d that the upper parts of the
two western towers are in a dangerous condition. All the pinnacles of
these towers have had to be partially removed in order to avoid the
risk of dangerous injury from falling stones, and a great part of the
external work of the two towers is in a state of grievous decay.

The Chapter were warned by the architect that they would incur an
anxious responsibility if they did not at once adopt measures to
obviate this danger.

Further, the architect states that there are some fissures and shakes
in the supporting piers of the central tower within the cathedral, and
that some of the stonework shows signs of crushing. He further reports
that there is urgent need of repair to the nave windows, the south
transept roof, the Warriors' Chapel, and several other parts of the
building. The nave pinnacles are reported by him to be in the last
stage of decay, large portions falling frequently, or having to be
removed.

In these modern days we run "tubes" and under-ground railways in close
proximity to the foundations of historic buildings, and thereby
endanger their safety. The grand cathedral of St. Paul, London, was
threatened by a "tube," and only saved by vigorous protest from having
its foundations jarred and shaken by rumbling trains in the bowels of
the earth. Moreover, by sewers and drains the earth is made devoid of
moisture, and therefore is liable to crack and crumble, and to disturb
the foundations of ponderous buildings. St. Paul's still causes
anxiety on this account, and requires all the care and vigilance of
the skilful architect who guards it.

The old Norman builders loved a central tower, which they built low
and squat. Happily they built surely and well, firmly and solidly, as
their successors loved to pile course upon course upon their Norman
towers, to raise a massive superstructure, and often crown them with a
lofty, graceful, but heavy spire. No wonder the early masonry has, at
times, protested against this additional weight, and many mighty
central towers and spires have fallen and brought ruin on the
surrounding stonework. So it happened at Chichester and in several
other noble churches. St. Alban's tower very nearly fell. There the
ingenuity of destroyers and vandals at the Dissolution had dug a hole
and removed the earth from under one of the piers, hoping that it
would collapse. The old tower held on for three hundred years, and
then the mighty mass began to give way, and