The great western entrance has a very imposing aspect, and conveys to the spectator’s mind those ideas of ecclesiastical magnificence which can only be inspired by the noblest constructions of art--such as are here presented to his contemplation. It consists of a projecting porch, elaborately ornamented, niched and pillared, and subdivided into numerous compartments, upon which the artist’s chisel has been most skilfully employed. “Beside this porch, on either hand, Giant buttresses darkly stand, And still their silent vanguard hold For bleeding knights, laid here of old; And Mercian Offa and his queen, The portal’s guard and grace, are seen. This western front shows various style, Less ancient than the central pile. It seems some shade of parted years Left watching o’er the mouldering dead, Who here for pious Henry bled; And here, beneath the wide-stretch’d ground Of nave, of choir, of chapels round, For ever--ever rest the head.” Over the entrance is the magnificent window, shown in the steel plate: it occupies nearly the whole breadth of the nave, and through its numerous mullioned and transomed squares, pours a flood of light upon the long Gothic aisles as far as the high Altar. To see the interior of the church to the greatest advantage, the spectator should take his station at this entrance, and at that hour after mid-day when the light and shade are brought into strongest contrast. [Illustration] In the south Aisle, nearly opposite the steps leading into the Chapel of St. Alban, is the subject of the annexed cut. It is an oblong table of stone, covered with a massive slab of dark marble, which is considered to be of a rare and precious quality. It is marked with several small crosses, rudely traced, and, as we were told by our cicerone, is the original Altar-table of the Monastery, which, after the suppression of the latter in 1539, was removed from the choir. This Aisle, including the exterior of Abbot Whethamstead’s monument on the left--that of Duke Humphrey in the distance--the entrance to the shrine of the patron saint between, and with the outer doorway arches, windows, and altar on the right, is one of the most interesting scenes in the church. Standing by this altar of a thousand years, the lines of the French poet possess a force which in any other situation would be scarcely felt: Les arcs de ce long clôitre, impénétrable au jour, Les degrés de l’autel usés par la prière, Ces noirs vitraux, ce sombre et profond sanctuaire, Où peut-être des cœurs, en secret malheureux, A l’inflexible autel se plaignoient de leurs nœuds, Et, pour des souvenirs encore trop pleins de charmes, A la religion dérobaient quelques larmes-- Tout parle, tout émeut dans ce séjour sacré! <g>The Gate-House</g>, with its ponderous oaken doors still closing the lofty pointed archway, is a massive and cumbrous pile of building, and has all the rude