Towards the rebuilding of [extra_illustrations.1.249.11] , [extra_illustrations.1.249.1] [extra_illustrations.1.249.2] [extra_illustrations.1.249.3] [extra_illustrations.1.249.14] [extra_illustrations.1.249.4] [extra_illustrations.1.249.5] [extra_illustrations.1.249.6] [extra_illustrations.1.249.7] [extra_illustrations.1.249.8] [extra_illustrations.1.249.9] [extra_illustrations.1.249.10] [extra_illustrations.1.249.12] , generous as usual in promises, offered an annual contribution of ; but this, however, never seems to have been paid. It, no doubt, went to pay Nell Gwynne's losses at the gambling-table, or to feed the Duchess of Portsmouth's lap-dogs. Some in fines, however, were set apart for the new building. The Primate Sheldon gave . Many of the bishops contributed largely, and there were parochial collections all over England. But the bulk of the money was obtained from the City duty on coals, which (as Dean Milman remarks) in time had their revenge in destroying the stonework of the Cathedral. It was only by a fortunate accident that Wren became the builder; for [extra_illustrations.1.249.15] , whose tastes and vices were all French, had in vain invited over Perrault, the designer of of the fronts of the Louvre.

The [extra_illustrations.1.249.13] , was the son of a Dean of Windsor, and nephew of a Bishop of Norwich whom Cromwell had imprisoned for his Romish tendencies. From a boy Wren had shown a genius for scientific discovery. He distinguished himself in almost every branch of knowledge, and to his fruitful brain we are indebted for some fiftytwo suggestive discoveries. He now hoped to rebuild London on a magnificent scale; but it was not to be. Even in the plans for the new cathedral Wren was from the beginning thwarted and impeded. Ignorance, envy, jealousy, and selfishness met him at every line he drew. He made designs--the [extra_illustrations.1.249.16] , the a Latin cross. The Greek cross the clergy considered as unsuitable for a cathedral. The model for it was long preserved in the Trophy Room of , where, either from neglect or the zeal of relic-hunters, the western portico was lost. It is now at South Kensington, and is still imperfect. The interior of the design is by many considered superior to the present interior. The present recesses along the aisles of the nave, tradition says, were insisted on by James II., who thought they would be useful as side chapels when masses were once more introduced.

The stone was laid by Wren on the , but there was no public ceremonial. Soon after the great geometrician had drawn the circle for the beautiful dome, he sent a workman for a stone to mark the exact centre. The man returned with a fragment of a tombstone, on which was the ominous word (as every observed)

Resurgam!

I build for eternity,

Well begun is half done. The Cathedral grew fast, and in -and- years from the laying of the stone the choir was opened for Divine service. The master mason who helped to lay the stone assisted in fixing the last in the lantern. A great day was chosen for the opening of . , was the thanksgiving day for the Peace of Ryswick--the treaty which humbled France, and seated William firmly and permanently on the English throne. The king, much against his will, was persuaded to stay at home by his courtiers, who dreaded armed Jacobites among the people who would throng the streets. Worthy Bishop Compton, who, dressed as a trooper, had guarded the Princess Anne in her flight from her father, preached that inspiring day on the text,

I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord.

[extra_illustrations.1.250.1] , during her eventful reign, went times to in solemn procession, to commemorate victories over France or Spain. The of these () was a jubilee for Marlborough's triumph in the Low Countries, and Rooke's destruction of the Spanish fleet at Vigo. The Queen sat on a raised and canopied throne; the Duke of Marlborough, as Groom of the Stole, on a stool behind her. The Lords and Commons, who had arrived in procession, were arranged in the choir. The brave old Whig Bishop of Exeter, Sir Jonathan Trelawney (

and shall Trelawney die?

was already, to all intents and purposes, completed. [extra_illustrations.1.250.2]  was ringed with its golden gallery, and crowned with its glittering cross. In , Wren's son and the body of Freemasons had laid the highest stone of the lantern of the cupola, and now commenced the bitterest mortifications of Wren's life. The commissioners had dwindled down to Dean Godolphin and or , civilians from . Wren's old friends were dead. His foes compelled him to pile the organ on the screen, though he had intended it to be under the north-east arch of the choir, where it now is. Wren wished to use mosaic for internal decoration; they pronounced it too costly, and they took the painting of the cupola out of Wren's hands and gave it to Hogarth's father-in-law, [extra_illustrations.1.250.3] . They complained of wilful delay in the work, and accused Wren or his assistant of corruption; they also withheld part of his salary till the work was completed. Wren covered the cupola with lead, at a cost of ; the committee were for copper, at . About the iron railing for the churchyard there was also wrangling. Wren wished a low fence, to leave the vestibule and the steps free and open. The commissioners thought Wren's design mean and weak, and chose the present heavy and cumbrous iron-work, which breaks up the view of the west front.

