A recent Oxford Almanac represents the Interior of the Cathedral as it appeared in 1876, before the new woodwork of the Choir and the Reredos. Both were needed, and both are beautiful in their way; but the reredos has the fault or misfortune of the new one in St. Paul’s, London--nothing can make it look like part of the structure. The rich depth of tint and carven gloom are fine. Still the general effect of the Cathedral, with its bright windows and warm stone-tints, is rather one of lightness and pleasant colour, like pages of a Missal, as Ruskin says of St. Mark’s. The new glass by Morris and Faulkner, after Burne Jones, is decidedly beyond any praise we have room to give it here: the great North Transept window glows with all the fires which a fervid fancy can bestow on the inwards of the Dragon. Clayton and Bell’s windows are beautiful in crimson and white; and all we can say of Jonah’s dear old gourd is that we hope its shadow may now never be less. There are some works of art of considerable interest in the Library, amidst a number of no particular value. On the right of the door, the Nativity of Titian was certainly a part of Charles I.’s collection, and is probably an original, though it reminds one of Bonifazio. There is a portrait of A. Vezale by Tintoret; and a small head attributed to Holbein, of the greatest beauty. We cannot feel sure about the John Bellini Madonna; but the Piero della Francesca Madonna with Angels is beautiful and interesting. There are four very authentic Mantegnas, one of which (No. 59, Christ bearing the Cross) certainly belonged to Charles I. The possible Giorgione of Diana and her Nymphs is worth attention; and there is a genuine-looking Veronese, with his beautiful striped silk drapery, of the Marriage of St. Catherine. Two good portraits and the unfinished man-at-arms by Vandyke, with the admirable brush-work in white on the horse, are in the east room on the other side of the great door, and complete our list of the more modern pictures. The more ancient Italian schools, from the semi-Byzantine Margheritone to Taddeo Gaddi and the Giotteschi, are well represented at the western end of the lower floor of the Library. Margheritone is said, in the notes to Mrs. Browning’s _Casa Guidi Windows_, to have died of disgust (“infastidito”) at the successes of the new, Italian or Cimabue, school; and she remarks that “Strong Cimabue bore up well Against Giotto.” It is most satisfactory to have original works by all these three. The Margheritone is a thoroughly Byzantine saint, with a gold background and an expression certainly best characterized by the word “infastidito.” Next comes the Cimabue triptych: its central Madonna has some resemblance to the Borgo Allegri picture on a small scale. The Giottos show some such advance of art in his hands as Dante described. There is an apparently genuine Filippo Lippi, which must be of no small value.