"They are fastened together not with lime (τίτανος), called 'unslaked' (ἄσβεστον), not with ashphaltum, the boast of Semiramis at Babylon, nor anything of the kind, but with lead, which, poured into the interstices, 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 to its glory, though the reflections of the gold upon the marble surpass it in beauty. There are two aisles one above another on each side, which do not in any way lessen the size of the church, but add to its width. In length they reach quite to the ends of the building, but in height they fall short of it; these also have domed ceilings adorned with gold. Of these two porticoes one (ground floor) is set apart for male and the other (upper floor) 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 these gynaeceum galleries, or the numerous porticoes (στοάς) and cloistered courts (περιστόλους αὐλάς) 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 the glittering white, and those too, which nature, painter-like, 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 favour of God, that this work has been perfected; the 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 is felt 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, magnify it in their talk. Moreover, it is impossible accurately to describe the gold and silver and gems presented by the Emperor Justinian; but by the description of one part, I leave the rest to be inferred. That part of the church which is especially sacred, and where the priests alone are allowed to enter, which is called the sanctuary (θυσιαστήριον), contains forty thousand pounds' weight of silver.

"The above is an account, written in the most abridged and cursory manner, describing in the fewest possible words the most admirable structure of the church at Constantinople, which is called the Great Church, built by the Emperor Justinian, who did not merely supply the funds for it but assisted at its building by the labour and powers of his mind, as I will now explain. Of the two arches (τῶν ἀψίδων) which I lately mentioned—the architects (μηχανοποιοί) call them loroi—that one which stands towards the east had been built up on each side, but had not altogether been completed in the middle, where it was still imperfect; when the piers (πεσσοί) upon which the building rested, unable to support the weight which was put upon them, somehow all at once split open, and seemed as though before long they would fall to pieces. Upon this, Anthemius and Isidorus, terrified at what had taken place, referred the matter to the Emperor, losing all confidence in their own skill. He at once, I know not by what impulse, but probably inspired by Heaven, for he is not an architect, ordered them to complete this arch; for it, said he, resting upon itself will no longer need the piers below (τῶν ἔνερθεν πεσσῶν). Now if this story were unsupported by witnesses, I am well assured that it would seem to be written in order to flatter, and would be quite incredible; but as there are many witnesses now alive of what then took place I shall not hesitate to finish it. The workmen performed his bidding, the arch was safely suspended, and proved by experiment the truth of his conception. So much then for this part of the building; now with regard to the other arches, those looking to the south and to the north, the following incidents took place. When the (arches) called loroi (λῶροι) were raised aloft during the building of the church everything below them laboured under their weight, and the columns which are placed there shed little scales, as though they had been planed.

"Alarmed at this, the architects (μηχανικοί) again referred the matter to the Emperor, who devised the following scheme. He ordered the upper part of the work that was giving way to be taken down where it touched the arches for the present, and to be replaced afterwards when the damp had thoroughly left the fabric. This was done, and the building has stood safely ever since, so that the structure, as it were, bears witness to the Emperor's skill."

The description of Procopius is for us no mere antiquarian record. It is still a guide which may direct us what to look for and how to explain what we see. S. Sophia is unique in the fact of its survival in continued use, and in its preservation from the horrors of "restoration," which have robbed us, all over the civilised world, of the true work of the greatest Christian architects. The Turks, it must be honestly said, deserve the thanks of Europe for their preservation of their greatest work of sacred art. In 1847 Abdul Mejid undertook the reparation of the damage done by time. He employed the Italian architect Fossali, who was probably the first to do any important work at the main part of the building since the time of John VI. Palæologus. The work on the whole was well done; and it is plain that it must have been absolutely necessary. The wonder is that his work was so conservative as it was. It is impossible not to echo the gratitude of the experts that "far from being a ruin, the church is one of the best preserved of so ancient monuments, and in regard to its treatment by the Turks we can only be grateful that S. Sophia has not been situated in the more learned cities of Europe, such as Rome, Aachen, or Oxford, during 'the period of revived interest in ecclesiastical antiquities.'"

Evagrius, who may also be regarded as practically a contemporary of the original building, has also left a description which is worth quoting, of this "great and incomparable work, hitherto unparalleled in history, the Church's greatest temple, fair and surpassing, and beyond the power of words to describe."[55]

"The nave," he says, "of the temple is a dome, lifted on four arches, and rising to so great a height that from below it is difficult for the observers to reach with their eyes the apex of the hemisphere; while from above none who might get there, howsoever hardy he might be, would for a moment attempt to lean over and cast his eyes to the bottom. And the arches spring clear from the floor up to the covering which forms the roof; and on the right and left columns, wrought of Thessalian stone, are ranged with (i.e. are in line with) the piers of the arches and support upper chambers [enclosed] with other similar columns, so enabling them that wish to lean forward and see the rites that are being performed: and it is here that the Empress also when she is present on the festivals assists at the celebration of the mysteries. But the arches to the east and the west are left clear without anything to intercept the marvellous impression of the huge dimensions. And there are colonnades under the upper chambers already mentioned, finishing off the vast structure with small columns and arches." It may be noted here that the figures that Evagrius gives are inaccurate. The church is 250 feet long from east to west, not including the narthex or the apse; and it is 235 feet across.

IN THE GALLERY OF S. SOPHIA