The new organ, by Father Bernard Smith, which cost , was shorn of its full size by Wren, perhaps in vexation at its misplacement. The paltry statue of Queen Anne, in the churchyard, was by Bird, and cost ,, exclusive of the marble, which the Queen provided. The carvings in the choir, by Grinling Gibbons, cost On some of the exterior sculpture Cibber worked.

In a violent pamphlet appeared, written, it was supposed, by of the commissioners. It accused Wren's head workmen of pilfering timber and cracking the bells. Wren proved the charges to be malicious and untrue. The commissioners now insisted on adding a stone balustrade all round , in spite of Wren's protests. He condemned the addition as

contrary to the principles of architecture, and as breaking into the harmony of the whole design;

ladies think nothing well without an edging.

The next year, the commissioners went a step further. Wren, then years old, and in the year of office, was dismissed without apology from his post of Surveyor of Public Works. The German Court, hostile to all who had served the Stuarts, appointed in his place a poor pretender, named Benson. This charlatannow only remembered by a line in the which ridicules the singular vanity of a man who erected a monument to Milton, in , and crowded the marble with his own titles --was afterwards dismissed from his surveyorship with ignominy, but had yet influence enough at Court to escape prosecution and obtain several valuable sinecures. Wren retired to his house at , and there sought consolation in philosophical and religious studies. Once a year, says Horace Walpole, the good old man was carried to , to contemplate the glorious of his genius. Steele, in the refers to Wren s vexations, and attributes them to his modesty and bashfulness.

The total sum expended on the building of , according to Dean Milman, was ; a small residue from the coal duty was all that was left for future repairs. To this Dean Clark added about , part of the profits arising from an Essex estate (the gift of an old Saxon king), leased from the Dean and Chapter. The charge of the fabric was vested not in the Dean and Chapter, but in the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of London, and the Lord Mayor for the time being. These trustees elect the surveyor and audit the accounts.

On the accession of [extra_illustrations.1.250.4]  (), the new king, princes, and princesses went in state to . years elapsed before an English king again entered Wren's cathedral. In April.

The grave sunk in was fittingly that of [extra_illustrations.1.251.3]  its builder. He lies in the place of honour, the extreme east of the crypt. The black marble slab is railed in, and the light from a small window-grating falls upon the venerated name. Sir Christopher died in , aged . he fine inscription,

Si monumentum requiris, circumspice,

The clergy of were for a long time jealous of allowing any monument in the cathedral. Dean Newton wished for a tomb, but it was afterwards erected in . A better man than the vain, place-hunting dean was the honoured. The earliest statue admitted was that of the benevolent Howard, who had mitigated suffering and sorrow in all the prisons of Europe; he stands at the corner of the dome facing that half-stripped athlete, [extra_illustrations.1.251.4]  and the are generally taken by country visitors for St. Peter and St. Paul. He who with Goldsmith had wandered through the Abbey, wondering if day their names might not be recorded there, found a grave in , and, thanks to Reynolds, the place of honour. Sir Joshua himself, as of our greatest painters, took the place, that Hogarth should have occupied; and the was awarded to that great Oriental scholar, Sir William Jones. The clerical opposition was now broken through, for the world felt that the Abbey was full enough, and that required adorning.

Henceforward was chiefly set apart for naval and military heroes whom the city could best appreciate, while the poets, great writers, and statesmen were honoured in the Abbey, and laid among the old historic dead. From the beginning our sculptors resorted to pagan emblems and pagan allegorical figures; the result is that resembles a Pantheon of the Lower Empire and is a hospital of -rate art. The nava conqueror so honoured was [extra_illustrations.1.251.5] ; Rossi received for his cold and clumsy design: Lord Howe's statue followed; and next that of Lord Duncan, the hero of Camperdown. It is a simple statue by Westmacott, with a seaman and his wife and child on the pedestal. For Earl St. Vincent, Bailey produced a colossal statue and the usual scribbling, History and a trumpeting Victory.

