or must find time at least to peep into the vicars'
close, and walk round the moat of the palace. After some such general
impression has been gained, the study of the exterior of the church
will naturally begin with that part which is a peculiar distinction of
Wells Cathedral--the west front.

The WEST FRONT of Wells has been universally admired. Long ago, old
Fuller wrote--"The west front of Wells is a masterpiece of art indeed,
made of imagery in just proportion, so that we may call them _vera et
spirantia signa_. England affordeth not the like." This verdict is but
repeated by modern writers; the front is "quite unrivalled," says
Fergusson, and comparable only to Rheims and Chartres. Mr Hughes, in
Traill's _Social England_, goes farther and says[2] that "nothing fit
to rank with it was then being done in Northern Europe--for the
monumental porches of France, formerly supposed to be contemporary,
are now recognised as of a later date."

[Illustration: West Front. Bishop Aethelhelm (103). Drawn by H.P.
Clifford.]

But there has been a discordant note in the general chorus of praise.
Professor Freeman, whose admiration for nearly everything in Wells was
so intense, could find little to praise in the west front of the
cathedral.[3] "It is doubtless," he wrote, "the finest display of
sculpture in England; but it is thoroughly bad as a piece of
architecture. I am always glad when I get round the corner, and can
rest my eye on the massive and simple majesty of the nave and
transepts. The west front is bad because it is a sham--because it is
not the real ending of the nave and aisles, but a mere mask, devised,
in order to gain greater room for the display of statues ... The front
is not the natural finish of the nave and aisles; it is a blank wall
built up in a shape which is not the shape which their endings would
naturally assume. It is therefore a sham; it is a sin against the
first law of architectural design, the law that enrichment should be
sought in ornamenting the construction ... not in building up anything
simply for the sake of effect." He then proceeds to criticise the way
in which the windows and doorways "are stowed away as they best may
be," as if they were felt to be mere interruptions to the lines of
sculpture.

[Illustration: The West Front.]

This latter objection to the doorways had often been made before, only
that the "rabbit-holes on a mountain side" of earlier critics became
"mouse-holes" with