Exeter, as has been said, is built on a rather steep though not very lofty hill, a circumstance that adds as much to its pleasantness as its salubrity. Leland, writing from personal examination, in the reign of Henry VIII., says: "The town is a good mile and more in compass, and is right strongly walled and maintained. There be divers fair towers in the town wall, betwixt the south and the west gates. As the walls have been newly made, so have the old towers decayed. There be four gates in the town, by the name of East, West, North, and South. The East and the West Gates be now the fairest, and of one fashion of building. The South Gate hath been the strongest, There be divers fair streets in Exeter; but the High Street, that goeth from the West to the East Gate, is the fairest." ivy with its ivy cloak it forms a rather picturesque object. The site of the castle is occupied by the Sessions'-House-quite a common-place building; the large open space in front is used for holding election, county, and other meetings. From the ramparts may be obtained some very good views of the city; and the contemplative visitor may, as he paces them, appropriately ponder the changes that time has wrought in the whole way of life and habits of thought, as well in the material objects he sees about him. The city hardly retains so much of the character of antiquity as might be expected. You may pass from end to end of the long High Street and Fore Street, and hardly have the attention attracted by any very remarkable feature; and equally so, from one extremity to the other, of North and South Streets. Still there are appearances of antiquity, and if it had not been necessary, from time to time, to alter and improve the houses, it is easy to see that the city would be a pic turesque one. When the gables of the houses, which are set towards the streets, were ornamented, and the upper stories hung forwards, it must have been eminently so. But the narrowness of the streets, of course, made it advisable to remove the projecting stories where the old houses remain; and in the smartening' process which all have more or less undergone, nearly all the rich decorations of the old gables have been removed or hidden, and they have been made as smooth, and plain, and mean, as the modern houses on either side of them. Something has been done, too, to lessen the steepness of the streets-a very useful alteration, but certainly not an ornamental one. The deep hollow, for example, between North Street and St. David's Hill, has been spanned by a viaduct, the 'Iron Bridge,' whereby the passengers are brought about on a level with the first floors of the unhappy-locking houses: and when the new bridge was constructed at the end of Fore Street, the opportunity was taken of lessening in a similar way the steepness of the road. Still, if it be not remarkably picturesque, the city is pleasant and apparently prosperous; and there yet remain enough relics of antiquity within it to amuse the vacant hours and reward the researches of the visitor who is of an antiquarian turn, even apart from its noble cathedral. But the Cathedral (Cut, No. 1), is of course the chief object of attraction, and indeed, is the only really Leland's half-complaining observation might be extended to the whole city-"As buildings have been newly made, so have the old places decayed." The Exeter of the present day is very different from that which Leland saw. The city has extended its bound-attractive building in the city. Though inferior in size aries till it has come to be about a mile and three quarters long, and above a mile broad, where widest and longest. Not only are the forts decayed and gone, but the gates also: the last of them, the South Gate, was removed in 1819. The walls may be traced; and some portions of them remain. Part of the walls of the castle are also standing, but of the building itself only a fragment is left. This is a gateway of Norman date, and is no doubt the chief entrance of the original Rougemont. It stands on the north side of the city, and should be visited. Little of the original architecture is discernible, it being almost wholly covered with and grandeur to a few other of our cathedrals, it is one of the finest of the second class, and in some respects it is unique. The oldest part of the present edifice was erected early in the twelfth century; but the main portion is more recent. In 1112, William Warlewast, one of the Normans who followed William I. to England, and whom the monarch had created third bishop of Exeter, laid the first stone of a new cathedral: he died before the works were very far advanced, and their progress was probably interrupted by the dissensions in the reign of Stephen. The part which had been finished suffered considerable injury during the siege of Exeter by that king. The Cathedral was not completed till near the close of the century. A century later the building began to appear too small, or not sufficiently splendid for the see: and Bishop Peter Quivil determined to erect a new cathedral, on a much grander scale. He only lived to construct the Lady Chapel, but his successors steadily continued the good work, till the whole was completed, as it now appears, by Bishop Brantyngham in 1380. The only parts of Warlewast's cathedral which were retained in the new one are the two towers, which were made to serve for the transepts. Nothing, scarcely, can exceed the beauty of many parts of Exeter Cathedral; but as a whole, perhaps it is not so satisfactory. Though erected in the golden age of English ecclesiastical architecture, and, with the exception of the massive Norman towers, tolerably uniform in style, the exterior is heavy, and comparatively unimposing in its general effect. The unusual position of the towers only renders the want of some grand and lofty central feature the more apparent: and the want is equally felt whether the building be viewed from the Cathedral yard, or the suburbs of the city. The designer, if one may venture to say so, seems to have been a man of confined talent. Capable of contriving smaller features of almost faultless excellence, he might have designed an exquisite chapel; but wanting the happy imaginative daring of genius, he was unequal to the task of constructing a sublime cathedral. The aggregation of many beautiful parts is insufficient to produce a grand whole. The objection may