At the end of the aisle are the monuments of a few famous statesmen. Among them are Mackintosh the historian, Tierney the orator, Lord Holland, Zachary Macaulay, friend of Wilberforce, and father of the great historian; and Charles James Fox. The great rivals, Fox and Pitt, as we have seen, are buried near each other in the transept. Their monuments are also near together—that of Pitt, by Westmacott, represents the great orator trampling on the French Revolution, in the attitude well known to the House of Commons at that day.
Passing some immense military memorials of little interest nowadays, and the busts of Canon Kingsley and the poet Wordsworth, we now turn along the southern wall of the nave. Here is the monument of the dramatic poet Congreve, and that of Admiral Tyrrell, who was buried at sea in 1766, always attracts the notice of visitors. Many allegorical emblems surround the representation of the Admiral's resurrection from the depths of the sea. The clouds above are so like pancakes as to have given the tomb its familiar name of "The Pancake Monument." Farther east we reach the monument of the unfortunate Major André, executed as a spy by General Washington in the War of Independence. The monument has been frequently injured and repaired, as the heads of Washington or André have been again and again broken off by persons having strong sympathies for one side or the other.
In the south aisle of the choir we pass on the left the curious monument of Thomas Thynne, representing in relief the murder of that gentleman in Pall Mall. In this aisle also is the monument of the well-known Dr. Watts. It was erected here a century after his death; and still more recently two other great Dissenters were commemorated close by—John and Charles Wesley—the former the founder of the religious society that bears his name, and the latter justly called "the sweet singer of Methodism."
Passing the remarkable monument which shows us Admiral Shovel dressed as a dandy of the period, and reclining on cushions under a canopy, we enter the south transept, or Poets' Corner. Geoffrey Chaucer was the pioneer of the children of genius in this hallowed spot. He was buried here in 1400. Nearly two hundred years passed on, then Spenser was laid near by. As we gaze round us we behold such a crowd of honoured names that it is difficult to select any for special mention. Just at our feet is the black marble slab that covers the grave of Charles Dickens. Close by lie the historians Grote and Lord Macaulay. Other gravestones cover the mortal remains of the wit Sheridan, the learned Dr. Johnson, Old Parr (who lived under ten kings and queens, from Edward IV. to Charles I.), &c. The monument of Cowley recalls his grand funeral, which was attended by about a hundred coaches full of nobility and eminent personages. Close by is a noble bust with the simple inscription—"J. Dryden." The monuments to Milton and Shakespeare were erected here by admirers long after their death, and are quite unworthy of their fame. Gray, Thomson, Goldsmith, and many other poets who were not buried here, are commemorated on the walls and columns. The beautiful bust of the poet Longfellow is one of the most recent additions to the interesting features of Poets' Corner. A tablet to Granville Sharp reminds us how that good man exerted himself on behalf of the slave Somerset, and procured from twelve English judges the famous decision "that as soon as any slave sets his foot on English ground he is free." The allegorical pile in memory of the "Great Duke of Argyll" strikes the eye of every visitor. The monument to Dr. Busby, the famous Westminster schoolmaster, is a fine piece of sculpture. Addison represents Sir Roger de Coverley as standing before it and saying, "Dr. Busby! a great man; he whipped my grandfather; a very great man! I should have gone to him myself, if I had not been a blockhead—a very great man." If we turn round we see the statue of Addison himself, by Westmacott, in the farther corner of the transept. He was very fond of meditating in the old Abbey, and in the Spectator are many beautiful thoughts suggested by his visits to the place. I will conclude our survey of the tombs with a few of his words:—"When I look upon the tombs of the great, every emotion of envy dies within me; when I read the epitaph of the beautiful every inordinate desire goes out; when I meet with the grief of parents upon a tombstone, my heart melts with compassion; when I see the tomb of the parents themselves I consider the vanity of grieving for those whom we must quickly follow. When I see kings lying by those who have deposed them, when I consider rival wits placed side by side, or the holy men who divided the world by their contests and disputes, I reflect with sorrow and astonishment on the little competitions, factions, and debates of mankind. When I read the several dates of the tombs, of some that died yesterday and some that died six hundred years ago, I consider that day when we shall all make our appearance together."
THE BIRDS' PETITION.
W
e four little birdies, scarce able to fly,
Are starv'd with the cold of the frosty sky;
Through the trees and the hedgerows the white snow is driven,
And lies around everywhere under the heaven;
It hangs on the woods, it covers the wold,
It spreads over city, and hamlet, and hold.
Happy ye little folk! sheltered at home
From the blasts that over the white world roam;
You are merry and gay 'mid your plentiful stores,
Oh, think of us ready to die out of doors!
The ground yields no worm, few berries the trees,
Oh, throw us some crumbs, little folk, if you please!
So, when the summer-time comes with the flowers
Decking the meadows, the wild wood, and bowers,
Every garden and grove shall resound with our song:
Oh, hear now our cry, for the winter is long!
The berries are scarce, so deep lies the snow,
But there's comfort in crumbs for birdies, you know!
"begging for crumbs." See [p. 368].