The lofty white marble columns support a vaulted roof painted in fresco, from which are suspended a thousand lamps that emit a mild and steady effulgence.

The great altar is illuminated; the priests, in glittering raiment, pace slowly to and fro.

The large voice of the organ, murmuring to itself awhile, breaks forth in a shout of melody; and a boy's clear, sonorous treble tones pierce the incense-laden air.
"Credo!"-- and the silver, trumpet-like notes fall from the immense height of the building like a bell ringing in a pure atmosphere--"Credo in unum Deum; Patrem omni-potentum, factorem coeli et terrae, visibilium omnium et invisibilium." The cathedral echoes with answering voices; and, involuntarily kneeling, I follow the words of the grand chant.

I hear the music slacken; the notes of rejoicing change to a sobbing and remorseful wail; the organ shudders like a forest of pines in a tempest, "Crucifixus etiam pro nobis; passus et sepultus est." A darkness grows up around me; my senses swim.

The music altogether ceases; but a brilliant radiance streams through a side-door of the church, and twenty maidens, clad in white and crowned with myrtle, pacing two by two, approach me.