“That is the first impression, but it does not last for long. Familiarity breeds respect for this simple, strong device, which arrested the fall of the tower in the Fourteenth Century, and has kept its walls ever since in perfect security, so that the great structure has stood like a rock upon the watery soil of Wells for nearly seven centuries, with its rents and breaks just as they were when the damage was first repaired. The ingenuity, too, of these strange flying-buttresses becomes more and more evident; the ‘ungainly props’ are seen to be so worked into the tower they support, that they almost seem like part of the original design of the first builders. One discovers that it is the organ, and not the arches, that really blocks the view, and one marvels that so huge a mass of masonry can look so light as to present, with the great circles in the spandrels where the arches meet, a kind of pattern of gigantic geometrical tracery. Indeed I think no one who has been in Wells a week could wish to see the inverted arches removed. “To appreciate the work fully, it should be looked at from some spot, such as the north-east corner of the north transept, whence the three great pairs of arches can be seen together. The effect from here is very fine, especially when the nave is lighted up and strong shadows are cast. The extreme boldness of the mouldings, the absence of shafts and capitals and of all ornament, give them a primitive vigour, and their great intermingling curves, which contrast so magnificently with the little shafts of the piers beyond, seem more like a part of some great mountain cavern than a mere device of architectural utility.”--(P. D.) The general effect of the Nave is that of length rather than height, largely due to the continuous arcade of the triforium which leads the eye irresistibly eastwards, and the comparatively restricted height of the Cathedral has been increased by bold vaulting, and by the way the lantern arches fit into the vault. A little study will show the visitor the separation between the late Twelfth Century work of Reginald de Bohun, or Fitz-Jocelyn, and the Thirteenth Century work of Jocelin. These differences lie in the masonry and the carved heads and the capitals. The heads of a king and bishop, projecting from the south side between the fourth and fifth piers, mark the point of change eastward: the masonry of piers, walls and aisle walls is in small courses of stone; westward, the blocks are larger, eastward, small human heads project at the angles of the pier-arches and westward there are none; eastward, the tympana of the triforium arcade are filled with carvings of grotesque animals and small heads at the corners, and westward, the tympana are filled with foliage and ornamented with larger heads. There are also other differences.