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There is also another chapel in the centre, which is, in some respects, the most interesting of all. It is marked H on the plan. Here the bodies of a great number of the ancient kings of England are interred.

As Rollo and Mr. George walked about among these monuments and tombstones, now that there was no congregation of worshippers present to give a living character to the scene, the whole aspect and feeling of the chapels and aisles through which they wandered seemed cold, and damp, and subterranean, so as to impress them continually with the idea that they were in chambers consecrated, not to the living, but to the dead. In fact, Westminster Abbey, whatever may have been its original design, is now little else than a tomb—a grand and imposing, but damp and gloomy, tomb. It is so completely filled in every part with funeral monuments that the whole aspect and character of it are entirely changed; so that, from being a temple consecrated to the service of God, it has become a vast sepulchre, devoted almost wholly to commemorating the glory of man.

Mr. George did not go to St. Paul's that afternoon to church, as he had at first intended. He said that one such display as he had witnessed at Westminster Abbey was spectacle enough for one Sunday. He accordingly determined to postpone his visit to the great cathedral of the city till the next day; and on that afternoon he took Rollo to a small dissenting chapel in the vicinity of their lodgings, where the service consisted of simple prayers offered by the pastor as the organ of the assembled worshippers, of hymns sung in concert by all the congregation, and of a plain and practical sermon, urging upon the hearers the duty of penitence for sin, and of seeking pardon and salvation through a spiritual union with Jesus the Redeemer.

"Well," said Mr. George to Rollo, as he came out of the chapel when the congregation was dismissed, "the service at the abbey, with all those chantings and intonations of the performers, and all the ceremonies, and dresses, and solemn paradings, makes a more imposing spectacle, I grant; but it seems to me that the service that we have heard this afternoon is modelled much more closely after the pattern of the meeting which Jesus held with his disciples the night before he was betrayed. At any rate, it satisfies much more fully, as it seems to me, the spiritual hungerings and thirstings of the human soul."

Chapter VIII.
Calculations

"Now, Rollo," said Mr. George, after breakfast Monday morning, "we will go into the city and see St. Paul's this morning. I suppose it is nearly two miles from here," he continued. "We can go down in one of the steamers on the river for sixpence, or we can go in an omnibus for eightpence, or in a cab for a shilling. Which do you vote for?"

"I vote for going on the river," said Rollo.

"Now I think of it," said Mr. George, "I must stop on the way, just below Temple Bar; so we shall have to take a cab."

Temple Bar is an old gateway which stands at the entrance of the city. It was originally a part of the wall that surrounded the city. The rest of the wall has long since been removed; but this gateway was left standing, as an ancient and venerable relic. The principal street leading from the West End to the city passes through it under an archway; and the sidewalks, through smaller arches, are at the sides. The great gates are still there, and are sometimes shut. The whole building is very much in the way, and it will probably, before long, be pulled down. In America it would be down in a week; but in England there is so much reverence felt for such remains of antiquity that the inconvenience which they produce must become very great before they can be removed.

Mr. George and Rollo took a cab and rode towards the city. Just after passing Temple Bar, Mr. George got out of the cab and went into an office. Rollo got out too, and amused himself walking up and down the sidewalk, looking in at the shop windows, while Mr. George was doing his business.

When Mr. George came out Rollo had got into the cab again, and was just at that moment giving a woman a penny, who stood at the window of the cab on the street side. The woman had a child in her arms.

When Rollo first saw the woman, she came up to the window of the cab—where he had taken his seat after he had looked at the shop windows as much as he pleased—and held up a bunch of violets towards him, as if she wished him to buy them. Rollo shook his head. The woman did not offer the violets again, but looked down towards her babe with an expression of great sadness in her face, and then looked imploringly again towards Rollo, without, however, speaking a word.

Rollo put his hand in his pocket and took out a penny and gave it to her. The woman said "Thank you," in a faint tone of voice, and went away.

It was just at this moment that Mr. George came out to the cab.

"Rollo," said Mr. George, "did not you know it was wrong to give money to beggars in the streets?"

