Pressing onward, I soon reached a Gothic gateway, handsomely carved, but sadly old and decayed.  It led into the grass-covered cathedral yard.  Through the thick fog could now be distinguished some of the lofty outlines of the majestic cathedral.  Its central tower, which is among the best specimens of the pointed style in England, could be seen faintly as it rose ponderously into the clouded air.  No picture, no figures, no mere letter, can place before the reader’s mind this enormous edifice.  Its total length is 520 feet—­Westminster Abbey is more than 100 feet less.  As we enter, the immensity of it grows.  It is a beautiful theory that these great Gothic churches, as outgrowths of the spirit of Christianity, in their largeness and in the forms of their windows and aisles, were meant to represent the universality and lofty ideals of the Christian faith.  Pagans worshiped largely in family temples which none but the rich could build.  The new faith opened its temples to all men, and it built churches large enough for all classes and conditions to enter and find room.

Two styles of architecture are shown in the interior of Canterbury, Norman and Early Gothic.  In the former style are the transept, choir and Becket chapel, each with its noble series of lofty columns and arches.  Beneath the choir and chapel is a crypt, also Norman and the oldest part of the cathedral, some of it undoubtedly dating from St. Augustine’s time.  He is known to have built a church soon after his arrival upon ground formerly occupied by Christians in the Roman army, and this is believed to be its site.  The crypt, in a splendid state of preservation, extends under the entire Norman portion of the building.

When the Gothic style came into vogue, succeeding the Norman, the remainder of the present edifice was added.  Either part—­Norman or Gothic—­would in itself make a large church.  One will meet few grander naves anywhere than this Gothic nave in Canterbury, formed of white stone and wonderfully symmetrical in all its outlines.  A screen, richly wrought, divides the Norman from the Gothic part.  Two flights of stone steps lead from one to the other.  It will not be easy to forget the impression made that dark December morning when I entered the little doorway of this cathedral and first walked down its long, gray, lofty nave to this flight of steps.  The chanting in the choir of the morning service which echoed throughout the vast edifice gave profound solemnity to a scene that can never pass from recollection.

When the service had closed, an intelligent verger acted as my guide.  New chapels and aisles seemed to open in all directions.  Before we had completed the circuit, it seemed as if we were going through another Westminster Abbey.  In one cornear is the “Warrior’s Chapel,” crowded with the tombs of knights whose effigies, in full armor, lie recumbent on elaborate bases.  Henry IV. and his second queen lie in the Becket Chapel under an elegant canopy, between two immense Norman pillars.  On the other side, between two other pillars, lies the Black Prince, with recumbent statue in full armor.  Suspended above the canopy are his coat of mail and the helmet and shield he wore at Cressy.