accept this music for ever floating in the upper air as part of the
city's life--the most spiritual, poetical, and recreative part of it.
Nothing of the kind has ever been tried in London. The crashing peals
of a dozen large bells banged violently with clapper instead of softly
struck with hammer, the exasperating dong, or ding, dong, of the
Ritualist temple over the way, or the hoarse, gong-like roar of Big
Ben--that is all we know about bells in London, and no form of church
discipline could be more ferocious. Bell noise and bell music are two
different things.' This fanciful tower had its four corner towerlets,
suggesting the old burly Scotch pattern, which indeed came from
France; while the vane on the top still characteristically flourishes
the national Flemish lion.

Most bizarre, not to say extravagant, was the great cathedral, which
was laid out on strange 'lines,' having a huge circular chapel or
pavilion of immense height in front, whose round roof was capped by a
vast bulbous spire, in shape something after the pattern of a gigantic
mangel-wurzel! This astonishing decoration had a quaint and
extraordinary effect, seen, as it was, from any part of the city. Next
came the nave, whilst the transepts straggled about wildly, and a
gigantic fortress-like tower reared itself from the middle. Correct
judges will tell us that all this is debased work, and 'corrupt
style;' but, nevertheless, I confess to being both astonished and
pleased.

This was the great festival of the _Corpus Domini_, and, indeed,
already all available bells in the place had been jangling noisily. It
was now barely seven o'clock, yet on entering the vast nave I found
that the 'Grand Mass' had begun, and the whole was full to the door,
while in the great choir were ranged about a hundred young girls