"Yes," said Rollo; "but this time I could not resist the temptation, she looked so piteously at her poor little baby."

Mr. George said no more, but took his seat, and the cab drove on.

"Uncle George," said Rollo, after a little pause, "I saw some very pretty gold chains in a window near here; there was one just long enough for my watch. Do you think I had better buy it?"

"What was the price of it?" asked Mr. George.

"It was marked one pound fifteen shillings," said Rollo; "that is about eight dollars and a half."

"It must be a very small chain," said Mr. George.

"It was small," said Rollo; "just right for my watch and me."

"Well, I don't know," said Mr. George, in a hesitating tone, as if he were considering whether the purchase would be wise or not. "You have got money enough."

"Yes," said Rollo; "besides my credit on your book, I have got in my pocket two sovereigns and two pennies, and, besides that, your due bill for four shillings."

"Yes," said Mr. George, "I must pay that due bill."

What Rollo meant by a due bill was this: Mr. George was accustomed to keep his general account with Rollo in a book which he carried with him for this purpose, and from time to time he would pay Rollo such sums as he required in sovereigns, charging the amount in the book. It often happened, however, in the course of their travels, that Mr. George would have occasion to borrow some of this money of Rollo for the purpose of making change, or Rollo would borrow small sums of Mr. George. In such cases the borrower would give to the lender what he called a due bill, which was simply a small piece of paper with the sum of money borrowed written upon it, and the name of the borrower, or his initials, underneath. When Mr. George gave Rollo such a due bill for change which he had borrowed of him, Rollo would keep the due bill in his purse with his money until Mr. George, having received a supply of change, found it convenient to pay it.

The due bill which Rollo referred to in the above conversation was as follows:—

Mr. George adopted the plan of giving or receiving a due bill in all cases where he borrowed money of Rollo or lent money to him, in order to accustom Rollo to transact all his business in a regular and methodical manner, and to avoid the possibility of any mistake or any difference of opinion between them in respect to the question whether the money was actually borrowed, or whether it had not been repaid. I strongly recommend to all the readers of this book to adopt some such plan as this in all their pecuniary transactions with others, whether they are great or small, and to adhere to it very rigidly. This rule is especially important when the parties having pecuniary transactions with each other are friends; and the more intimate their friendship is, the more important is this rule.

It is true, it would not be polite and proper for you to ask for such a memorandum of a friend to whom you casually lend some small sum, but you can always offer it when you borrow; and in all cases, where you have frequent dealings of this kind with any person, you can agree upon this plan beforehand, as a general rule.

But let us return to Rollo and the watch chain.

"Well," said Mr. George, after some hesitation, "I am by no means sure that it would not be a good plan for you to buy the watch chain. A gold chain is an article of permanent and intrinsic value. It will last a very long time. Perhaps you would get as much enjoyment from it as from any thing you could buy with that money. At any rate, the money is your own; you have saved it from your travelling expenses by your prudence and economy; and it is right for you to expend it as you take a fancy. If you take a fancy to the chain, I do not know why it would not be a good purchase."

"I think I should like the chain very much," said Rollo.

"Let us see," said Mr. George, in a musing sort of tone; "there is another way to look at these questions. What is the interest of eight dollars and a half?"

"I don't know," said Rollo. "How much is it?"

"Let me see," said Mr. George; "seven times six are forty-two—say fifty; and then we must add something for wear, and tear, and depreciation. I should think," he added, after a moment's reflection, "that the chain would cost you about sixty cents a year, as long as you keep it."

"How so?" said Rollo.

"Why, the money that you will pay for it will produce about fifty cents a year, if you keep it at interest; and of course, if you buy a chain with the money, you stop all that income."

"Yes," said Rollo, "I understand that for the fifty cents: and now for the other ten. You said sixty cents."

"Why, the chain will be gradually wearing out all the time, while you use it," said Mr. George, "and I estimated that it would lose about ten cents a year. That makes up the sixty."

"Yes," said Rollo, "I suppose it would."

