produced by the numerous carriages passing and repassing without. The
concavity of the dome, I suppose, condensed the sound into a subdued
thunder, like that which one hears at a short distance from the Falls
of Niagara. Against the huge pillars, and in various niches, were the
statues of eminent men; some of them erected by the nation, as a
commemoration of naval or military services, and others as tributes to
great personal worth, or to public benefactors. Among the statues of the
men of peace, that of Dr. Samuel Johnson, the great lexicographer,
particularly interested me. The celebrated moralist is represented
seated. One hand holds a scroll, the other rests upon a pedestal. The
likeness is said to be well preserved. The sculptor was Bacon. There was
the capacious forehead, the thick bushy eyebrows, the large mouth, the
double chin, the clumsy person, and the thick, ungainly legs, which had
been rendered familiar to me through the portraits which I had seen in
the Johnsonia. As I gazed on that marble tribute to genius and worth, I
could not but remember, Charley, how Johnson had frequently walked the
streets of London all night, because he had not the wherewithal to pay
for a lodging. Near to Johnson's monument was that of Howard the
philanthropist. We noticed a very fine one to Sir Joshua Reynolds; also
statues to Bishop Heber, Abercrombie, Cornwallis, Sir John Moore, Sir
Astley Cooper, Sir Thomas Lawrence, and Benjamin West.

[Illustration: Dr. Samuel Johnson.]

But the greatest attraction of St. Paul's is the sarcophagus, in which
repose the remains of England's greatest naval hero, Lord Nelson.
Situated immediately beneath the centre of the great dome is a
diamond-shaped tablet, which marks the spot beneath which rests, after
his career of glory, the hero of the Nile and Trafalgar. His body rests
in a sarcophagus in the vaults below. Exactly beneath the tablet lies
the huge coffin, with the name "NELSON" engraven on its side.
No epitaph, no labored panegyric, no fulsome praise; and Englishmen, I
think, were right in supposing that the simple name of their hero was
enough for fame. This sarcophagus was made by Cardinal Wolsey; and here
Nelson was placed, in a coffin made out of the mainmast of the French
ship, L'Orient.

The grim verger recommended us to ascend to the dome, and, after paying
fresh fees, we mounted an enormously long and steep-winding staircase,
which led us to the base of the dome. Here was a c