The bay of the south transept, which had been cut off, and used as a house for the verger, was recovered, and the present vestry built therein, in a style, right no doubt in general plan, but not very successful in detail.

The vaulting of the cloister was completed, and, by the happy expedient of building a raised wooden vault in one part, the old chapter-house door was once more fully exposed to view. The division which had entirely spoilt the chapter-house itself was removed; as were also the stone screens which had cut off and defaced the beautiful cluster of north-eastern chapels.

The opening of the lantern-story added greatly to the beauty of the interior, but it made it necessary to chime the bells instead of ringing them; and in 1878 they were removed altogether, as their vibration was considered dangerous to the tower, and an admirably contrived belfry built in 1880 over the staircase of the Hall by Mr. Bodley. Scott also constructed the porch which opens into Tom Quad, and affords an entrance to the cathedral at once more dignified and convenient than before.

Since Scott's time a good many further improvements have been effected, among which may be mentioned the reredos, the stained glass of Sir Edward Burne Jones, the fitting up of the Latin Chapel and recovery of the easter sepulchre therein, the recovery also of the marble base of the second shrine of St. Frideswide, and of the early Saxon arches hard by.

At least it cannot be true now, as it seems to have been fifty years ago, that many persons, visiting Oxford to explore its antiquities, "actually go away without entering the cathedral church, or that undergraduates any longer pass an academical career, content to be aware possibly that Christ Church has its chapel, like other colleges."

CHAPTER II.
THE EXTERIOR.

The peculiar position of Christ Church, as a cathedral which is three parts college chapel, is apparent to the most casual observer, who, passing by the college porter in the gateway of Tom Tower, finds himself in a great open quadrangle with a fine hall on one side, but no sign of a cathedral anywhere, except a spire which seems so far off that it might very well belong to some other college. He may well be struck by that doubtfulness as to any means of exit, which makes most of the colleges appear to the stranger as if they consisted of one quadrangle only. There really seems no way of getting to the cathedral, for the incipient cloisters of Tom Quad stretch in unbroken array round the four points of the compass; and no one could be expected to guess that the two rat-holes at one side of the eastern terrace stand for the west front of a great church. But so it is, and on Sundays a crowd of citizens mingle with the undergraduates in their curious open surplices, and drift across the Quad, past Mercury fountain, leaving no doubt in the mind of the traveller that this is a cathedral church, and he is as free of it as anybody else. There is, indeed, another entrance from the old cloister on the south side, which is public, though mainly convenient to those members of "The House" who dwell in the Old Library and Meadow Buildings; and a third entrance besides, which is, however, the private boon of the Professor of Pastoral Theology.

It follows, therefore, that without describing the various college buildings, which are rather outside our province, we can say little about the exterior, except in matters of detail; for there is no close, and the cathedral is thus far from being common property that it is hidden in a rather intricate environment of college buildings and private gardens. But the one feature which in part rises above its misfortunes is the spire.

The Spire.—Among all the strange domes and steeples which give to the city of Oxford such a unique appearance, this spire of the cathedral is to the architectural eye not the least striking. Very humble in its bearing, it seems to put forward no claim to our attention, and may escape the notice of a hurried traveller; but it has more character and interest than the elaborate spire of the University Church itself. Its very modesty gives it a distinction; were it taller it would be but one among a hundred, but as it is there is no other in England at all like it in the quiet dignity of its low proportions. The first time one sees it one is most struck by its squat appearance; it seems almost to have been built as little more than a convenient stone capping for the tower; and, indeed, each time one returns to Oxford one is impressed afresh by this lowliness; so that one fancies for a moment that it may have subsided a little during one's absence. But it quickly resumes its old dignity—the kind of dignity that one sometimes notices in short people—and every day it seems to grow a little higher. Homely and simple, as befits the crown of a foundation which is called "The House," it wins an almost human place in the affections of those who live near it; and never was a spell so honestly cast, never a friend that bore so well the test of familiarity.