Then came Nelson's brothers in arms-men of lesser mark; but the nation was grateful, and the Government was anxious to justify its wars by its victories. was growing less particular, and now opened its arms to the best men it could get. Many of Nelson's captains preceded him on the red road to death-Westcott, who fell at Aboukir; [extra_illustrations.1.251.6] , who fell before Copenhagen (a far from stainless victory). Riou was the brave man whom Campbell immortalised in his fiery Riou lies

Full many a fathom deep,

By thy wild and stormy steep,

Elsinore.

Then at last, in , came a hero worthy, indeed, of such a cathedral-- [extra_illustrations.1.251.8] . At what a moment had Nelson expired! At the close of a victory that had annihilated the fleets of France and Spain, and secured to the empire of the seas. The whole nation that day shed tears of

pride and of sorrow.

I heard, or fancied I heard, the low wail of the sailors who encircled the remains of their admiral.

The military heroes have been contributed by various wars, just and unjust, successful and the reverse. There is that tough old veteran, Lord Heathfield, who drove off angry nations from the scorched rock of Gibraltar; Sir Isaac Brock, who fell near Niagara; [extra_illustrations.1.252.2] , who perished in Egypt; and Sir John Moore, who played so well a losing game at Corunna. Cohorts of Wellington's soldiers too lie in St. Paul's-brave men, who sacrificed their lives at Talavera, Vimiera, Ciudad Rodrigo, Salamanca, Vittoria, and Bayonne. Nor has our proud and just nation disdained to honour even equally gallant men who were defeated. There are monuments in to the vanquished at Bergen-op-Zoom, New Orleans, and Baltimore.

That climax of victory, Waterloo, brought Ponsonby and Picton to . Picton lies in the vestibule of the Wellington chapel. years after Waterloo, in the fulness of his years, [extra_illustrations.1.252.5]  was deservedly honoured by [extra_illustrations.1.252.3] [extra_illustrations.1.252.1] . It was impossible to lay him beside Nelson, so the eastern chapel of the crypt was appropriated for his sarcophagus. From to

After Nelson and Wellington, the lesser names seem to dwindle down. Yet among the great, pure, and good, we may mention, there are some Crimean memorials. There also is the monument of [extra_illustrations.1.252.4] , that good Governor-General of India; those of the Napiers, the historian and the conqueror of Scinde, true knights both; that

In the crypt near Wren lie many of our most celebrated English artists. [extra_illustrations.1.253.1]  died in . His pall was borne by peers, and upwards of a carriages followed his hearse. Near him lies his successor as president, West, the Quaker painter; courtly Lawrence; Barry, whom Reynolds detested; rough, clever Opie; Dance; and eccentric Fuseli. In this goodly company, also, sleeps a greater than all of these-Joseph Mallord William Turner, the landscape painter of the world. He had requested,when dying, to be buried as near to his old master, Reynolds, as possible. It is said that Turner, soured with the world, had

Only robbery has occurred in modern times in . In , the plate repository of the cathedral was broken open by thieves, with the connivance of, as is supposed, some official, and ounces of plate, valued at above , were stolen. The thieves broke open doors to get at the treasure, which was never afterwards heard of. The spoil included the chased silver-gilt covers of the large () Bible, chalices, plates, tankards, and candlesticks.

The cathedral, left colourless and blank by Wren, has never yet been finished. The Protestant choir remains in corner, like a dry, shrivelled nut in a large shell. Like the proud snail in the fable, that took possession ofthe lobster-shell and starved there, we remained for more than a century complacently content with our unfurnished house. t length our tardy zeal awoke. In the Bishop of London wrote to the Dean and Chapter, urging a series of Sunday evening services, for the benefit of the floating masses of Londoners. Dean Milman replied, at once warming to the proposal, and suggested the decoration and completion of , The earnest appeal for

the noblest church, in its style, of Christian Europe, the masterpiece of Wren, the glory and pride of London,

The dome had originally been filled by Thornhill with scenes from the life of St. Paul. He received for them the not very munificent but quite adequate sum of per square yard. They soon began to show symptoms of decay, and Mr. Parris, the painter, invented an apparatus by which they could easily be repaired, but no funds could then be found; yet when the paintings fell off in flakes, much money and labour was expended on the restoration, which has now proved useless. Mr. Penrose has shown that so ignorant was Sir James of perspective, that his painted architecture has actually the effect of making Wren's pilasters seem to lean forward.