"You see," continued Mr. George, "that the little links and rings, where the chief wear comes, will gradually become thinner and thinner, and at last the time would come when you could not use it for a chain any longer. You would then have to sell it for old gold; and for that purpose it would not be worth, probably, more than half what you now give for it.

"So you see," continued Mr. George, "you would lose the interest on the money you pay for the chain every year; and besides that, you would lose a portion of the chain itself. When you have money safely invested at interest, you have the interest every year, and at the end of the term you have your capital restored to you entire. But in such a purchase as this, you are sure, in the end, to sink a portion of it by wear, and tear, and depreciation; and this circumstance ought always to be taken into account."

"Yes," said Rollo; "that is very true."

"Making such a calculation as this," continued Mr. George, "will often help us determine whether it is wise or not to make a purchase. The question is, whether you would get as much pleasure from the possession and use of this chain as sixty cents a year would come to."

"Yes," said Rollo; "I think I should."

"That would be five cents a month," said Mr. George.

"Yes," repeated Rollo; "I think I should."

"And one cent and a quarter a week," added Mr. George. "Do you think you would get pleasure enough out of your chain to come to a cent and a quarter a week?"

"Yes," said Rollo, confidently; "I am sure I should."

"I think it very likely you would," said Mr. George; "and if so, it would be a wise purchase."

It was not necessary absolutely that Rollo should obtain his uncle George's approval of any plan which he might form for the expenditure of his surplus funds, since it was Mr. Holiday's plan that Rollo should spend his money as he chose, provided only that he did not buy any thing that would either be injurious or dangerous to himself, or a source of annoyance to others. Now, in respect to the chain, Rollo knew very well himself that it was not liable to either of these objections, and that he was consequently at liberty to purchase it if he thought best. In the conversation, therefore, described above, his object was not so much to obtain his uncle's consent that he should make the purchase as to avail himself of his uncle's opinion and judgment in the case, in order to enable him to judge wisely himself.

"I think," said he, at length, in announcing to his uncle his decision, "that it will be a good plan for me to buy the chain; but I will not be in haste about it. I will wait a day or two. I may possibly see something else that I shall like better."

Chapter IX.
St. Paul's

Mr. George and Rollo, just before they reached St. Paul's, had a very unexpected addition made to their party. The person was no other than Rollo's mother.

Rollo's father and mother had come from Paris to London the day before, though Rollo had not expected them so soon as this. It might have been supposed that in making the tour they would keep in company with Mr. George and Rollo all the time; but this was not the plan which they adopted. Mr. Holiday's health was still quite feeble, and he wished to travel in a very quiet and easy manner. Mr. George and Rollo, on the other hand, were full of life and spirits. They wished to go every where, and to see every thing, and had very little fear of either fatigue or exposure.

"It will be better, therefore," said Mr. Holiday, "that we should act independently of each other. You may go your way, and we will go ours. We shall meet occasionally, and then you can relate us your adventures."

In accordance with this plan, Rollo's father and mother remained in Paris a few days after Mr. George and Rollo had left that city; and now they had just arrived in London. Jane came with them. And now it happened, by a very remarkable coincidence, that Mr. George and Rollo met them in St. Paul's Churchyard when they were going to visit the cathedral.

St. Paul's Churchyard is a street. It surrounds the yard in which St. Paul's stands, and is bordered on the outer side by ranges of magnificent shops and houses. Thus the street has buildings on one side, and the monstrous iron palisade which forms the enclosure of St. Paul's on the other, all around it.

The yard in which St. Paul's stands is in general of an oval form, though not regularly so. One side curves a great deal, while the other side is nearly straight. The street, of course, corresponds with the outline of the yard, being nearly straight on one side of the church, and quite of a crescent form on the other—being shaped thus somewhat like a bow. They call the curved side of the street the Bow, and the straight side the String. The Bow is on the south side of the church, and the String is on the north side.

