased. In his design, S. Paul's stood complete with a plinth over the entablature, and with statues on the four pediments only. The Commissioners took it into their heads that a balustrade with vases was greatly needed, and that it should be put up, unless Wren could 'set forth in writing, under his hand, that it is contrary to the principles of architecture and give his opinion in a fortnight's time.' This looks very like a device for tormenting the old man of eighty-five, and revenging themselves for their previous defeat. Exactly within the fortnight Wren sent an answer which certainly shows no trace of failing powers. 'I take leave, first, to declare that I never designed a balustrade. Persons of little skill in architecture did expect, I believe, to see something they had been used to in Gothick structures; and ladies think nothing well without an edging. I should gladly have complied with the vulgar taste but I suspended for the reasons following.' The technical reasons are given, and he adds: 'that as no provision was originally made in my plan for a balustrade, the setting up one in such a confused manner over the plinth must apparently break into the harmony of the whole machine, and, in this particular case, be _contrary to the principles of architecture_.' Nothing daunted, either by Wren's reasons or his sarcasm, and regardless of their implied promise, the wise Commissioners of the Cathedral set to work on their balustrade. [_DISMISSED FROM HIS OFFICE._]