Much has already been done in . out of the large spandrel pictures round the dome are already executed. There are eventually to be evangelists and major prophets. Above the gilt rails of the whispering gallery an inscription on a mosaic and gold ground has been placed. A marble memorial pulpit has been put up, The screen has been removed, and the organ, greatly enlarged and improved, has been divided into parts, which have been placed on either side of the choir, above the stalls; the dome is lighted with gas; the golden gallery, ball, and cross have been re-gilt. The great baldachino is still wanting, but stained-glass windows have been erected, and among the. donors have been the Drapers' and Goldsmiths' Companies; there are also memorial windows to the late Bishop Blomfield and Cotton, Esq. The Grocers', Merchant Taylors', Goldsmiths', Mercers, and Fishmongers' Companies have generously gilt the vaults of the choir and the arches adjoining the dome. Some or more windows still require stained glass. The wall panels are to be in various places adorned with inlaid marbles. It is not intended that should try to rival at Rome in exube- France of ornament, but it still requires a good deal of clothing. The great army of sable martyrs in marble have been at last washed white, and the fire-engines might now advantageously be used upon the exterior.

A few figures about the dimensions of will not be uninteresting. The cathedral is feet in circumference, and the height from the nave pavement, to the top of the cross is feet. The height of at Rome being feet, could stand inside . The western towers are feet high. From east to west, is feet long, while is feet. The cupola is considered by many as more graceful than that of ,

though in its connection with the church by an order higher than that below it there is a violation of the laws of the art.

From the haunches of the dome, says Mr. Gwilt, feet above the pavement of the church, another cone of brickwork commences, feet high and feet diameter at the bottom. This cone is pierced with apertures, as well for the purpose of diminishing its weight as for distributing the light between it and the outer dome. At the top it is gathered into a dome in the form of a hyperboloid, pierced near the vertex with an aperture feet in diameter. The top of this cone is feet from the pavement, and carries [extra_illustrations.1.255.4]  feet high, terminating in a dome whereon a ball and (Aveline) cross is raised. The last-named cone is provided with corbels, sufficient in number to receive the hammer-beams of the external dome, which is of oak, and its base feat from the pavement, its summit being level with the top of the cone. In form it is nearly hemispherical, and generated by radii feet in length, whose centres are in a horizontal diameter passing through its base. The cone and the interior dome are restrained in their lateral thrust on the supports by tiers of strong iron chains (weighing cwt. qrs. lbs.), placed in grooves prepared for their reception, and run with lead. The lowest of these is inserted in masonry round their common base, and the other at different heights on the exterior of the cone. Over the intersection of the nave and transepts for the external work, and for a height of feet above the roof of the church, a cylindrical wall rises, whose diameter is feet. Between it and the lower conical wall is a space, but at intervals they are connected by cross-walls. his cylinder is quite plain, but perforated by courses of rectangular apertures. On it stands a peristyle of columns of the Corinthian order, feet high, including bases and capitals, with a plain entablature crowned by a balustrade. In this peristyle every intercolumniation is filled up solid, with a niche, and connection is provided between it and the wall of the lower cone. Vertically over the base of that cone, above the peristyle, rises another cylindrical wall, appearing above the balustrade. It is ornamented with pilasters, between which are tiers of rectangular windows. From this wall the external dome springs. The lantern receives no support from it. It is merely ornamental, differing entirely, in that respect, from the dome of .

In Mr. Homer passed the summer in the lantern, sketching the metropolis; he afterwards erected [extra_illustrations.1.255.2]  several feet higher than the cross, and made sketches for a panorama on a surface of feet of drawing paper. From these sheets was painted a panorama of London and the environs, exhibited at the , in , in . The view from extends for miles round. On the south the horizon is bounded by Leith Hill. In high winds the scaffold used to creak and whistle like a ship labouring in a storm, and once the observatory was torn from its lashings and turned partly over on the edge of the platform. The sight and sounds of awaking London are said to have much impressed the artist.

On entering the cathedral, says Mr. Horner, at in the morning, the stillness which then prevailed in the streets of this populous city, contrasted with their midday bustle, was only surpassed by the more solemn and sepulchral stillness of the cathedral itself. But not less impressive was the development at that early hour of the immense scene from its lofty summit, whence was frequently beheld

the forest of London,

Mr. Horner, in his narrative, mentions a narrow escape of Mr. Gwyn, while engaged in measuring the top of the dome for a sectional drawing he was making of the cathedral. While absorbed in his work Mr. Gwyn slipped down the globular surface of the dome till his foot stopped on a projecting lump of lead. In this awful situation, like a man hanging to the moon, he remained till of his assistants providentially saw and rescued him.

