"Oh, yes!" continued Mrs. Pitt, "the services went on just the same. The people were used to the noise and confusion. Here came the tailors to look at the fine new clothes which the young dandies wore when they took their morning promenades. All the latest books and poems were always to be found on sale here. Bishop Earle wrote 'Paul's Walke--you may cal--the lesser Ile of Great Brittaine. The noyse in it is like that of Bees, in strange hummings, or buzze, mixt of walking, tongues, and feet; it is a kind of still roare, or loud whisper.' "I am glad to be able to say, however," she continued, "that before that dreadful period, there was a time when the cathedral was not so dishonored. Once these walls were covered with valuable shrines, pictures, and tapestries, and costly jewels glittered everywhere. There was one huge emerald which was said to cure diseases of the eyes. Here came John Wycliffe, the great reformer, at the summons of the Archbishop of Canterbury, to answer for the publication of his new doctrines. Here, Henry of Bolingbroke prayed for his successful seizure of the throne, and here he also wept over the grave of his father, John of Gaunt. Sir Philip Sidney was buried here, and his father-in-law, Sir Francis Walsingham, Queen Elizabeth's secretary; and there was a magnificent monument to Sir Christopher Hatton, Lord Chancellor, but these were all destroyed by the Great Fire." About the aisles and nave are many monuments to great soldiers, sailors, painters, statesmen, literary men, and others. Most of them are very ugly, and our party did not linger long over these. After walking under the dome, and looking up into its tremendous heights, they went down into the crypt, which is really the most interesting part of the cathedral. The crypt is vast, dark, and gloomy. Other parties may be heard walking about and talking in the distance, without being seen, and their voices echo strangely. In the "Painters' Corner," Sir Joshua Reynolds, West, Lawrence, Landseer, and Turner, all famous artists, lie buried beneath the pavement. Sir Christopher Wren, surrounded by members of his family, lies under the dome, as was his wish. Lord Nelson and the Duke of Wellington both have splendid tombs there. "These are all we now have of the monuments of the old cathedral," remarked Mrs. Pitt, pointing to where in a corner some mutilated figures, heads, and broken monuments lay, all in a heap.