describing and no forgetting the effect of one of those sublime
religious strains that seem to burst forth from you know not where,
and swell and grow fuller and louder, and then more and more
distant, and fainter and fainter, till you think it dying in the
distance, and then gush out with an overwhelming fulness of harmony
and beauty. One feels as if he would hear such strains at the hour
of death.

Our next object was St. Paul's. How different! how very different!
In a Gothic building, you think that the artist, who designed it,
had in mind the idea of the solemn forest where the crossing
branches produce all those beautiful lines and forms, which so
delight your eye, and where the dim, mysterious light awakens and
accords with the religious sentiment; but the effect of the great
dome, which suggests the open sky, is entirely opposite. The effect
upon your mind of standing in the middle of St. Paul's is very
impressive; but what moved me most was the sound of the people
without the walls. No one of our party spoke, and the noise of the
busy multitude without was like the waves of the ocean. I had heard
the voice of many waters while coming over the Atlantic, and there
is no exaggeration; it is just such a sound, such an ebbing and
flowing, and yet such a full and constant roar, as the waves make
after continued high winds. It was truly sublime, this concentrated
sound of this living multitude of human beings, these breathings and
heavings of the heart of the mighty monster, London.

We were shown all over the cathedral; we first ascended to the
inside gallery, and walked around, looking down upon the whole
interior; we then visited the clock, and we heard and felt the
quiver of its tremendous voice. We next entered the famous