pronunciation of that letter was similar to that of our
long _a_, and not like our double _ee_; although the modern Greeks
support the latter pronunciation.]

_23d April_. To those who take interest in the efforts of that age when
Christianity, devoid at once of artistic knowledge and of mechanical,
strove from among the material and moral wreck of Paganism to create for
herself a school of Art which should, despite of all short-comings, be
the exponent of those high feelings which inspired her mind, the Royal
Chapel of Palermo offers a delightful object of study. Less massive than
the gloomily grand basilicas of Rome and Ravenna, surpassed in single
features by other churches, as, for instance, the Cathedral of Salerno,
it contains, nevertheless, such perfect specimens of Christian Art in
its various phases, that this one small building seems a hand-book in
itself. The floor and walls are covered with excellently preserved and
highly polished Alexandrine mosaic, flowing in varied convolutions of
green and gold and red round the broad crimson and gray shields, whose
circular forms recall the mighty monolith columns of porphyry and
granite which yielded such noble spoils. The honey-combed pendentines of
the ceiling must be due to Arab workmen; their like may yet be found in
Cairo or the Alhambra; while below the narrow windows, and extending
downwards to the marble panelling, runs a grand series of gold-grounded
mosaics, their subjects taken from the Old and New Testaments. But
far older than even these are the colossal grim circles of saints and
apostles who cling to the roof of the choir, and yield in size only to
the awful figures of the Saviour, the Virgin, and Saint Paul, enthroned
in the _apsides_ of the nave and aisles. The _ambones_, though not
so large as those of Salerno, are very gorgeous; and the paschal
candlestick, here at all events in its usual shape, is of deeply-carved
marble, and displays an incongruous assemblage of youths, maidens,
beasts, birds, and bishops, hanging each from other like a curtain of
swarming bees.

Service, which had been going on in the choir when we arrived, had now
ceased; but from the crypt below arose a chant so harsh, vibratory,
and void of solemnity, that we were irresistibly reminded of the
subterranean chorus of demons in "Robert le Diable." Two of us ventured
below and discovered the chapter, all robed in purple, sitting round a
pall with a presumable coffin underneath. L