consummation of the noble work beneath. But although the tower and
spire are of a later period--the Decorated, they blend so
harmoniously with the earlier building that all might have arisen in
one twelve months instead of being labours spread over one hundred
years. The rash courage which raised this great pyramid of stone, four
hundred and four feet above the sward, on the slender columns and
walls that have actually bowed under the great weight they uphold, has
often been commented upon. It has been said that the tower would have
fallen long ago had it not been for the original scaffolding that
remains within to tie and strengthen it. In the eighteenth century a
leaden casket was discovered by some workmen high in the spire,
containing a relic of our Lady, to whom the Cathedral is dedicated. In
the summer of 1921 the steeplejacks employed to test the lightning
conductor found that the iron cramps had rusted to such an extent as
to split the stonework. A band of iron within the base of the spire in
process of rusting is said to have raised the great mass of stone
fully half an inch. The iron is now being replaced by gun-metal.

The great church is entered by the north porch, and the immediate
effect of august beauty is not at first tempered by the impression of
coldness that gradually makes itself felt as we compare, from memory,
the interior with that of Winchester or even some of the less
important churches we have visited. But this is perhaps only a
temporary fault, and when the windows of the nave are rejewelled with
the glorious colours that shone from them before the Reformation, the
cold austerity of this part of the great church will largely
disappear. The extreme _orderliness_ of the architectural conception,
the numberless columns and arches ranged in stately rows, vanishing in
almost unbroken perspective, make Salisbury unique among English
cathedral interiors. An old rhyme gives the building as many pillars,
windows, and doors as there are hours, days, and months in the year.

In addition to his other questionable traits, James Wyatt must have
had something of the Prussian drill-sergeant in his nature. Under his
"restoration" scheme the tombs of bishops and knights that once gave a
picturesque confusion to the spaces of the nave were marshalled into
precise and regular order in two long lines between the columns on
each side. For congregational purposes this was and is an advantage,
but Wyatt actually los