crowning tabernacle, with its statue of the builder; and its pinnacled
side aisles.

I must confess that of all the cathedrals which I have entered, none gave
me such a sensation of surprize and pleasure. The loftiness, the space,
the vast length of the whole unbroken roof above, I believe not exceeded
by any other in England; the two rows of lofty clustered pillars; the
branching aisles, with their again branching and crossing tracery; the
long line of the vaulted roof, embossed with armorial escutcheons and
religious devices of gorgeous coloring; the richly painted windows; and,
below, the carved chantries and mural monuments, seen amid the tempered
light; and the sober yet delicate hue of the Portland stone, with which
the whole noble fabric is lined, produce a tout ensemble of sublime
loveliness which is not easily to be rivaled....

But we have made the circuit of the church without beholding the choir,
and we must not quit its precincts without entering there. Ascending the
flight of steps which lead to it, we front that elegant screen with which
modern good taste has replaced the screen of Inigo Jones, who, blind to
all the beauty of the Gothic architecture, not only placed here a Grecian
screen, but also affixt a Grecian bishop's throne to the beautiful Gothic
canopy-work of the choir. In the niches of this screen are two bronze
statues of James I and Charles I.

We are now on the spot of the ancient rood-loft, where formerly stood the
great rood, or crucifix, with the attendant figures of the Virgin and St.
John, of vast size and value, being of silver, which were bequeathed to
the minster by the notorious Archbishop Stigand, before the Conquest. As
we enter the choir through the door in the screen, we are struck with the
great beauty of the place. Around us rises the rich dark woodwork of the