a fault, yet one that possesses a solemn repose unspeakably restful to
mind and spirit--a sense of undisturbed harmony and refined yet massive
simplicity. Towards eventide the shadows of the turrets and pinnacles
creep, day by day, over the surrounding bands of greensward, their cool
greys advancing inch by inch until they reach the spacious pavements,
whereon they cast the symbols of our Christian faith in ruddy
trefoil-headed slants of glory.

Whatever else is omitted from the history of the Cathedral, mention must
be made of the valiant efforts that have been and are still being made
to preserve the stability of the structure. A few years ago the east end
showed signs of subsidence, and ominous cracks appeared in the north
transept, a part of the old Norman church. An examination of the fabric
proved that herculean tasks were essential to save this portion of the
edifice. It was agreed that only by extensive underpinning could the
work be accomplished. It has been very costly, and funds are most
urgently needed to complete the preservation, not only of the eastern
end, but of the whole Cathedral. The cradle of woodwork erected to give
temporary support to the eastern superstructure cost over a thousand
pounds to fix, and up to date many thousands of pounds have been spent
on the work. It was not until these temporary supports had been fixed
and excavations begun that the magnitude of the task was fully revealed.
The Cathedral was found to have been built on an old "water-bed" having
a foundation of peat, the distance between the ground level and the
firm gravel beneath the peat being 27 feet. The only hope of saving the
east end was to remove the peat and fill in the spaces with concrete and
cement. With the removal of the peat, however, there was so great an
influx of water that pumping was of no avail. Two of the best divers in
the kingdom were then procured, and by working on their backs and sides
in 15 feet of muddy water they succeeded in laying the concrete bed.