f English speaking people. At least, it is more
familiarly known by all who visit that delectable land, and perhaps
rightly so. Poets have sung its praises, and writers of all ranks have
used it in well-nigh every possible fashion as an accessory; indeed,
books almost without number have been written about it, and around it.
This is as it should be, for perhaps no great church is more worthy, or
more prolific in material. For those who would probe deeply into its
story, there is but one way to acquire an intimate knowledge
thereof,--to undertake a course of reading and study in some such way as
a lawyer sets about reading up on a great case. By no other method could
be acquired a tithe of the commonly known facts regarding its past
history; hence the impossibility of attempting to deal fully in a few
pages with this great church, even in a perfunctory manner. The most
that can be safely ventured upon, is to recount some of the facts.

How many have really noticed that none of the diagrams, which show the
ground-plan of this cathedral, indicate the existence of any transepts?
Take, for instance, that which accompanies this volume, which, it may be
said, is drawn correctly,--beyond the omission of a couple of pillars on
either side of the nave, there is nothing to break into the long
parallelogram-like structure, with an apsidal termination. As a matter
of fact, there are a pair of very beautiful transepts, as most
photographs of the exterior, and drawings of the interior, show. They
are, too, in no way attenuated, and are only lost in the ground-plan by
reason of the fact that they follow the very unusual arrangement of not
extending laterally beyond the ample width of the nave and its chapelled
aisles. The south transept facade, with the portal dedicated to St.
Stephen, and two magnificent rose windows, is unquestionably more
pleasing than the west facade itself as to design and arrangement.

Begun in 1163 and consecrated in 1182, the church has undergone many
vicissitudes, changes, and restorations. It has fared ill on many
occasions; perhaps the greatest defilement being that which befell it
during the Revolution, when it was not only foully desecrated, its
statues and other imagery despoiled, but the edifice was actually doomed
to destruction. This fortunately was spared to it, but in the same year
(1793) it became a "Temple of Reason," one of those fanatical exploits
of a set of madmen who are periodically let loose