be a mistaken one; but we believe it is pretty generally felt that Exeter Cathedral is far less impressive than would be expected from an examination of its multitudinous beautiful details. The stranger especially feels this; for the parts are so fine, that those who are in the frequent habit of seeing them become insensible to any failure in the general effect. Until within these few years the Cathedral was a good deal hidden by mean buildings: these have been in a great measure removed, and the exterior can now be then be unbroken, and the large and beautiful east tolerably well seen. The Cathedral is built in the form of a cross, but the arms are very short, the transepts being formed out of the towers. The entire length of the building, including the Lady Chapel, is 408 feet: the towers are 145 feet high. The towers are Norman, square, and similar in size, and also in general appearance; their surfaces being covered with blank arcades and other Norman ornaments, but they differ in the details. The remainder of the Cathedral is of what is known as the Decorated style of English architecture; and the numerous windows, with their flowing tracery, are among the finest examples of that rich style. Between the windows are bold flying buttresses, with crocketted pinnacles. The roof, which is of very high pitch, is crowned by a fleur-de-lis ridge ornament-the only one of our cathedrals that retains that decoration. But the most striking portion of the exterior is unquestionably the west front. Gothic architecture was intended to appeal to the imagination and the feelings. The chief entrance to the Cathedral was by the western door, and consequently, upon the western front the architect ordinarily employed all the resources of his art. In most of our cathedrals the western end is more elaborately decorated than any other part: but no other is so much enriched as the west front of Exeter Cathedral, though two or three are more generally admired. The form and general appearance of this front will be best understood by the engraving (Cut, No. 2). It consists of three stories: the basement is a screen, with a central doorway, and one of smaller size on each side. The entire surface of this screen is occupied by canopied niches, in each of which is a statue. The second story, which recedes somewhat, is formed by the west wall of the nave, and contains the large and noble west window, the arch of which is entirely filled with the richest flowing tracery. On each side are decorated arcades. The wall is supported by two very bold flying buttresses. The upper story, which recedes somewhat behind the second story, is formed by the gable of the nave, and has a window smaller than the other, but similar in character. The arrangement, as has been often remarked, is unusual in English cathedrals, but common in those of France: indeed, the whole building has a good deal of a Continental character. The statues and ornamental work of the west front had become considerably dilapidated, but the authorities have carefully restored them; and this magnificent façade-one of the very finest in England-is now in a nearly perfect condition. The interior of the Cathedral is far more imposing than the exterior. As you enter, the long range of clustered columns with the open arches above them; the noble series of windows in the clerestories; and the splendid vaulted stone roof which spans the whole extent of nave and choir, combine to produce a most powerful and impressive effect. But the effect would be amazingly improved were the organ to be removed from its present position. The magnificent vista would window would appear at the end of it: the majestic interior, in short, would be seen as its designers intended it to be seen. The place which the organ occupies in so many of our cathedrals is alike unaccordant with good taste and religious feeling. When these cathedrals were erected, the screen which separates the nave from the choir bore upon it a lofty rood: it was placed there with a religious purpose, as a part of the system of the ecclesiastics, to address the imagination and the feelings through the eye as well as the ear. The worshipper, on passing through the portals of the noble western end of the Cathedral, saw stretching before him a long array of glorious architecture, the walls and the roof resplendent with skilfully-arranged colour and gilding, and the "dim religious light" streaming through numerous storied windows: while raised far aloft, in the midst of all, and occupying the most prominent position, was the emblem of his faithso placed as not to interfere with the grand architectural effect, but to unite with it, and assist in deepening its solemnity of character. At the Reformation the cross was removed but a century elapsed before its place came to be commonly occupied by the organ. The rood screen was selected for the purpose, probably, merely because it was the situation that most readily offered itself for so bulky an instrument. There was no religious feeling in the matter; and there was no architectural taste then in existence to be offended by such an anomalous introduction. Its tolerance during the last century is not to be wondered at,-one could hardly have wondered had the statues of Jupiter and Venus been placed on either side of it; but now that there is a purer and better feeling abroad as to propriety of character in church appliances, it is surely time that the organ should be relegated to a more obscure position. Regarding alone the religious character of the edifice, it cannot be desirable that, upon entering it, the organ should be the first object upon which the attention rests: and, as a matter of taste and artistic effect, its position is even more reprehensible. From either nave or choir it destroys the grand vista, and entirely obscures the noble terminal window; while from every part it forces the eye to rest on object inconsistent with the venerable Gothic structure, and ungraceful and incongruous in itself. The organ of Exeter Cathedral may be, as is asserted, one of the largest and finest instruments in the country; but that is no reason why it should not be removed to a less important and conspicuous position, as has already been done with excellent results in some other of our cathedrals. an Both nave and choir will command and repay attentive examination. In general character they