The following was, if possible, an even narrower escape:--When Sir James Thornhill was painting

Bless my soul, what have you done?

I have only saved your life!

Sir James Thornhill was the son of a reduced Dorsetshire gentleman. His uncle, the well-known physician, Dr. Sydenham, helped to educate him. He travelled to see the old masters, and on his return Queen Anne appointed him to paint the dome of . He was considered to have executed the work, in the panels,

in a noble manner.

He afterwards,

executed several public works-painting, at

Hampton Court

, the Queen and Prince George of Denmark, allegorically; and in the chapel of All; Souls, Oxford, the portrait of the founder, over the altar the ceiling, and figures between the windows. His masterpiece is the refectory and saloon at Greenwich Hospital. He was knighted by George II. He died

May 4, 1734

, leaving a son, John, who became serjeant painter to the king, and a daughter, who married Hogarth. He was a well-made and pleasant man, and sat in Parliament for some years.

The cathedral was artificially secured from lightning, according to the suggestion of the Royal Society, in . The iron scrolls supporting the ball and cross are connected with other rods (used merely as conductors), which unite them with several large bars descending obliquely to the stone-work of the lantern, and connected by an iron ring with other iron bars to the lead covering of the great cupola, a distance of fortyeight feet; thence the communication is continued by the rain-water pipes, which pass into the earth, thus completing the entire communication from the cross to the ground, partly through iron and partly through lead. On the clock-tower a bar of iron connects the pine-apple on the top with the iron staircase, and thence with the lead on the roof of the church. The bell-tower. is similarly protected. By these means the. metal used in the building is made available as conductors, the metal employed merely for that purpose being exceedingly small in quantity.

In the exterior of the dome was repaired by workmen resting upon, a shifting iron frame. n a scaffold and observatory, as shown on page , were raised round the cross, and in months some observations were made for a new trigonometrical survey of London.

Harting, in his mentions the peregrine falcons of .

A pair of these birds,

for many years frequented the top of

St. Paul's

, where it was supposed they had a nest; and a gentleman with whom I am acquainted has assured me that a friend of his once saw a peregrine strike down a pigeon in London, his attention having been

first

attracted by seeing a crowd of persons gazing upwards at the hawk as it sailed in circles over the houses.

A few nooks and corners of the cathedral have still escaped us. The library in the gallery over the southern aisle was formed by Bishop Compton, and consists of some volumes, including some manuscripts from old . The room contains some loosely hung flowers, exquisitely carved in wood by Grinling Gibbons, and the floor is composed of pieces of oak, inlaid without nails or pegs. At the end of the gallery is a geometrical staircase of steps, which was constructed by Wren to furnish a private access to the library. In crossing thence to the northern gallery, there is a fine view of the entire vista of the cathedral. The model-room used to contain Wren's design, and some tattered flags once hung beneath the dome. Wren's noble model, we regret to learn, is

a ruin, after

one hundred and forty

years of neglect,

The great bell of (about tons) has a diameter of feet, and weighs . t was cast from the metal of Great Tom (Ton), a bell that once hung in a clock tower opposite

It was not this bell, but the Great Tom, which the sentinel on duty during the reign of William III. declared he heard strike instead of at midnight; and the truth of the fact was deposed to by several persons, and the life of the poor soldier, sentenced to death for having fallen asleep upon his post, was thus saved. The man's name was Hatfield. He died in in Aldersgate, aged years.

Before the time of the present , and as long ago as the reign of Henry VII., there is on record a well-attested story of a young girl who, going to confess, was importuned by the monk then on his turn there for the purpose of confession in the building; and quickly escaping from him up the stairs of the great clock tower, raised the clapper or hammer of the bell of the clock, just as it had finished striking , and, by means of the roof, eluded her assailant and got away. On accusing him, as soon as she reached her friends and home, she called attention to the fact of the clock having struck that time; and on those in the immediate neighbourhood of the cathedral being asked if so unusual a thing had been heard, they said it was so. This proved the story, and the monk was degraded.

