e called "vistas," it was
demolished in the terrible destruction of 1789, opening up a view of
the Cathedral that was entirely unnecessary, and wilfully destroying a
feature of the close that could ill be spared.

The custom of climbing the spire during the Whitsun fair, to which
Francis Price, in a naive description, attributes much damage to the
leadwork of the roofs, has only ceased in recent times, some sixty or
seventy years ago. Arnold, a watchmaker, wound up his watch while
leaning actually against the vane. When a lad, during a royal visit,
stood on his head on the capstone, George III. refused to reward him,
saying that he was bound to provide for the lives of his people. On
June 26th, 1741, the timber braces of the spire were found to be on
fire. According to Francis Price, "there was, about ten o'clock the
night before in a very great storm, a particular flash of lightning
observed by many of the inhabitants to strike against the tower with a
sort of smacking noise, and then to have been lost.... It may well be
called dreadful since, had it continued half an hour longer, all the
assistance on earth could not have prevented the total destruction of
the pile."

=The West Front= of the Cathedral was, beyond doubt, the last portion
of the original design to be carried out, for among its details the
ball-flower, a typical feature of the decorated style, frequently
occurs. The governing idea of its facade is indefensible. Not merely
because in common with Wells, Lincoln, and other churches, it does not
emphasize the construction of the nave and aisles, and hides them by a
screen, but because the screen itself poses as an integral part of the
building. Even considered solely as an architectural composition,
without regard to the building it professes to decorate rather than
hide, it is hardly good. The two western towers it unites are, in
themselves, not sufficiently important in comparison with the rest of
the edifice; in fact, they are little more than finials to the screen.
In many similar structures the unity of effect gained at the expense
of theoretical consistency justifies the departure; here it is merely
a huge surface adapted to display a great number of statues. Rich as
it appears now that its long empty niches are again repeopled, it is
of no remarkable excellence either in mass or in detail. Its worst
fault, however, is that unlike Exeter, it does not content itself by
frankly assuming to be nothing m