f the Gospel; while the many-pinnacled and
richly-fretted Cathedral before me seemed the representative of the
Papacy. As stands this arch, in simple but eternal beauty, beside the
inflated glories of the Duomo, so stands the gospel amid the spurious
systems of the world. They, like the Cathedral, are elaborate and
artificial piles. The stones of which they are built are absurd
doctrines, burdensome rites, and meaningless ceremonies. In beautiful
contrast to their complexity and inconsistency, the Gospel presents to
the world one simple and grand idea. They perplex and weary their
votaries, who lose themselves amid the tangled paths and intricate
labyrinths with which they abound. The Gospel, on the other hand, offers
a plain and straight path to the enquirer, which, once found, can never
be lost. These systems grow old, and, having lived their day, return to
the earth, out of which they arose. The Gospel never dies,--never grows
old. Fixed on an immoveable basis, it stands sublimely forth amid the
lapse of ages and the decay of systems, charming all minds by its
simplicity, and subduing all minds by its power. It says nothing of
penances, nothing of pilgrimages, nothing of tradition, nor of works of
supererogation, nor of efficacious sacraments dispensed by the hands of
an apostolically descended clergy: its one simple and sublime
announcement is, that _Eternal Life is the Free Gift of God through the
Death of his Son_.

CHAPTER X.

THE DUOMO OF MILAN.

Interior Disappoints at First Sight--Expands into
Magnificence--Description of Interior--Mummy of San Carlo
Borromeo--His too early Canonization--A Priest at Mass--The Two
Mysteries--Distinction between Religion and Worship--Roof of
Cathedral--Aspect of Lombardy from thence--Ascend to the Top of
Tower--Objects in the Square--Miniature of the World--The Alps from
the Cathedral Roof--Martyr Associations--A Future Morning.

My next day was devoted to the Cathedral. Entering by the great western
doorway,--a low-browed arch, rich in carving and statuary,--I pushed
aside the thick, heavy quilt that closes the entrance of all the Italian
churches, and stood beneath the roof. My first feeling was one of
disappointment; so great was the contrast betwixt the airy and sunlight
beauty of the exterior, and the massive and sombre grandeur within. The
marble of the floor was sorely fretted by the foot: its original colours
of blue and re