296 I GO A -FISHING. 



teries in Italy, its age and historical importance having 

 preserved it from secularization. The chapel or church 

 is without exception the most gorgeous interior in Europe 

 or the world. I am astonished that it has escaped the 

 eyes of so many travelers. The surface of all the walls, 

 columns, and in short the entire interior, except the pave- 

 ment, is one mass of unbroken Florentine mosaic. The 

 Sicilian jaspers, carnelians, and agates are distributed with 

 splendid effect. The columns supporting the architrave 

 are of white marble, but there is no white marble visible, 

 except a wreath of roses ascending spirally, which is carved 

 in relief. All the rest of the column is covered with jas- 

 per and splendid stones in exquisite mosaic, around which 

 the white wreath seems to be entwined. 



As I stood there a Benedictine brother approached me, 

 and, when he found that I had some interest in the his- 

 tory of the order as well as in the building, entered into 

 conversation, and after a while said, " I will send for the 

 organist, and we will have some music." 



The organ ranks with those at Palermo and Haarlem. 

 It is in Italy placed second in the world, that at Palermo 

 being first. I sat down on a pedestal of one of the col- 

 umns — there was no other seat — and Fra Bartolomeo (not 

 he of ancient fame with the pencil, but certainly a rival 

 in producing all the effects of beauty from sound that his 

 great namesake did for the sight) came from a side-door, 

 bowed slightly, with a sad kind of smile on his pale face, 

 and disappeared behind the high altar where stood the 

 organ. All was now silent except the roar of a mighty 

 wind that was sweeping over the mountain-top. I sat and 

 listened, and a solemn awe stole over me as I began to 

 remember the knees that had pressed this pavement, the 

 forms that had moved here in jrown and cowl, all carried 



