My Lord Mayor

North Canterbury Gazette, Volume 7, Issue 56, 19 November 1937, Page 4

My Lord Mayor

The City of London recently elected its new Lord Mayor. On the eighth of November he took the oath of office; and on the following day he was presented to the Lord Chief Justice of England, and paraded in his coach in the streets of the capital—attended by his citizen-officers “of “credit and renown,” amid fifing and drumming, and a time-hon-oured circumstance of pomp. The spectacle is always impressive, and one that befits the installation of the greatest civic dignitary in the British Empire. For twelve months, after long years as a private ctiizen, each holder of the office becomes the peer of the noblest in the land, the host, on occasions, of Royalty,' the chief magistrate of “the City,” and ruler over many things affecting the lives of his fellows. Nearly seven hundred and fifty years have passed since Henry Fitzalwyn became the first to bear the title of Mayor of London. Among his successors were many who played effective parts in their country’s history. Yet there is only one whose fame has spread far beyond the realm, and endures in a legend that shall preserve the name of Dick Whittington as long as that of London Town. He deserves to be remembered.

Not for the romantic and fabulous embellishments that time has bestowed upon his career; but because that career is at once an inspiration, and a true symbol of the fact, so rigidly maintained, that worth and honourable service alone are the essentials for election. The Bells of Bow that once rang so prophetically: "Turn again, Whittington, thrice Lord Mayor of London,” still ring with hope for the aspiring apprentice.