like most of the thirteenth century work in England, are of native origin.  The theory is that two kinds of influence were brought to bear to create English “imagers.”  In the first place, goldsmiths and ivory carvers had been making figures on a small scale:  their trade was gradually expanded until it reached the execution of statues for the outside ornament of buildings.  The figures carved by such artists are inclined to be squat, these craftsmen having often been hampered by being obliged to accommodate their design to their material, and to treat the human figure to appear in spaces of such shapes as circles, squares, and trefoils.  Another class of workers who finally turned their attention to statuary, were the carvers of sepulchral slabs:  these slabs had for a long time shown the effigies of the deceased.  This theory accounts for both types of figures that are found in English Gothic,—­the extremely attenuated, and the blunt squat statues.  At Wells it would seem that both classes of workmen were employed, some of the statues being short and some extremely tall.  They were executed, evidently, at different periods, the facade being gradually decorated, sometimes in groups of several statues, and sometimes in simple pairs.  This theory, too, lends a far greater interest to the west front than the theory that it was all carried out at once, from one intentional design.

St. Nicholas, the patron saint of Baptism, is here represented, holding a child on his arm, and standing in water up to his knees.  The water, being treated in a very conventional way, coiling about the lower limbs, is so suggestive of tiers of flat discs, that it has won for this statue the popular name of “the pancake man,” for he certainly looks as if he had taken up his position in the midst of a pile of pancakes, into which he had sunk.

The old statue of St. Hugh at Lincoln is an attractive early Gothic work.  In 1743 he was removed from his precarious perch on the top of a stone pinnacle, and was placed more firmly afterwards.  In a letter from the Clerk of the Works this process was described.  “I must acquaint you that I took down the antient image of St. Hugh, which is about six foot high, and stood upon the summit of a stone pinnacle at the South corner of the West Front... and pulled down twenty-two feet of the pinnacle itself, which was ready to tumble into ruins, the shell being but six inches thick, and the ribs so much decayed that it declined visibly....  I hope to see the saint fixed upon a firmer basis before the Winter.”  On the top of a turret opposite St. Hugh is the statue of the Swineherd of Stowe.  This personage became famous through contributing a peck of silver pennies toward the building of the cathedral.  As is usually the case, the saint and the donor therefore occupy positions of equal exaltation!  The swineherd is equipped with a winding horn.  A foolish tradition without foundation maintains that this figure does not represent the Swineherd at all, but is a play upon the name of Bishop Bloet,—­the horn being intended to suggest “Blow it!” It seems hardly possible to credit the mediaeval wit with no keener sense of humour than to perpetrate such a far-fetched pun.