And here we must insert a curious story of a monomaniac whose madness was associated with . Dr. Pritchard, in an essay on

Somnambulism and Animal Magnetism,

A gentleman about years of age, of active habits and good constitution, living in the neighbourhood of London, had complained for about weeks of a slight headache. He was feverish, inattentive to his occupation, and negligent of his family. He had been cupped, and taken some purgative medicine, when he was visited by Dr. Arnould, of Camberwell. By that gentleman's advice, he was sent to a private asylum, where he remained about years. His delusions very gradually subsided, and he was afterwards restored to his family. The account which he gave of himself was, almost , as follows :-- afternoon in the month of May, feeling himself a little unsettled, and not inclined to business, he thought he would take a walk into the City to amuse his mind; and having strolled into , he stopped at the shop-window of Carrington and Bowles, and looked at the pictures, among which was of the cathedral. e had not been long there before a short, gravelooking, elderly gentleman, dressed in dark brown clothes, came up and began to examine the prints, and, occasionally casting a glance at him, very soon entered into conversation with him; and, praising the view of which was exhibited at the window, told him many anecdotes of Sir Christopher Wren, the architect, and asked him at the same time if he had ever ascended to the top of the dome. He replied in the negative. The stranger then inquired if he had dined, and proposed that they should go to an eating-house in the neighbourhood, and said that after dinner he would accompany him up .

It was a glorious afternoon for a view, and he was so familiar with the place that he could point out every object worthy of attention.

Remember, you are the slave of the Man of the Mirror!

I inquired in what way his power was exercised. He cast on me a look of suspicion, mingled with confidence, took my arm, and after leading me through

two

or

three

rooms, and then into the garden, exclaimed,

It is of no use; The Scaffolding And Observatory On St. Paul's In 1848 (see page 256). there is no concealment from him, for all places are alike open to him; he sees us and he hears us now.

I asked him where this being was who saw and heard us. He replied, in a voice of deep agitation,

Have I not told you that he lives in the ball below the cross on the top of St. Paul's, and that he only comes down to take a walk in the churchyard and get his dinner at the house in the dark alley? Since that fatal interview with the necromancer,

he continued,

for such I believe him to be, he is continually dragging me before him on his mirror, and he not only sees me every moment of the day, but he reads all my thoughts, and I have a dreadful consciousness that no action of my life is free from his inspection, and no place St. Paul's and the Neighborhood in 1540. From a Copy, in the Possession of J. G. Crace, Esq., of the Earliest Known View of London, Taken by Van der Wyngarde for Philip II of Spain. can afford me security from his power.

On my replying that the darkness of the night would afford him protection from these machinations, he said,

I know what you mean, but you are quite mistaken. I have only told you of the mirror; but in some part of the building which we passed in coming away, he showed me what he called a great bell, and I heard sounds which came from it, and which went to it--sounds of laughter, and of anger, and of pain. There was a dreadful confusion of sounds, and as I listened, with wonder and affright, he said, This is my organ of hearing; this great bell is in communication with all other bells within the circle of hieroglyphics, by which every word spoken by those under my command is made audible to me.

Seeing me look surprised at him, he said,

I have not yet told you all, for he practises his spells by hieroglyphics on walls and houses, and wields his power, like a detestable tyrant, as he is, over the minds of those whom he has enchanted, and who are the objects of his constant spite, within the circle of the hieroglyphics.

I asked him what these hieroglyphics were, and how he perceived them. He replied,

Signs and symbols which you, in your ignorance of their true meaning, have taken for letters and words, and read, as you have thought, Day and Martin's and Warren's blacking.

Oh! that is all nonsense!

They are only the mysterious characters which he traces to mark the boundary of his dominion, and by which he prevents all escape from his tremendous power. How have I toiled and laboured to get beyond the limit of his influence! Once I walked for three days and three nights, till I fell down under a wall, exhausted by fatigue, and dropped asleep; but on awakening I saw the dreadful signs before mine eyes, and I felt myself as completely under his infernal spells at the end as at the beginning of my journey.

It is probable that this gentleman had actually ascended to the top of , and that impressions there received, being afterwards renewed in his mind when in a state of vivid excitement, in a dream of ecstatic reverie, became so blended with the creations of fancy as to form mysterious vision, in which the true and the imaginary were afterwards inseparable. Such, at least, is the best explanation of the phenomena which occurs to us.