Some of the most splendid shops in London are situated in this street, particularly in the part of it called the String. There are shops for the sale of books and engravings, of millinery of all kinds, of laces and embroideries of every sort, of caps and bonnets, and of silver plate and jewelry. It seems a little strange to the visitor to see so great a display of such vanities as these in a street called a Churchyard; but there are a great many such apparent inconsistencies between the names and uses of the streets in London.

It was in St. Paul's Churchyard that Rollo met his mother. The cab which he and his uncle were in had stopped opposite the great gate which led to the church. Rollo stepped out first; and while he was waiting for his uncle George, he saw his mother just coming out of one of the shops on the other side.

"Why, uncle George!" said he; "there's mother!"

So saying, he ran across the street to meet his mother.

Mrs. Holiday was overjoyed to see Rollo coming; so was Jennie, who was sitting all the time in the carriage with Mr. Holiday. After some conversation on other subjects, Rollo told his mother that he and Mr. George were going to see St. Paul's.

"I might go too," said his mother.

"Yes, mother!" said Rollo, eagerly. "Do, mother!"

"I would go," said Mr. Holiday. "It will be a very good opportunity for you—the best you will have, in fact; for I shall not be able to go up so many stairs myself. Jennie can go home with me."

Jennie did not like this part of the proposal, but seemed very desirous to go with her mother.

"Why, Jennie!" said her mother. "I do not think you could climb so high. I don't think you know how high it is."

"Ah, yes, mother," said Rollo, "she can climb very well; besides, I can help her if she gets tired."

It was finally agreed that Jennie should go too; and so the whole party, excepting Mr. Holiday, walked across the street and began to ascend the great flight of circular steps which led to the door in the north transept of the church, that being the door at which strangers and visitors are usually admitted.

On entering the church, they found themselves ushered into an interior so vast in extent, and so lofty in height, as to overwhelm them with wonder. They walked along over the smooth stone pavement towards the centre of the cross, and there stood and looked up into the dome, which swelled in a vast concave far up over their heads, like a sky of stone. The ceiling of the dome was divided into compartments, which were covered with paintings. These paintings had become a good deal faded and decayed; and on one side of the dome, nearly two hundred feet above where the party was standing, there was a platform hanging in the air, with workmen and artists upon it repainting the figures. From the place where he now stood, however, Rollo could only see the under side of this platform and some of the ropes by which it was suspended.

"Do you see that gallery," said Mr. George to Rollo, pointing upwards, "which runs all around just under the dome?"

"I see a small railing, or balustrade," said Mrs. Holiday.

"There is a gallery there," said Mr. George, "eight or ten feet wide, though we do not see the width of it very distinctly here. And the railing, or balustrade, which looks so small here, we shall find is not very small when we come to get up to it."

"Can we get up there?" said Mrs. Holiday.

"Yes," replied Mr. George. "That must be the celebrated whispering gallery."

"How do you know?" asked Rollo.

"I have read descriptions of it in books," said Mr. George. "They said that the whispering gallery was a gallery passing entirely around the centre of the church, over the choir, and just under the dome; and so that must be it. All that is the dome that rises above it."

"Let us go up there, then," said Rollo.

The party walked about the floor of the church a few minutes longer, though they found but little to interest them in what they saw except the vastness of the enclosed interior and the loftiness of the columns and walls. There were several colossal monuments standing here and there; but in general the church had a somewhat empty and naked appearance. The immense magnitude, however, of the spaces which the party traversed, and the lofty heights of the columns, and arches, and ceilings which they looked up to above, filled them with wonder.

At length, near the foot of a staircase, in a sort of corner, they found a man in a little office, whose business it was to sell to visitors tickets of admission, to enable them to view such parts of the church, especially those situated in the upper regions of it, as it would not be proper to leave entirely open to the public. For these places attendants are required, to guard the premises from injury, as well as to show the visitors the way they are to go and to explain to them what they see; and for this a fee is charged, according in tariff, which is set down in the guide books thus:–

COST OF ADMISSION

Mr. George knew in general that this was the arrangement for showing the church to visitors; but he had not examined the tariff particularly to know what the prices were which were charged for the several parts of the show. He did not care particularly about this, however, for he meant to see all.

