consideration in any attempt to sift the evidence concerning their
work--and they were before all things practical. The claims of
structure, the motives of common-sense, rather than abstract and
aesthetic ideals of beauty, were the prime causes at work in the
evolution of their great art. Here they found themselves faced by a
practical need--the rebuilding of a fallen tower. Its reconstruction
was necessary to the completeness and stability of the building; so
they put it up, applying new and increasing knowledge and skill in the
execution of the work. They did their best, and the result was
something not only strong and structural, but beautiful. But, as time
has shown, it would have been better had they been less respectful of
the valueless legacy bequeathed to them in the piers, though in
defence of their sagacity it must be admitted that what they deemed
sufficient for the purpose then in view was able to carry their own
tower for five hundred years in safety, and not only this, but, in
addition, a spire, the erection of which they may not have thought of
when the restoration was begun.

[7] Walcott, p. 15.

There is another interesting fact which may be mentioned before
quitting this part of our inquiry. Professor Willis found that there
still existed in 1861 one of the old wooden trusses of the roof over
the west bay of the chancel. It was a specimen of mediæval carpentry
six hundred and fifty years old, and it had not, as he showed, been
unframed since the fire of 1186-1187. The timbers composing it had
been slightly charred by the flames, and some of the lead which
covered the burning roof had run in its melted condition into the
mortices of the framing. [8]