and its capability of accommodating a congregation (of course there are neither pews nor seats, but only chairs in it), some idea may be formed, when we state that we have counted 3000 persons in the side aisles of the nave only. The church is cruciform, with double side aisles and lateral chapels all round, a circular apse and projecting lady-chapel annexed, two towers at the western end, and a truncated spire at the intersection of the nave and transepts. A triforium, and a clerestory with wide windows, run round the church. There are wheel-windows in each transept, and the clerestory windows of the choir are filled with fine stained glass of the epoch. The western front was once a grand specimen of the style, but has been long since spoiled by the introduction of Doric and Ionic orders, principally in consequence of a bequest made by the celebrated Colbert, who lies buried here. The portals of the transepts are gorgeously decorated with niches in their mouldings, and are admirable examples of the workmanship of that day. Within, the extreme elevation of the arches of the nave, giving the effect of great lightness to what are really massive piers, the consequently vast height of the vaulting, and the well-conceived interlacing of the curves of the various arches, as they come one behind the other on the eye, cause a mixed emotion of surprise and delight. The sensations produced by the interior of this edifice on some great day of solemn festival, such as the Nativity or the Assumption, when all the resources of architectural, pictorial, and musical art, combine to heighten the devotion of the thousands of worshippers there assembled, can never be forgotten by those who have experienced them.
In concluding this brief sketch of the medieval ecclesiastical architecture of Paris, we may observe that partly from previous alteration, partly from revolutionary fury, hardly any of the ancient stall-work of the churches has been allowed to remain, and wooden screens probably never existed in them. Nearly all the medieval tombs have disappeared, and we do not know of a single brass or incised slab in any church of the metropolis. All the old bells too have been lost, or if any remain (as at Nôtre Dame) they have been replaced there by some fortunate concurrence of events. The principal interest of these buildings lies in their walls, and we repeat, there is much to be seen in them which will gratify the curiosity of the antiquary or the architect.
