_The curiosities in this cathedral which strangers pay for seeing._ On entering the south door, there is a pair of stairs within a small door on the right, leading to the cupola, and the stranger by paying two pence may gratify his curiosity with a prospect from the iron gallery at the foot of the lanthorn, which in a clear day affords a fine view of the river, of this whole metropolis and all the adjacent country, interspersed with pleasant villages. The ascent to this gallery is by 534 steps, 260 of which are so easy that a child may without difficulty ascend them; but those above are unpleasant, and in some places very dark; but the little light that is afforded is sufficient to shew amazing proofs of the wonderful contrivances of the architect. But as the first gallery, surrounded by a stone balustrade, affords a very fine prospect, many are satisfied, and unwilling to undergo the fatigue of mounting higher. On the stranger’s descent he is invited to see the whispering gallery, which will likewise cost two pence; he here beholds to advantage the beautiful pavement of the church, and from hence he has the most advantageous view of the fine paintings in the cupola. Here sounds are magnified to an astonishing degree; the least whisper is heard round the whole circumference; the voice of one person softly speaking against the wall on the other side, seems as if he stood at our ear on this, though the distance between them is no less than an hundred and forty feet: and the shutting of the door resounds through the place like thunder, or as if the whole fabric was falling asunder. To this gallery there is an easy ascent for persons of distinction, by a most beautiful flight of stairs. The stranger is next invited to see the library, the books of which are neither numerous nor valuable; but the floor is artfully inlaid without either nails or pegs, and the wainscoting and book cases are not inelegant. The next curiosity is the fine model Sir Christopher first caused to be made for building the new cathedral. It was not taken from St. Peter’s at Rome, as is pretended; but was Sir Christopher’s own invention, and the model on which he set the highest value; and it is a great pity, that what was performed as the utmost exertion of the abilities of this great architect, should be suffered to run to decay. He is next shewn the great bell in the south tower, which weighs 84 c. weight. On this bell the hammer of the great clock strikes the hour, and on a smaller bell are struck the quarters. The last thing shewn, are what are vulgarly called the geometry stairs, which are so artfully contrived as to hang together without visible support; but this kind of stairs, however curious in themselves, are neither new nor uncommon. _Parentalia. Historical account of the curiosities of London_, &c.