it when, in the middle sixteenth century, the builders of
its central spire, which fell shortly after, sought to rival the Italian
church in a vast Gothic fabric which should be the dominant northern
type in contra-distinction to that of the south. This of itself, were
there no other contributory interests, which there are to a very great
degree, should be all-sufficient to awaken the desire on the part of
every one who journeys Parisward to obtain a more intimate acquaintance
with this great work. Here was an instance of ambition overleaping
itself,--exceeding by far the needs and conditions of its environment
and like many another ill-planned venture, it fell to ruin through a
lack of logic and mental balance. To-day we see a restored fabric,
lacking all the attributes of a great church except that which is
encompassed by that portion lying eastward of the nave proper, its frail
buttresses knitted together by iron rods, its piers latterly doubled in
number, and many more visible signs of an attempt to hold its walls and
roofs up to the work they have to perform.

The present structure, in so far as certain of its components go, was
commenced within five years of Amiens (1225), which calls to mind the
guide-book comparison, which seems so appropriate that it must really
have previously originated from some other source,--Amiens, "a giant in
repose;" Beauvais, "a Colossus on tiptoe."

Its designer built not wisely, nor in this case too well, for before the
end of the century the roof had fallen, and this after repeated
miscalculations and failures. At this time the intermediate piers of the
choir were built and a general modified plan adopted.

Ruskin's favourite simile, with respect to St. Pierre de Beauvais, was
that no Alpine precipice had the sheer fall of the walls of this
choir,--or words to that effect, which is about as far-fetched as many
other of his dictums, which have since been exploded by writers of every
degree of optimism and pessimism. Certainly it is a great height to
which this choir rises, one hundred and fifty-three feet it has been
called, which probably exceeds that of Amiens by a dozen or more feet,
though authorities (_sic_) vary with regard to these dimensions, as
might be supposed; but it is no more like unto a wall of rock than it
is to a lighthouse.

With the crumbling of the sixteenth-century spire on Ascension Day,
1573, restoration of the transepts was undertaken and work on the nave