are alike, with, of course, those differences which their different purposes require. The clustered columns, the windows, and the roof, are remarkably fine examples of their several kinds: the roof is one of the largest and handsomest vaulted stone roofs of the Decorated period in existence. Very little of the original stained glass remains in the windows. Like all other "idolatrous pictures and images," it suffered grievously from puritanic wrath. While Exeter was occupied by the soldiers of the Commonwealth, the Cathedral called into exercise no small share of their zeal. Many of the things which they spared speak as loudly as those they destroyed of their fervour and diligence. But they spared some things which they could hardly be expected to spare; among others, the glass in the great east window was left uninjured, and it yet remains in good preservation. We cannot stay to point out the many points of interest in the nave: a peculiarity will be noticed on its north side in the curious Minstrel's Gallery,' which projects from the clerestory, and is ornamented with well-executed figures of angels playing on musical instruments. The choir is in itself the most complete and most striking part of the interior. Its most singular feature is the Bishop's Throne, a richly-carved oak structure, a pyramid of open tracery, rising to an elevation of 52 feet. Bishop Bothe placed it here, about 1470: it escaped the puritanic axe through having been taken to pieces and concealed before the surrender of the city. The pulpit and the stalls are also of superior character. The screen which divides the nave and choir, itself of graceful design and workmanship, is especially noteworthy for a series of very early and rude paintings on the panels. They represent a complete cycle of scriptural subjects, from the Creation to the Descent of the Holy Spirit. As pictures they are of no value; but they are curious as specimens of the state of the art in England at the time they were painted. The chapels are numerous, and some of them very beautiful: the open screens which separate them from the body of the cathedral are in several instances of exquisite beauty and delicacy. These chapels mostly contain monuments, which are in themselves of considerable interest. Indeed the monuments in Exeter Cathedral are much above the ordinary rank; and they are of all times, from the thirteenth century down to the present. We can only mention two or three. One of noticeable character represents Bishop Stapledon, who erected the choir in which his tomb is placed: opposite to it is another, of a knight in armour, believed to be Sir Richard Stapledon, the brother of the bishop; they were both executed in Cheapside, by the populace, in 1356. In the chapel of St. Mary Magdalene-the very beautiful screen of which deserves especial notice —is a splendid monument of Bishop Stafford, who died in 1419. In the beautiful Gabriel Chapel, which was built by Bishop Brownscombe, who died in 1280, may be seen the very elegant tomb of its founder; and also two monuments by the greatest of recent English sculptors. One, a mural monument with several figures, in memory of General Simcoe (who died in 1806), is by Flaxman, but it is not a favourable specimen of his ability: there is little of poetic character in the design, and no refinement of form or execution. The other is Chantrey's statue of Northcote. The old painter is represented seated in a thoughtful attitude, with his palette hanging carelessly on his thumb: he appears to be sitting in reflective mood before his easel, and has much of that tranquil contemplative character Chantrey could sometimes so felicitously unite with marked individuality. The stranger should not fail to ascend the north tower of the cathedral, for the sake of the very fine view of the city he will obtain from its summit. Perhaps a better notion of its topography can be obtained from this tower than elsewhere: and the suburbs are also seen to advantage: the view is of exceeding beauty, southwards down the valley of the Exe, where "Amidst luxuriant scenes, with conscious pride, to her confluence with the ocean, In this north tower is the great bell, whose voice warns the citizens of the flight of time. It is one of the largest bells in the kingdom, being some four or five hundred pounds heavier than the famous Great Tom of Lincoln, and only inferior in weight and tongue to Oxford Tom, The biographer of 'The Doctor,' says, "There are, I believe, only two bells in England which are known by their Christian names, and they are both called Tom. . . . . Were I called upon to act as sponsor upon such an occasion, I would name my bell Peter Bell, in honour of Mr. Wordsworth." Southey was mistaken as to there being only two such bells; our bell has a christian name, and, curious enough, it is Peter Bell. Of course it was not so named in honour of Mr. Wordsworth: it received its appellation in honour of a certain bishop who died centuries before the waggoner was dreamed of. In the south tower is the heaviest peal of bells in the kingdom. The Chapter House of a cathedral is generally worth. seeing. As the ordinary place of meeting for the transaction of the business of the society, and also the apartment in which the members of the monastery daily assembled to hear a chapter of the order read (whence its name), it was usually made an important feature in the general design. The Chapter House of Exeter Cathedral is not so fine as some others, and it is oblong instead of being polygonal as is usually the case; but it is a very handsome structure. It is of later date than the cathedral, having been erected about the middle of the fifteenth century: the windows are good of their kind; the roof is of oak in richly ornamented panels. It is now fitted up as a library. The Bishop's Palace, close by, is not a very remarkable building, but from the very pleasant gardens parts of the cathedral are seen in picturesque combinations and to considerable advantage. During the Commonwealth the Bishop's Palace was let to a sugar-refiner; vestiges of whose pans and troughs were remaining when the palace was repaired in 1821. The cathedral cloisters were entirely destroyed during the Commonwealth. There are nineteen churches in Exeter: before the Commonwealth there were, it is said, thirty-two. Fuller, writing immediately after the Restoration, says, |