The roads of London were full of pits and hollows even in William and Anne's time; and the coach-box was then a box indeed--a regular coach-repairer's shop on a small scale; for to get through a long street in bad weather without either sticking fast, breaking down, turning over, or being turned over by some reckless carman, was something to boast about in those days. The coachman had then need to be a good hand at repairs, and was oftener seen tinkering up his vehicle than mounted on his box, which in time was covered with the hammer-cloth, to conceal the materials and implements which almost every hour were called into use. What a night-journey was in those old unpaved streets may be readily imagined, when it is known that there were not more than a thousand lamps to light the whole City--that these were only kept burning until midnight during one-half of the year, and the remainder of the season were never once lighted. Such was the London we now live in, a hundred years ago. Little link-boys then generally lay in wait at the corner of every street, either ready for a few pence to light the benighted wanderer home, or more probably to lead him astray, and extinguish the light at some dangerous spot, where the thieves he was associated with were in waiting. Over thousands of troubles and trials rolled the rapid years; then the "Great Fire" broke out, and nearly every ancient landmark was destroyed; and now we have to grope our way through the twilight of dim records and a few rudely executed prints, to catch a glimpse of the old London in which our forefathers lived. This we shall endeavour to do as we thread our way through city and suburb; now glancing at the London of the present day, then turning the eye of the imagination to the ancient metropolis, which Briton, Roman, Saxon, Dane, and Norman have in succession traversed. The old highway to London is that which the daring sea-kings poetically called "the road of the swans"--the broad bosom of the sea,--and then along the majestic river which leads to her grey old fortress, the Tower. But the railroad has ploughed up the country, and this ancient "silver pathway" is abandoned to commerce and pleasure-parties; so rapid is the transit from every point of the coast, that few care to thread the winding river when they can reach London by the railroads almost as direct as "the crow flies." Such remains of ancient London as fall in our way we shall again glance at; and shall now commence our "Picturesque Sketches of London" by describing the most prominent landmark in the City--St. Paul's Cathedral, together with a few of the most interesting objects in the neighbourhood. CHAPTER II. ST. PAUL'S CATHEDRAL--DOCTORS' COMMONS--THE OLD CITY STREETS.