In the fees for seeing completely were each person. In the mere twopences paid to see the monuments produced the vergers the sum of These exorbitant fees originated in the

stairs-foot money

The staff of the cathedral consists of the dean, the precentor, the chancellor, the treasurer, the archdeacons of London, Middlesex, Essex, Colchester, and St. Albans, major canons or prebendaries ( of whom are resident), minor canons, and vicars-choral, besides the choristers. of the vicars-choral officiates as organist, and of the minor canons hold the appointments of sub-dean, librarian, and succentor, or under-precentor.

of the most celebrated men connected with in the last century have been Milman, Sydney Smith, and Barham (the author of ). Smith and Barham both died in .

Of Sydney Smith's connection with we have many interesting records. of the things Lord Grey said on entering , to a relation who was with him, was,

Now shall be able to do something for Sydney Smith,

Mr. Cockerell, the architect, and superintendent of , in a letter printed in Lady Holland's describes the of the canon residentiary; how his early communications with himself (Mr. C.) and all the officers of the chapter were extremely unpleasant; but when the canon had investigated the matter, and there had been

a little collision,

if there were

six

inches of space there would be room enough for him.

he would reproduce the Deluge in our cathedral.

He had also the library heated by a stove, so as to be more comfortable to the studious; and the bindings of the books were repaired. Lastly, Mr.

It is very gratifying to read these circumstantial records of the practical qualities of Mr. Sydney Smith, as applied to the preservation of our magnificent metropolitan cathedral.

Before we leave Mr. Smith we may record an odd story of Lady B. calling the vergers

virgins.

Some enemy of the Church,

some Dissenter, had clearly been misleading her.

Let us recapitulate a few of the English poets who have made special allusions to in their writings. Denham says of the restoration of , began by Charles I.--

First salutes the place,

Crowned with that sacred pile, so vast, so high,

That whether 'tis a part of earth or sky

Uncertain seems, and may be thought a proud

Aspiring mountain or descending cloud.

Paul's, the late theme of such a muse, whose flight

Has bravely reached and soared above thy height,

Now shalt thou stand, though sword, or time, or fire,

Or zeal more fierce than they, thy fall conspire;

Secure, while thee the best of poets sings,

Preserved from ruin by the best of kings.

Byron, in the Tenth Canto of treats contemptuously-sneering, as was his affectation, at everything, human or divine:--

A mighty mass of brick, and smoke, and shipping,

Dirty and dusky, but as wide as eye

Could reach, with here and there a sail just skipping

In sight, then lost amidst the forestry

Of masts; a wilderness of steeples peeping

On tiptoe through their sea-coal canopy;

A huge, dim cupola, like a foolscap crown

On a fool's head-and there is London Town!

Among other English poets who have sung of , we must not forget Tom Hood, with his delightfully absurd ode, written on the cross, and full of most wise folly:--

The man that pays his pence and goes Up to thy lofty cross, St. Paul's, Looks over London's naked nose, Women and men; The world is all beneath his ken; He sits above the ball, He seems on Mount Olympus' top, Among the gods, by Jupiter! and lets drop His eyes from the empyreal clouds On mortal crowds.

Seen from these skies, How small those emmets in our eyes! Some carry little sticks, and one His eggs, to warm them in the sun; Dear, what a hustle And bustle! And there's my aunt! I know her by her waist, So long and thin, And so pinch'd in, Just in the pismire taste.

Oh, what are men! Beings so small That, should I fall, Upon their little heads, I must Crush them by hundreds into dust.

And what is life and all its ages! There's seven stages! Turnham Green! Chelsea! Putney! Fulham! Brentford and Kew! And Tooting, too! And, oh, what very little nags to pull 'era! Yet each would seem a horse indeed, If here at Paul's tip-top we'd got 'em! Although, like Cinderella's breed, They're mice at bottom. Then let me not despise a horse, Though he looks small from Paul's high cross; Since he would be, as near the sky, Fourteen hands high.

What is this world with London in its lap? Mogg's map. The Thames that ebbs and flows in its broad channel? A tidy kennel! The bridges stretching from its banks? Stone planks. Oh, me! Hence could I read an admonition To mad Ambition! But that he would not listen to my call, Though I should stand upon the cross, and ball!

