To fully appreciate the beauty of the cathedral, it must be studied under different aspects and at different times. Much will depend upon the mood of the visitor, much, too, upon the time of day. The Lady Chapel at 7 A.M. is quite a different thing from the Lady Chapel at 10:30 or 12 noon, though always beautiful. The same holds good with the choir and the nave. A slanting light through the south clerestory playing fitfully upon the lace-work of the north side of the choir, or the sturdy pillars of the ever-impressive nave, gives a charm that cannot be described.
How grand a sight, too, it is when the nave is almost in darkness—save for eight or ten small jets of light overhead—to see the choir lighted up, with the organ standing out in strong relief against the blaze of light below and behind it, and now and then a gleam of light showing through as the door under the screen is opened.
Then, again, note and study the marvellous effects of sound in the building. Listen, if possible, from the Lady Chapel, to an anthem by some old composer; listen to Bach's G minor fugue from the triforium of the choir, and hear the echoes rolling from pier to pier; listen to the Hallelujah Chorus sung on some great festival service in the nave, or some simple well-known hymn sung by close upon 3000 people, and the listener will have some idea of the effect that mere sound, taken as such, can produce.
The sound of Stainer's Gregorian Miserere, sung entirely unaccompanied, as heard from the great west door, is grand in the extreme. It needs but little imagination to take oneself back, say, four hundred years, and picture the monks singing the very same Psalm.
The tiles in an ancient building are always of interest, and Gloucester contains many that are worth inspection. There are some in the choir and its chapels, and there are some in the Lady Chapel; others may be found near Raikes' monument, exposed to view in the south aisle. There are also some in the south-east chapel of the triforium of the choir. The chapter-house tiles are modern (Minton), but were made after the tiles that were in existence there.
The nave was originally tiled, and specimens have been found when excavations have been made. In the days that are to come, possibly, the Georgian flooring may be taken up, and the tiles now hidden from view will be revealed in places where they have not been broken up, where graves have been dug in the nave and aisles.
Perhaps the weakest point in the cathedral is the modern glass. There is much that shows careful work and thought, but there has been no systematic controlling spirit at work to suggest, to guide, or to check. The chief blots, too, are the so-called memorial windows, and the reason is not hard to find. It is well put by Mr Ruskin, who, in his "Seven Lamps of Architecture," says: "The peculiar manner of selfish and impious ostentation, provoked by the glassmakers for a stimulus to trade, of putting up painted windows to be records of private affection, instead of universal religion, is one of the worst, because most plausible and proud, hypocrisies of our day."
Just imagine the difference in the south aisle, for instance, if there had been a scheme carefully planned beforehand for the windows, instead of the threefold, but haphazard, process of a window offered, a window accepted, a window put up, and no questions asked as to designer or artist. Imagine what the effect might, or would, have been, had the windows, as a set, been designed by Burne-Jones and executed by William Morris, or by other competent artists. Now, unfortunately, these two great artists are dead, and Gloucester has not a single specimen of their work.