t, alike
in the scanty remains of the Romanesque, and the restored Renaissance
portions, while Gothic peeps out here and there, in no mean proportions,
as though it were misplaced and out of its true environment. The
cathedral, which was destroyed in 1567 by the Huguenots, in spite of the
admonitions of the Condes, is still visible in the fragments of the
choir aisles, the fourteenth-century chapels appearing to have been
uninjured. This much remains of the Gothic of Henry IV.'s time. The late
seventeenth-century work is a manifest expression of the debasement of
Gothic, and such other additions as were made in the reigns of the Louis
carry the vulgarities still further, the acme being reached in the
pseudo-classical north and south porches, which are sepulchral-looking
of themselves, and not even of the most admired variety of the species.
The most that can be remarked, considering all the distinctive features,
is the fact that this cathedral is the only Gothic church, so ranking,
that is not of Mediaeval growth, a fact which may well account for its
unsatisfactory style.

The facade follows the usual enough arrangement of three portals, though
very ugly ones, flanked by rising towers on either side. In this case
these doorways are of the nondescript variety commonly accepted as base
Gothic, but hardly warranting even such a term of endearment. They are
in fact flamboyant as to their lines, though of a remarkable poverty as
to further embellishment, if we bar a series of misplaced armorial
blazonings.

Topping the gables of the portals are a series of circular apertures,
with framing of a sort, but without glass,--a poor imitation of what a
rose window might be at its worst. Above is an arcaded gallery of nine
graceful arches, the first really attractive ornament of this debased
facade. The towers, finished so late as 1789 by M. Paris, the king's
architect, rise loftily some two hundred and eighty feet, with ranges of
slight columns and perpendicular lines, which give the grand and
imposing effect of height of which the cathedral is undeniably
possessed, and which, when viewed from down the Rue Jeanne d'Arc, is
without doubt impressive,--far more so than greater intimacy will
sustain.

The nave, of a height of one hundred feet, is flanked by double aisles,
and in appearance is every way superior to the exterior.

No remarkable art treasures are to be seen, if we except a series of
sculptured Stations of the Cross