Works of art and of antiquity are commonly lost to the world, not in the midst of a storm of public protest, nor as the result of furious iconoclasm. They vanish, unnoticed by those who care most for them, and their value is felt only when it is too late. It looks as if we were on the eve of just such a catastrophe which will deprive us of some of the most distinguished examples of architectural design that have ever been created by the English genius. And if this happens, we students of art must be held largely to blame, for so far we have failed even to attempt to formulate any expression of our attitude.

Some months ago there was raised in the popular press a furore over the proposed destruction by the Church of England of nineteen City churches. It served its purpose of providing "tony copy" for the editors, and rapidly passed away, not to be revived. People felt impotently glad that "something had been done"; the flame of agitation was extinguished in a sea of vague satisfaction. But the time of real danger came, not with the birth of the movement, but with its death. The deed will be perpetrated, like other deeds of the kind, in the dark and the silence-in just such an ominous stillness as has now descended upon the whole question.


The Lord Bishop of London, in reply to an enquiry I sent him, says, "The matter of the City Churches is still under very careful consideration. It is not, however, the least likely there will be a wholesale demolition of these churches. Each case will be carefully considered one by one." This comfortless communication, when one remembers the scant recognition the buildings have in previous discussions received as works of art, will leave all connoisseurs and many cultured people anxious and depressed. Our uneasiness will be appeased neither by the thought that the churches may be destroyed one by one instead of all together, nor by the notion of the retention of the spires alone. It shall be appeased only when we have a definite assurance that not a single stone is to be taken from its place. The use of the churches for secular purposes is, rightly or wrongly, regarded as a desecration. Their destruction is surely a desecration still less pardonable. We do not feel at this moment inclined to discuss their merit. They have long ago passed the censors of criticism, and the world thought them forever secure. As for the argument that "people do not go to see them": If they do not- and we are not aware that they do not- then so much the worse for "people". Once let us admit that as a principle and how many fine works of art would have to disappear! Many of them were conceived by one of the greatest creators for whom our race can account, and he built them on the crest of a high enthusiasm, with a fine sense of his responsibility and an energy altogether worthy of himself and the occasion. The Churchmen of that time realised the greatness of Wren and the permanent value of his immense accomplishment. It is for the Churchmen of today to decide whether the celebrated epitaph their fathers raised above his tomb has to remain significant or to become a sham; whether we and our children shall look around us at the perfect legacy left for us by our Master Architect or at the monuments of his genius scarred, disfigured and blotted out?

I propose to reply to the Lord Bishop of London by sending him a list of signatures of those of us who, whatever our opinions may be regarding the difficulties confronting the Church in this matter, wish to emphasise the importance of these edifices as works of art and to express the hope that they may be allowed to remain intact and unmutilated. I therefore ask all who share this hope to send me on a postcard or otherwise the words "City churches" together with their signature and address.