and spire, and it is best to forget that another tower, a campanile,
similar to that at Chichester, once stood on this greensward, to be
wantonly destroyed by James Wyatt. This is said to have been
garrisoned by the Parliamentary army during the Civil War. The
Deanery, opposite the west door, is a quaintly charming building and
the gabled King's House is said to date from the fourteenth century.
No incongruous note ever seems to mar the serenity of the great green
square. The passers-by all apparently fit their environment;
schoolgirls in their teens, fresh faced and happy; clergy of the
Chapter, true type of the modern intellectual priest; an occasional
workman employed about the Cathedral, upon whom its impress has
visibly descended; quaint imps in Elizabethan ruffles playing a
seemingly sedate game upon the lawn while their companions are singing
in the choir; the ordinary sightseers who, apart from bank holidays,
always seem to arrive at the same times and in the same twos and
threes, and put on, as do the inevitable butchers' and bakers' youths,
a cloak of decorous quiet when they enter the guardian gateways.

[Illustration: HIGH STREET GATE.]

The Cathedral was commenced in 1220 by Bishop Poore and took about
forty years to build, but this period did not include the erection of
the tower and spire which were later additions. The fine and generally
admired west front is, from an architect's point of view, the only
part of the exterior that is not admirable. It is in actual fact,
fraudulent, just as the whole of the upper wall of St. Paul's
Cathedral is an artistic untruth. The west wall of Salisbury is a
screen without professing to be one. The porches are very small in
relation to the great flattish expanse of masonry above them; the
dullness of this was much relieved by the series of statues placed in
the empty niches about the middle of the last century. The original
medieval figures almost all disappeared through the zeal of the
Puritans.

Even the most careless glance down the long outline of the walls,
artistically broken by the two transepts, but never losing the regular
continuity of design, will show the observer that this perfect Early
English building was an inspiration of one brain and that the many
hands that worked for that brain carried out their tasks as a
religious rite. The glory of the tower as we see it was not part of
the original plan, though that undoubtedly included some such crown
and