mouldings, intersecting arches,--and every contour and combination peculiar to the best of the old Norman works,--exist in their perfection. While the beautiful work at Winchester and York Minster, and at Salisbury and Lincoln--in their soaring columns and lofty arches, their rich traceries and decorations, their long lines of groined ceilings, and (as at Salisbury and Lichfield) their grand heavenward-pointing spires--suggest the Resurrection, and the aspiration of humanity, and so do honor to Christianity as distinguished from the low and grovelling tendency of Egyptian or Grecian temple, or even Roman,--while Gothic architecture is suggestive of these higher qualities, the solid columns and arches of Norman Durham speak of eternity, and suggest that nothing good dies. These two were the great steps taken by humanity as it became Christianized. First came a consciousness of existing good, and an accompanying desire to perpetuate it. Next came aspiration,--a reaching out and up, after still better life. The Egyptian or Grecian mind was satisfied with things as they were, and found consequent satisfaction in the low temple of Edfu or the unpinnacled Parthenon. It was for the Christian aspiration to demand and only be partially satisfied with--tall columns and lofty arches, high towers and spires, reaching sometimes, like that at Salisbury, more than four hundred feet toward "The third heaven where God resides, That holy happy place." The ponderous pyramids of Egypt, the fantastic temples of India, had height and breadth, but not a suggestion of anything above and beyond themselves. They were, after all, only heaps of material, plain like the pyramids,--or gorgeous and uncouth Indian piles, having in view the honor of some earthly king or some imaginary god, one among many. There was no attempt to do honor to the "King of kings, and Lord of lords." Nowhere were the contributions of the people concentrated for their own good, and for the blessing of generations to come. A cathedral embodies this idea. It is a connecting link between the old dispensation and the new; and, unlike our Bible, it has no blank leaves between the Old and New Testaments. Two things in Durham Cathedral demand our particular attention. One is the Sanctuary Ground, and the other is Galilee Chapel at the west end. Outside the cathedral, at the great northern side door, there is a large and grotesque brass knocker,--a head with staring, hollow eyes, and a ring in its mouth. In olden time a criminal, fleeing from justice, who was able to reach and lift this knocker, was safe from arrest. A monk was all the time stationed inside to open the door to every applicant. The ground-floor of the northwestern tower was the sanctuary ground. A work on the "Antiquities of Durham Cathedral" gives the following statement:--