goings between England and France would have saved it from any sudden
fall from its opulence and greatness before the dissolution.

To touch even lightly on the subsequent history of Canterbury is not
possible here, but its remarkably interesting story has been woven
into a connected narrative by Dr. Cox, whose admirable book should be
procured by all who may, by reading this little sketch, feel some of
the glamour which the old city has for the writer.




CHAPTER III

THE CATHEDRAL


From the swelling green hills that look over Canterbury the distant
glimpses of the Cathedral towers gleaming in that opalescent light
that is the joy of a summer's morning in Kent, are so hauntingly
beautiful that it is hard to believe that no disillusionment need be
anticipated when the ancient city is entered and the great church seen
at close quarters in the midst of a little city whose busy streets are
agog with twentieth-century interests; and yet apprehension is
entirely needless. From St. Dunstan's Church, where Henry II. stripped
himself to a shirt and cloak on entering as a penitent, the road is
lined with houses whose quietly picturesque frontages improve as the
city proper is neared, and at the end of a most pleasing perspective
stands the West Gate, a great stone gateway with round towers. Passing
through the archway, one is at once in the narrow, jostling