Accordingly, when the party came up to the little office where the man sold the tickets, and the man asked them how much they wished to see, Mr. George turned to Mrs. Holiday, saying,—

"We wish to see all, I suppose, do we not?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Holiday; "let us see all there is to be seen."

"Then it will be nine shillings and sixpence," said the ticket man; "three shillings and twopence each for the three. I shall not charge for the young lady. I presume, moreover," he added, with a smile, "that she will not wish to go up into the ball."

So Mr. George took out his purse, and Mrs. Holiday took out hers at the same time.

"I will pay," said Mr. George.

"We will all pay," said Mrs. Holiday. "The easiest way to keep our accounts is for each to pay as we go."

So Mrs. Holiday, Mr. George, and Rollo paid each three shillings and twopence, and the man gave them a variety of tickets in return.

"Those," said he, "are for the gallery," pointing out the tickets at the same time as he presented them; "and those are for the ball. These are for the crypt. You keep these till you get down stairs."

Rollo wondered what the crypt could be; but, as he considered the whole party as now under Mr. George's guidance, he thought he would not inquire, but wait until he should see.

There are several different staircases in St. Paul's by which one can ascend to the upper portions of the edifice. Our party began immediately to mount by one which commenced very near to the place where they had bought their tickets. The stairs were circular, being built in a sort of round tower which stood in the angle of the cross.

Rollo took Jane by the hand and went before, while Mr. George and Mrs. Holiday followed.

"Round and round, round and round, higher and higher above the ground," said Rollo to Jennie.

"Go slowly," said Mr. George, "or else you will get very tired before you get to the top."

"The stairs are very easy," said Mrs. Holiday.

"Yes," said Mr. George; "they are very easy indeed."

The stairs were, indeed, very easy—the steps being very broad, and the "rise," as it is called, of each one being very small. Rollo and Jennie went on very gayly; and, as they kept about half a turn, of the staircase in advance, they were generally just out of sight of Mr. George and Mrs. Holiday, who followed somewhat more slowly behind. Jennie would have been afraid to have gone thus out of sight of her mother and uncle were it not that she could hear their voices all the time close at hand, and their footsteps, also, on the stairs.

From time to time, as our party ascended, they met other parties coming down. When there were children in these descending parties, they tripped along very lightly in coming down; but Rollo and Jennie soon found themselves growing quite tired. So they stopped to rest. After stopping a moment, Rollo's mind seemed to swing, like a pendulum, to the opposite extreme.

"Let us run, Jennie," said he, "and then we shall get up quicker."

"No, it will tire us more to run," replied Jennie.

"But then we shall get up all the quicker," said Rollo, "and so it will not make any difference. We may as well work hard and have it over quick as to work not so hard and have it last a great while."

"Well," said Jennie, "then let us run."

This reasoning of Rollo's was very specious and plausible, but it was very erroneous notwithstanding; for it is found by experience that the whole amount of fatigue which results from doing any given piece of work is by no means the same when it is done quickly as when it is done slowly. A horse, for example, if you allow him to jog along slowly, at the rate of three or four miles an hour, can travel forty miles a day, for months at a time, without growing thin; but if you drive him at the rate of eight miles an hour, he cannot stand more than ten miles a day for any long period. That is, he can do four times as much in amount, with the same degree of fatigue, if you allow him to do it slowly.

It is curious that the case is precisely the same with a steam engine. A steamer can cross the Atlantic with a very much smaller supply of coal, if she goes slowly, than if she goes fast. One might imagine that it would take just twice as much coal to go ten miles an hour as would be required to go five; but in reality it takes more than four times as much—the higher rate of speed requiring a very disproportionate expenditure of power.

If, therefore, you have a long way to walk, or a high ascent to climb, and are afraid that your strength may not hold out;—

Or if you have a horse to drive a long journey, and are afraid that he will tire out before he gets to the end of it;—

Or if you have a steamer to propel, and are not sure that you have coal enough to last to the end of the voyage;—

In these, and in all similar cases, the more slowly you go, the farther the force you have will carry you before it becomes exhausted.

