Dunox ] TEMPLES AND TOWERS OF THE VIHOEX. 89 



before, and now the matchless beauty and majesty of its vast mass was 

 all before us. Yet it was only the central object of a mighty throng of 

 structures wrought up to the same exalted style, and tilling up the entire 

 panorama. Right opposite us are the two principal forks of the Virgen, 

 the Pariinuweap coming from the right or east, and the Mukuntuweap 

 or Little Zion Valley, descending towards us from the north. The Pariin- 

 uweap is seen emerging on the extreme right through a stupendous gate- 

 way and chasm in the Triassic terrace, nearly H,000 feet in depth. The 

 further wall of this canon, at the opeuing of the gateway, quickly swings 

 northward at a right angle and becomes the eastern wall of Little Zion 

 Valley. As it sweeps down the Parunuweap it breaks into great pedi- 

 ments, covered all over with the richest carving. The effect is much like 

 that which the architect of the Milan Cathedral appears to have de- 

 signed, though here it is vividly suggested rather than fully realized— 

 as an artist painting in the "broad style" suggests many things without 

 actually drawing them. The sumptuous, bewildering, mazy effect is all 

 there, but when we attempt to analyze it in detail it eludes us. The 

 flank of the wall receding up the Mukuntuweap is for a mile or two simi- 

 larly decorated, but soon breaks into new forms much more impressive 

 and wonderful. A row of towers half a mile high is quarried out of the 

 palisade, and stands well advanced from its face. There is an eloquence 

 in their forms which stirs the imagination with a singular power, and 

 kindles in the mind of the dullest observer a glowing response. Just 

 behind them, and rising a thousand feet higher, is the eastern temple, 

 crowned with a cylindric dome of white sandstone ; but since it is, in 

 many respects, a repetition of the nearer western temple, we may turn 

 our attention to the latter. Directly in front of us a complex group of 

 white towers, springing from a central pile, mounts upwards to the 

 clouds. Out of their midst, and high over all, rises a dome-like mass, 

 which dominates the entire landscape. It is almost pure white, with brill- 

 iant streaks of carmine descending its vertical walls. At the summit it 

 [8 truncated, and a flat tablet is laid upon the top, showing its edge of 

 deep red. It is impossible to liken this object to any familiar shape, for 

 it resembles none. Yet its shape is far from being indefinite; on the 

 contrary, it has a definiteness and individuality which extort an excla- 

 mation of surprise when first beheld. There is no name provided for 

 such an object, nor is it worth while to invent one. Call it a dome ; not 

 because it has the ordinary shape of such a structure, but because it per- 

 forms the function of a dome. 



The towers which surround it are of inferior mass and altitude, but 

 each of them is a study of fine form and architectural effect. They arc; 

 white above, and change to a strong, rich red below. Dome and towers 

 are planted upon a substructure no less admirable. Its plan is in- 

 definite, but its profiles are perfectly systematic. A curtain wall 1,400 

 feet high descends vertically from the eaves of the temple and is suc- 

 ceeded by a steep slope of ever-widening base courses leading down to 



