The legendary spirit of the middle ages, which did not easily allow that a too perfect work could be the result of a man’s own thought and labor, has, as usual, embroidered facts with fancies, and attributed the conception of so exquisite a design to supernatural and magical means. It is not difficult to understand that the simple imagination of the people may have had some scope in the colossal construction of the ancient cathedrals, which required centuries for their completion, and which often left no name of the master who conceived the design or of those who executed it; but the _Sainte Chapelle_ was not to have such dimensions as to require time and labor either very great or prolonged, and, moreover, he who cut this jewel would engrave on it his name.[7] It is evident that the chief intention of the architect was to give to his work as spiritual a character as it is possible to impress upon matter, and to translate into stone the _sursum corda_ of religious aspiration. The first stone was laid by the king in the year 1245. The proportions of the plan are considered perfect by competent judges. It forms a lengthened parallelogram, terminated at the east end by an apse, and formed of two chapels, one above the other, without aisles or transepts. The edifice measures outside 36 metres 33 centimetres in length, by 17 in width; the exterior elevation from the ground of the lower chapel to the front gable is 42m. 50cm.; the spire[8] rises 33m. 25cm. above the roof. The interior elevation measures 6m. 60cm. in the lower chapel, and from 20m. to 50m. in the upper. The king’s desire for the speedy completion of the building was so great that, notwithstanding the conscientious care bestowed upon every detail, the work went on with such rapidity that in three years the whole was finished, and the fairy-like beauty of the edifice excited the most enthusiastic admiration, tempered, however, by serious apprehensions as to the stability of the fabric――apprehensions which raised a tempest of reproaches against the daring architect. Pierre de Montereau was himself for a time dismayed at the possible consequences of his boldness. How could he be certain that a church so slight, so delicate, and, in comparison with its area, so lofty, would stand securely, almost in defiance of possibilities?