Every sort of ornament that could be thought of seems
to have been crammed into the cathedral in one place or another: gilding,
frescos, pictures; a roof of blue, spangled with golden stars; a
magnificent wheel-window of old painted glass over the entrance, and
another at the opposite end of the cathedral; statues, some of marble,
others of gilded bronze; pulpits of carved marble; a gilded organ; a
cornice of marble busts of the popes, extending round the entire church;
a pavement, covered all over with a strange kind of mosaic work in
various marbles, wrought into marble pictures of sacred subjects; immense
clustered pillars supporting the round arches that divide the nave from
the side aisles; a clere-story of windows within pointed arches;--it
seemed as if the spectator were reading an antique volume written in
black-letter of a small character, but conveying a high and solemn
meaning. I can find no way of expressing its effect on me, so quaint and
venerable as I feel this cathedral to be in its immensity of striped
waistcoat, now dingy with five centuries of wear.
Pages:
670
671
672
673
674
675
676
677
678
679
680
681
682
683
684
685
686
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694