s
cause and effect.

The cathedral, which the Emperor Charles V. said ought to be placed
under a glass, would alone be sufficient to render the town famous, in
spite of its dullness and desolation, being one of the largest, finest,
and most richly endowed of all the Spanish churches. Neither that of
Toledo or Granada will compare with it in splendor or elaborate finish;
and when we remember how much Spain surpasses Italy, as regards her
cathedrals, the force of this remark will be realized. The lofty
structure, like that at Antwerp, is packed behind a cluster of inferior
buildings, so as to seriously detract from its external effect; though
on the opposite side of the river Arlanzon a favorable view is obtained
of its graceful, open-worked spires, so light and symmetrical, "spires
whose silent fingers point to heaven," and its lofty, corrugated roof.
The columns and high arches of the interior are a maze of architectural
beauty, in pure Gothic. In all these Spanish cathedrals the choir
completely blocks up the centre of the interior, so that no
comprehensive general view can be had; an incongruous architectural
arrangement which is found nowhere else, and which as nearly ruins the
effect of the Toledo, Cordova, and Granada cathedrals as it is possible
to do. Above the space between the altar and the choir rises a cupola,
which, in elaborate ornamentation of bas-reliefs, statues, small
columns, arches, and sculpture, exceeds anything of the sort we can
recall elsewhere. The hundred and more carved stalls of the choir are in
choice walnut, and are a great curiosity as an example of wood-carving,
presenting human figures, vines, fantastic animals, and foliage,
exquisitely delineated. The several chapels are as large as ordinary
churches, while in the centre of each lies buried a bishop or a prince.
The great number of statues and paintings, scattered through the
interior of the cathedral, are almost as confusing as the pinnacled roof
of that at Milan, whose beauty disappears amid accumulation, and one is
liable to come away more wearied than satisfied. In the sacristy the
attendant showed us many curious relics of great intrinsic value, but
which were priceless, in his estimation, from their presumed
associations. The well-known carving of Christ on the Cross was shown to
us, which devout believers are told was carved by Nicodemus just after
he had buried the Saviour. The credulous sacristan, unless his face
deceived us,