id marbles are amazing in
their elaborateness, astounding in their preposterously bad taste. They
transcend description, and can be faintly imagined only by such as
know a huge marble nightmare of waves and clouds in the south aisle
of Westminster Abbey. This church contains one good painting of a
triumphant experiment conducted by some Dominican friars in the presence
of sundry Ulemas and Muftis: a Koran and Bible have been thrown into a
blazing fire, and the result is as satisfactory as that of Hercules's
death-grapple with the Nemean lion. To be sure, lions and Turks are
not painters. The Martorana church is rich in gold-grounded mosaics,
resembling Saint Mark's at Venice. One represents the coronation of
Roger Guiscard by the Saviour: very curious, as showing at how early a
date the invaders laid claim to the Right Divine. The inscription is
also noteworthy: _Rogerius Rex_, in the Latin tongue, but the Greek
characters, thus: [Greek: ROGERIOS RAEX].[a] The Renaissance has invaded
this church too, and flowery inlaid marbles with gilded scroll balconies
(it is a nuns' church) mingle with the bold discs and oblong panels of
porphyry and green serpentine. In the nave of the small church sat in
comfortable arm-chairs two monks, one black, one white, leaning their
ears to gilded grates and receiving the confessions of the sisterhood.
The paschal candlestick stood in front of the high altar,--Ascension-Day
not being past; but here, as in other Sicilian churches, it assumes the
form of a seven-branched tree, generally of bronze bedecked with gold.
These same nuns' balconies are not confined to the interior of churches,
but form a distinct and picturesque feature in the long line of the
Toledo. Projecting in a bold curve whose undersurface is gaily painted
in arabesque, their thick bars and narrow openings nevertheless leave a
gloomy impression on the mind, while they add to the Oriental character
of the city. A somewhat unsuccessful effort to identify the church whose
bell gave signal for the Sicilian Vespers closed our day's labor. The
spot is clearly defined and easily recognizable, and a small church, now
shut up, occupies the site. So far, so good; but the cloister which is
distinctly mentioned cannot now be found, nor is it easy to perceive
where it could have stood. Perhaps some change in the neighboring harbor
may have swept it away.

[Footnote a: The _e_ in _Rex_ is here rendered by the Greek eta,--a
proof that the