. . . . He
has a very high and noble nature, and is better worth immortality than
the most of us. . . . . On Saturday we went to Chester together. I love
to take every opportunity of going to Chester; it being the one only
place, within easy reach of Liverpool, which possesses any old English
interest.
We went to
THE CATHEDRAL.
Its gray nave impressed me more than at any former visit. Passing into
the cloisters, an attendant took possession of us, and showed us about.
Within the choir there is a profusion of very rich oaken carving, both on
the screen that separates it from the nave, and on the seats and walls;
very curious and most elaborate, and lavished (one would say) most
wastefully, where nobody would think of looking for it,--where, indeed,
amid the dimness of the cathedral, the exquisite detail of the
elaboration could not possibly be seen. Our guide lighted some of the
gas-burners, of which there are many hundreds, to help us see them; but
it required close scrutiny, even then. It must have been out of the
question, when the whole means of illumination were only a few smoky
torches or candles. There was a row of niches, where the monks used to
stand, for four hours together, in the performance of some of their
services; and to relieve them a little, they were allowed partially to
sit on a projection of the seats, which were turned up in the niche for
that purpose; but if they grew drowsy, so as to fail to balance
themselves, the seat was so contrived as to slip down, thus bringing the
monk to the floor.
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