Rollo and Jennie went on running for a few minutes, as they ascended the staircase, round and round; but their strength was soon spent by this violent exertion, and they sat down on the stairs entirely exhausted. And yet they had not come up very high. The whole height of this first staircase, which the party were now ascending, was only about as much as a house four stories high; whereas the whole height of the church, to the very top, is equal to that of a house—if such a house there could be—forty stories high. So that thus far they had come not one tenth part of the way to the top.

While Rollo and Jennie were sitting on the stairs, resting from their fatigue, they began to hear, after a time, the voices of Mr. George and Mrs. Holiday, ascending.

"Are we nearly at the top?" said Rollo.

"I don't know," said Mr. George. "Stay till you get rested, and then follow on."

So saying, Mr. George and Mrs. Holiday passed by, ascending the stairs very slowly, step by step, as they had begun.

Rollo and Jennie were not willing to be left behind; so they followed immediately; and after a few more turns they found themselves, to their great joy, at the top of the staircase. They came out in a large garret-like looking room, which was over the south transept of the church. You can see the end of the south transept in the engraving. It is the part which you see projecting from the main body of the church on the right, with a circular portico leading to it. There is a similar circular portico, with circular steps outside, at the entrance to the north transept, on the other side of the church, which, however, is not shown in the engraving.

ST PAUL'S.

The party passed under a great archway which led towards the centre of the church, and presently they came to another long and garret-like looking hall, or corridor, with great arches of masonry passing over it from one side to the other at regular intervals along its whole length, like the beams and rafters of wood in an ordinary garret. This great vacant space was directly over one of the side aisles of the church.⁴

"What a monstrous long garret!" said Rollo.

"Yes," said Mr. George; "and there is something very curious about this garret, as you call it, which I will explain to you some other time."

Rollo was very willing to have this explanation postponed; for his attention was just now attracted by some curious-looking tools, consisting of axes, hammers, and saws, which were arranged in a very symmetrical manner, in a sort of circle, on the wall near him. There were two or three men in this part of the building, and one of them came forward to show this party which way they were to go. Rollo asked this man what these tools were for. He said they were to be used in case of fire.

The tools were very antique and venerable in their form, and looked as if they might have been hanging where they were untouched for centuries.

"Yes," said Rollo; "and there are some buckets, too, for the same purpose."

So saying, he pointed to a row of buckets which he saw hanging along the wall on the other side.

"Yes," said Jennie; "and there is a little fire engine."

The man who had undertaken to guide them now led the way, and the party followed him, till they came to the clock tower, which is the one that is seen in the engraving in the front of the building, towards the right. Then he conducted them, after passing through various galleries and chambers, to a large and handsome room, with a table and some chairs in the middle of it, and carved bookcases filled with very ancient-looking books all round the sides. As soon as the party had all entered the room the guide turned round towards them, and, in a very formal and monotonous manner, like a schoolboy reciting a speech which he had committed to memory for a declamation, made the following statement:—

"This room is the library room of the dean and chapter. It is fifty feet long and forty feet wide. The floor is of oak. It is made of two thousand three hundred and seventy-six square pieces, curiously inlaid, without a nail or a peg to fasten them together."

After looking about for a little time in this room, in which, after all, there was nothing very remarkable or interesting except the idea that it was situated in one of the towers of St. Paul's, the party were conducted across the end of the church towards the other tower seen in the engraving; that is, the tower on the left, which is used as a belfry. In passing through from one of these towers to the other, the party traversed a sort of gallery which was built here across the end of the church, and which afforded a very commanding view of the whole interior of the edifice. The whole party stopped a moment in this gallery to look down into the church below. They could see through the whole length of it, five hundred feet; and Rollo and Jennie were very much amused at the groups of people that were walking about here and there, like mites, on the marble floor. They could see, at a great distance, the place where the transepts crossed the main building; but of course they could not see far into the transepts. In the same manner they could see the beginning of the dome; but they could not see very far up into it, the view being cut off by the vaulted roof of the nave, which was nearer.