For many of us, as for the Mari tains, the impact of Chartres is a cumulative experience that reaches its climax at suitable altitude, perhaps halfway up the clocher neuf, or circling at some point those ‘outer balconies, high above ground, through an unbelievable entanglement of arches and buttresses'. From that scaffolding that suspends one between roofs and towers, there is nothing left but the final admiration … ‘the unity and harmony of so much lofty beauty could have as its foundation only the unity of truth'. Having left beneath one the particular beauties of stained glass, of proportions, of sumptuous effects, here, it is the anatomy of the Church, spread out beneath one as it might be for the blessed Damosel, that impresses the memory with something absolute.