Close to Temple-bar, on the city side of that structure, stands the church of St. Dunstan; not the building on whose well-blackened front the passer-by, especially if from the country, was wont to pause and gaze, attracted by the sight of the two large figures that once stood beside the clock and struck the hours with their clubs. Often have we passed the knot of freshly-imported rusticity, or that still more curious class whose profit was derived from the former, whose fingers were exploring in one direction while the eyes of the unwary stranger were gazing in another. But both cause and consequence have vanished; now the church front presents nothing to arrest the steps of the passer-by. The clock in the steeple is a mere every-day dial and to the unimaginative pedestrian is like the “yellow primrose” of Wordsworth—it is a clock, “and it is nothing more.” The widened pavement and the less obstructed way must, we suppose, be accepted as the compensations for the loss of the “old curiosities,” which now adorn, we believe, the gardens of the Marquis of Hertford, by whom they were purchased when dislodged from their ancient position.
St. Dunstan, to whom the church is dedicated, is one of the most celebrated saints of the calendar. He was of noble family, and was born in 925, at Glastonbury, where be received his earliest education. He mixed for some years with the occupations of the court of Athelstan, but being disgusted, for some unknown reason, with secular pursuits, he returned to Glastonbury, and resumed the life of a monk, practising all the austerities of the monastic life with extraordinary rigour. He obtained a widely-spread reputation for sancity; but there seems reason to believe that his mind was somewhat affected. The well-known story of his taking the devil by the nose with a pair of red-hot pincers was, probably, nothing more than a delusion which, believing himself, was received with general belief by others. There is much less doubt on another point, namely, that he was a man of extraordinary talents; and so great was the reputation be acquired that, after haring been for some years in retirement, he was called again into the world, and, in 848, Edred, the successor of Edmund, gave over his conscience, his treasures, his authority, to the exclusive and entire control of Dunstan. From this time forth his career was that of an able and ambitious churchman, bending all his energies to the aggrandisement of the authority of the church. He met with some opposition from the nobles, but was so strongly supported by the Pope, that he was able to set them at defiance, and to carry out his plans to their utmost extent. During the reigns of Edgar, Edwy, and Edward, he maintained his power, but, on the accession of Ethelred, his influence declined, and he is said to have died of vexation in May, 988.
The Illustrated London News, London, England, Week Ending August 20, 1842
