Alexander Pope unwittingly offered valuable solace andencouragement to students of urban morphology whenhe observed, in An Essay on Man, ‘Amighty maze! but not without a plan’. The search forguiding principles shaping morphology, for theformative, generative and adaptive processesoperating in space and through time, is a major goalin the field of urban investigation. Everysettlement consists of a number, or a mosaic, ofdistinct morphological units. These units can beclassified on various dimensions such as period ofdevelopment, building style or functional use. Theunits vary in size and complexity, or heterogeneity,of elements. On occasion, complexity wasincorporated into the original design, as in thecase of the Georgian New Town of Edinburgh. Morecommonly, complexity emerged as a result ofsubsequent adaptation, alteration and partial ortotal replacement of elements such as plots, blocks,frontages or townscapes. A fundamental, thoughrather neglected, concern of the morphologist is theidentification of formative, generative and adaptiveprocesses and the establishment of a relationalmodel incorporating all of the interactivecomponents, i.e. factors, processes, morphologicalelements and agents involved in the decision-makingprocess.

London is one of the best recorded of medieval cities.Yet the very bulk of the sources has in the pastinhibited systematic enquiry, so that for manyperiods and aspects of its history the capitalremains the unknown element in English urbanaffairs. The greatest quantity of records concernsproperty-holding, and one way of making sense ofthis forbidding mass of information is toreconstitute it in the form of histories of theproperties to which it refers. Since the earlyeighteenth century this way of using urban recordshas been adopted from time to time in antiquarianstudies which have thrown valuable light onconditions in English medieval towns. In particularH. E. Salter's work on medieval Oxford inspired thepresent author to apply similar methods in a studyof Winchester, which is now complete. Winchesterpointed the way to London and to a means ofremedying our great ignorance of that city.

Swift's poetic jibe was aimed at the ever-friendlessliterary critic; but there were many others whoshared in the polymorphic business of ‘givingdirections’ to the unwieldy town. Some veryliterally so: the makers of the early directoriesprovided names, addresses, and occupations ofleading urban residents, plus staple informationabout transport services, posts, banks andmiscellaneous local offices. Itemizing andclassifying a complex urbanity took a certainconfidence. ‘I have taken upon me the arduous Taskof compiling a Complete Guide, forthe easy finding out of every inhabitant of theleast Consequence…’, asserted Elizabeth Raffald,publishing the Manchester Directoryin 1772, while confessing the difficulties of thetask. Not everyone may have been convinced by hercomputation that the significant citizens numberedonly 1,500 men and women, in a growing conurbationof over 30,000 residents. But that was not thepoint. A directory offered immediacy rather thancomplete accuracy or comprehension. Indeed, mostcompilers were careful not to claim too much.‘Errors and Deficien- cies must unavoidably appearin every Work of this Kind, from the extremeDifficulty of procuring Information in some Things,and the fluctuating Variety of others’, as ADirectory of Sheffield explained firmlyin 1787. Many compilations made a caveat of thissort, and indicated a willingness to acceptcorrections and additions for future editions.

Directories have had a somewhat chequered history, bothin terms of their original production, and also intheir subsequent use as sources of information. To alarge extent these two aspects are closely related,as is illustrated by the reluctance of some urbanhistorians to use directories because of doubts overtheir reliability. A further factor determining theextent to which directories have been utilized, hasbeen the availability of other information. InBritain it has been the relative abundance of smallarea census data that has had an important effect ondirecting research in urban history, by drawing muchattention away from the exploration and use of othersources. This is certainly the case withdirectories, which for many researchers have servedonly as a ‘stop-gap’, being used when nothing elsewas available and then often with a scepticalattitude. Recently, some of these views have startedto change as a growing number of urban historiansmake more use of directory material, particularly inthe study of urban systems and changes in commercialstructures.

E. H. Carr once admitted his envy of medievalhistorians who have a manageable body of evidence todeal with but found consolation in the belief thattheir competence was, in a sense, based onignorance. Students of the English town in the latermiddle ages may soon be in the ‘enviable’ positionof having no reliable sources at all with which tojudge progress of urban life. The use of thestatistical evidence of lay subsidy returns of 1334and 1524 and the lists of admissions of freemen tolate medieval towns as indicators of the prosperityof England's towns in the later middle ages has beenquestioned and the meaning of these sources is opento doubt. Yet much of the evidence for urban declinecomes from impressionistic sources, sources whichwere often compiled by townsmen with a vestedinterest in pleading poverty in order to obtainfinancial relief. The value of this evidence hasalso been challenged.

New Zealand's national myths have emphasized the ruralfrontier. The archetypal and most commonlycelebrated colonist has been the backblocks settler,the cow cockie, and to some extent the gold miner.New Zealanders have never seen much glamour in theirtowns. Yet from the very beginning New Zealand hasbeen a mainly urban society. Many towns were foundedin the early stages of European settlement, and NewZealand has exhibited in modified form the tendencyto ‘metropolitanism’ characteristic of othercountries that were settled in the mid-nineteenthcentury. The urban historian could have a veryimportant role to play in helping New Zealanders tocome to terms with, and absorb into their sense ofnational identity, this major aspect of theirnational existence.