It may be here necessary to state that the wall of the building represents a panoramic View of London, as seen from the several galleries of St. Paul’s Cathedral—­and that the view of the picture is obtained from three galleries—­the first of which corresponds, in relation to the view, with the first gallery at the summit of the dome of St. Paul’s; the second is like that of the upper gallery on the same edifice; and the third, from its great elevation, commands a view of the remote distance which describes the horizon in the painting.  Above the last-mentioned gallery is placed the identical copper ball which for so many years occupied the summit of St. Paul’s; and above it is a fac-simile of the cross by which it was surmounted.  Over these is hung the small wooden cabin in which Mr. Hornor made his drawings for the picture, in the same perilous situation it occupied during the period of the repairs which some years ago were done to the cathedral.  A small flight of stairs leads from this spot to the open gallery which surrounds the top of the Colosseum, commanding a view of the Regent’s Park and the subjacent country.

The communication with the galleries is by staircases of curious construction, built on the outer side of the central column already mentioned.  This column is hollow, and within it a small circular chamber is to be caused to ascend when freighted with company, by means of machinery, with an imperceptible motion to the first gallery.  The doors of the chamber will then open, and by this novel means of being elevated, visiters may avoid the fatigue of ascending by the stairs, and then walk out into the gallery to enjoy the picture.

In extent and accuracy, the Panorama is one of the most surprising achievements of art in this or any other country.  The picture covers upwards of 40,000 square feet, or nearly an acre of canvass; the dome of the building on which the sky is painted, is thirty feet more in diameter than the cupola of St. Paul’s; and the circumference of the horizon from the point of view, is nearly 130 miles.  The painting is almost completed; indeed, sufficiently so, for the general effect; although this will be considerably increased by the insertion of the remaining details, and the last or finishing touches.  Much as the spectator will be struck by the fidelity of the representation, there is one claim it has to his admiration, which has only to be explained to be universally acknowledged.  It is simply this.  Only let such of our readers as have ascended the galleries of St. Paul’s, think of the fatigue they experienced in the toil, and comparatively speaking, the little gratification they experienced on their arrival at the summit.  In short, what had they for their pains but the distinct roofs of the houses in the immediate vicinity, while the rest of the city was half lost in fog and the smoke of “groves of chimneys.”  The only period at which London can be seen, is at sun-rise on a fine summer