The Emperor Justinian and the architects Anthemius and Isidorus used many devices to construct so lofty a church with security. One alone of these I will at this present time explain, by which a man may form some opinion of the strength of the whole work; as for the others, I am not able to discover them all, and find it impossible to explain them in words. It is as follows:—The piers[4] of which I just now spoke are not constructed in the same manner as the rest of the building, but in this fashion: they consist of quadrangular courses of stones, rough by nature, but made smooth by art; of these stones, those which make the projecting angles of the pier are cut angularly, while those which go in the middle parts of the sides are cut square. They are fastened together not with what is called unslaked lime, not with bitumen, the boast of Semiramis at Babylon, nor anything of the kind, but with lead, which is poured between the interstices, and which, pervading the whole structure, has sunk into the joints of the stones, and binds them together; this is how they are built. Let us now proceed to describe the remaining parts of the church. The entire ceiling is covered with pure gold, which adds glory to its beauty, though the rays of light reflected upon the gold from the marble surpass it in beauty; there are two porticos on each side, which do not in any way dwarf the size of the church, but add to its width. In length they reach quite to the ends, but in height they fall short of it; these also have a domed ceiling and are adorned with gold. Of these two porticos, the one is set apart for male, and the other for female worshippers; there is no variety in them, nor do they differ in any respect from one another, but their very equality and similarity add to the beauty of the church. Who could describe the galleries[5] of the portion set apart for women, or the numerous porticos and cloistered courts with which the church is surrounded? who could tell of the beauty of the columns and marbles with which the church is adorned? one would think that one had come upon a meadow full of flowers in bloom: who would not admire the purple tints of some and the green of others, the glowing red and glittering white, and those, too, which nature, like a painter, has marked with the strongest contrasts of colour? Whoever enters there to worship perceives at once that it is not by any human strength or skill, but by the favour of God that this work has been perfected; his mind rises sublime to commune with God, feeling that He cannot be far off, but must especially love to dwell in the place which He has chosen; and this takes place not only when a man sees it for the first time, but it always makes the same impression upon him, as though he had never beheld it before. No one ever became weary of this spectacle, but those who are in the Church delight in what they see, and, when they leave it, magnify it in their talk about it; moreover, it is