. Its bronze doors were wrought by smiths of Trani and Pisa.
Its walls were incrusted with the mosaics of Constantinople. The
woodwork of its roof, and the emblazoned patterns in porphyry and
serpentine and glass and smalto, which cover its whole surface, were
designed by Oriental decorators. Norman sculptors added their
dog-tooth and chevron to the mouldings of its porches; Greeks,
Frenchmen, and Arabs may have tried their skill in turn upon the
multitudinous ornaments of its cloister capitals. 'The like of which
church,' said Lucius III. in 1182, 'hath not been constructed by any
king even from ancient times, and such an one as must compel all men
to admiration.' These words remain literally and emphatically true.
Other cathedrals may surpass that of Monreale in sublimity,
simplicity, bulk, strength, or unity of plan. None can surpass it in
the strange romance with which the memory of its many artificers
invests it. None again can exceed it in richness and glory, in the
gorgeousness of a thousand decorative elements subservient to one
controlling thought. 'It is evident,' says Fergusson in his 'History
of Architecture,' 'that all the architectural features in the
building were subordinate in the eyes of the builders to the mosaic
decorations, which cover every part of the interior, and are in fact
the glory and the pride of the edifice, and alone entitle it to rank
among the finest of mediaeval churches.' The whole of the Christian
history is depicted in this series of mosaics; but on first
entering, one form alone compels attention. The semi-dome of the
eastern apse above the high altar is entirely filled with a gigantic
half-length figure of Christ. He raises His right hand to bless, and
with His left holds an open book on which is written in Greek and
Latin, 'I am the Light of the world.' His face is solemn and severe,
rather than mild or piteous; and round His nimbus runs the legend
[Greek: 'Iesous Christos ho pantokrator]. Below Him on a smaller
scale are ranged the archangels and the mother of the Lord, who
holds the child upon her knees. Thus Christ appears twice upon this
wall, once as the Omnipotent Wisdom, the Word by whom all things
were made, and once as God deigning to assume a shape of flesh and
dwell with men. The magnificent image of supreme Deity seems to fill
with a single influence and to dominate the whole building. The
house with all its glory is His. He dwells there like Pallas in her
Parthenon o