We can hardly close our account of without referring to that most beautiful and touching of all London sights,. [extra_illustrations.1.261.2] . About children are generally present, ranged in a vast amphitheatre under the dome. Blake, the true but unrecognised predecessor of Wordsworth, has written an exquisite little poem on the scene, and well it deserves it. Such nosegays of little rosy faces can be seen on no other day. Very grand and overwhelming are the beadles of and St. Margaret Moses on this tremendous morning, and no young ensign ever bore his colours prouder than do these good-natured dignitaries their maces, staves, and ponderous badges. In endless ranks pour in the children, clothed in all sorts of quaint dresses. Boys in the kneebreeches of Hogarth's school-days, bearing glittering pewter badges on their coats; girls in blue and orange, with quaint little mob-caps white as snow, and long white gloves covering all their little arms. See, at a given signal of an extraordinary

Old Hundredth

Blake's poem begins-

'Twas on a Holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean, Came children walking two and two, in red and blue and green; Grey-headed beadles walked before, with wands as white as snow, Till into the high dome of Paul's they like Thames' waters flow.

Oh, what a multitude they seemed, those flowers of London town; Seated in companies they were, with radiance all their own; The hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs, Thousands of little boys and girls, raising their innocent hands.

Now like a mighty wind they raise to heaven the voice of song, Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heaven among; Beneath them sit the aged men, wise guardians of the poor; Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door.

The anniversary Festival of the Sons of the Clergy, in the middle of May, when the choirs of and the Chapel Royal sing selections from Handel and other great masters, is also a day not easily to be forgotten, for is excellent for sound, and the fine music rises like incense to the dome, and lingers there as

loth to die,

He thought not of a perishable home

Who thus could build.

[extra_illustrations.1.249.11] St. Paul's Cathedral

[extra_illustrations.1.249.1] St. Paul's Ground Plan

[extra_illustrations.1.249.2] St. Paul's Wren's Original Plan

[extra_illustrations.1.249.3] St. Paul's N.W. Porch

[extra_illustrations.1.249.14] St. Paul's Compared with St. Peter's

[extra_illustrations.1.249.4] St. Paul's from River

[extra_illustrations.1.249.5] St. Paul's from Street

[extra_illustrations.1.249.6] St. Paul's alone

[extra_illustrations.1.249.7] St. Paul's Frontage

[extra_illustrations.1.249.8] St. Paul's Interior

[extra_illustrations.1.249.9] St. Paul's on Book Titlepage

[extra_illustrations.1.249.10] Statue of Queen Anne

[extra_illustrations.1.249.12] Charles II.

[extra_illustrations.1.249.15] Charles II.

[extra_illustrations.1.249.13] great architect, Wren

[extra_illustrations.1.249.16] a Greek

[extra_illustrations.1.250.1] Queen Anne

[extra_illustrations.1.250.2] The dome

[extra_illustrations.1.250.3] Sir James Thornhill

[extra_illustrations.1.250.4] George I.

[extra_illustrations.1.251.1] Lord Howe's

[extra_illustrations.1.251.2] Sir Horatio Nelson

[extra_illustrations.1.251.3] Wren

[extra_illustrations.1.251.4] Dr. Johnson

[extra_illustrations.1.251.5] Rodney

[extra_illustrations.1.251.6] Mosse and Riou

[extra_illustrations.1.251.8] Nelson himself

[extra_illustrations.1.251.9] Lord Collingwood

[extra_illustrations.1.251.7] Richard Rundel Burgess

[extra_illustrations.1.252.2] Sir Ralph Abercromby

[extra_illustrations.1.252.5] Wellington

[extra_illustrations.1.252.3] a tomb in St. Paul's

[extra_illustrations.1.252.1] Designs for Wellington Monument

[extra_illustrations.1.252.4] Cornwallis

[extra_illustrations.1.253.1] Sir Joshua Reynolds

[extra_illustrations.1.254.1] Service in St. Paul's

[extra_illustrations.1.255.1] Section of Dome

[extra_illustrations.1.255.3] Interior of St. Paul's from under the DOme

[extra_illustrations.1.255.4] a lantern

[extra_illustrations.1.255.2] an observatory

[extra_illustrations.1.256.1] Repainting Thornhill's Frescoes 1856

[extra_illustrations.1.256.2] Mosaic Workers in Dome

[extra_illustrations.1.257.2] Blessing Bell

[extra_illustrations.1.257.1] New Bell

[extra_illustrations.1.261.1] Procession of Convocation 1857

[extra_illustrations.1.261.2] the anniversary of the charity schools on the first Thursday in June