set in busy places, in
great centres of population, wherein the high towering minster looks
down with a kind of pitying compassion upon the toiling folk and
invites them to seek shelter and peace and the consolations of
religion in her quiet courts. For ages she has watched over the city
and seen generation after generation pass away. Kings and queens have
come to lay their offerings on her altars, and have been borne there
amid all the pomp of stately mourning to lie in the gorgeous tombs
that grace her choir. She has seen it all--times of pillage and alarm,
of robbery and spoliation, of change and disturbance, but she lives
on, ever calling men with her quiet voice to look up in love and faith
and prayer.

But many of our cathedral cities are quite small places which owe
their very life and existence to the stately church which pious hands
have raised centuries ago. There age after age the prayer of faith,
the anthems of praise, and the divine services have been offered.

In the glow of a summer's evening its heavenly architecture stands
out, a mass of wondrous beauty, telling of the skill of the masons and
craftsmen of olden days who put their hearts into their work and
wrought so surely and so well. The greensward of the close, wherein
the rooks caw and guard their nests, speaks of peace and joy that is
not of earth. We walk through the fretted cloisters that once echoed
with the tread of sandalled monks and saw them illuminating and
copying wonderful missals, antiphonaries, and other manuscripts which
we prize so highly now. The deanery is close at hand, a venerable
house of peace and learning; and the canons' houses tell of centuries
of devoted service to God's Church, wherein many a distinguished
scholar, able preacher, and learned writer has lived and sent forth
his burning message to the world, and now lies at peace in the quiet
minster.

The fabric of the cathedrals is often in danger of becoming part and
parcel of vanishing England. Every one has watched with anxiety the
gallant efforts that have been made to save Winchester. The insecure
foundations, based on timbers that had rotted, threatened to bring
down that wondrous pile of masonry. And now Canterbury is in danger.

The Dean and Chapter of Canterbury having recently completed the
reparation of the central tower of the cathedral, now find themselves
confronted with responsibilities which require still heavier
expenditure. It has recently been foun