with piers of greater thickness and more closely, by means of which the breadth tends to disappear, and the entire effect is one of greater stillness and height, whereas the transepts and the nave through their towers still provide with their means of entrance and exit a connection with the outside world. According to the points of the compass the choir is placed to the east, the nave lies in a westerly direction, and the transepts stand towards the north and south. We find, however, churches with a double choir, in which the two choirs lie respectively in the direction of morning and evening and the main entrances are placed in the transepts. The stone font for baptism, that is, for the sanctification of human entry into the Christian community, is placed in a porch by the main _entrance_ into the church. And, finally, we may note that, while the more express worship is provided for by the entire building, and notably the choir and nave, there are also small chapels which form in each case a fresh and independent church. This must suffice as a description of the articulate structure of the whole. In a cathedral of this type there is space enough for an entire people. For here it is the intention that the community of a city and district do not congregate round the building, but within the same. And for this reason all the varied interests of life which in any way come into contact with religion have, too, a place assigned them. No fixed divisions of seats placed in rows divide and diminish the broad space, but everyone comes and departs in peace, engages for himself or takes a seat for immediate use, kneels down, offers his prayer and removes himself once more. If it is not the hour of high mass the most various things take place at the same time, and there is no confusion. In one portion a sermon is delivered, in another a sick man is brought in; between these points we may find a slow procession; at one spot, we have a baptism, at another a deceased person is carried through the church. Or we may find in one place a priest delivering mass or celebrating the marriage services and in every direction the people in broken groups kneel before altars and sacred images. All such things are embraced by one and the same building. But this very variety and individualization disappears, nevertheless, with its alternations when contrasted with the expanse and size of the building. Nothing completely fills up the whole, every incident passes by; individuals with all that they do are lost and dispersed as points in this grandiose whole. What happens at a given time is merely visible in its passing flight, and over and above all the huge and almost measureless spaces soar up in their secure and immutable form and construction.