In the other recesses stags are seen drinking at fountains, and birds and arabesques cover the beautiful tesseræ groundwork. The soffits of all the windows, which are filled with thin slabs of alabaster, are adorned by a deep red, and a black and white pattern on a gold ground.

S. Vitale, the building to the right in the sketch, was erected in the reign of Justinian by Archbishop Ecclesius on the spot where S. Vitalis suffered martyrdom. Like most of the early buildings of Ravenna it has suffered from the nature of the ground on which it stands, and is buttressed up and held together by great iron ties and clamps. The interior is a vast circle with a domed roof supported by eight arches and the same number of piers, between which are semicircular two-storied recesses. These are divided by three arches with plain columns that have double capitals. A circular aisle extends round the lower part of the church carrying a gallery above. The brick walls, against which are placed many ancient sarcophagi, were originally covered with slabs of marble, and as S. Vitale and most of Ravenna's other churches are now monumentali nazionale it is to be hoped that marble may some day once more line this effective interior.

The superb mosaics on the vault of the Choir and Tribune are of the sixth century, and as fresh to-day as when first put up. The semi-dome of the apse has a fine gold ground on which the Almighty is enthroned on a globe with Archangels around. Above them float crimson and blue clouds. He gives to S. Vitalis, who stands at His right hand, the crown of martyrdom; on His left is S. Eutychius offering a model of the church. The vault of the Tribune itself is decorated with one of the most gorgeous arrangements of colour in arabesques and birds that could be imagined. On one wall is a fine mosaic of Justinian surrounded by courtiers, and S. Maximianus with two accompanying priests. The Emperor's robe is deep purple embroidered with gold and mother-of-pearl, those that the others wear are white and gold with coloured edging. On the opposite wall is the Empress Theodora attended by the ladies of her court. Here again the costumes give a fine colour note, and the expressions on the different faces, which are very Eastern in type, are remarkable. A curtain forms part of the background of this mosaic, and is, curiously enough, green, white and red, the Italian colours of the present day. On the arch are half-lengths of our Saviour and the twelve Apostles, and the two martyred sons of S. Vitalis, SS. Gervasius and Protasius whose remains rest in the church of S. Ambrogio in Milan.

All the angles of the mosaics are rounded off as in S. Mark's at Venice and elsewhere. But in S. Vitale they are patterned with bands of distinct colours, and do not interfere with the general effect as they do in S. Mark's, where the brilliant gold catches the light and accentuates the angle. The whole colour scheme of the decoration is green and white relieved by a dull purple, black and deep red set on a rich dull golden ground. However much one admires the later mosaics of Venice and Torcello, Palermo and Monreale, the palm for beautiful colour must be awarded to the glorious art of Ravenna.

At the bases of the columns in the Choir stand the celebrated pagan bas-reliefs called the "Throne of Neptune." In both, a sea-monster lies extended beneath the throne of the god. That on the right has a winged figure holding a trident; in the other, two figures bear a huge conch shell. Sea-horses, dolphins and shells, crowded in between Corinthian pilasters, form the lower panels which two nude boys bear on their shoulders staggering under the heavy weight.

Ravenna's cathedral contains nothing of any architectural interest, as it was rebuilt in the bad period of the eighteenth century. The original edifice, which was erected by S. Ursus in the fourth century, was known as the "Basilica Ursiana." The Archbishop's Palace adjoins the east end, and in it is one of Ravenna's earliest places of Christian worship. The little chapel to which we refer was probably built about 430 and was the work of Peter Chrysologos. With the exception of painted restorations to some of its frescoes it is to-day just as it was when the decorators left it more than fourteen hundred years ago. In the vestibule leading to the chapel one may see the ivory throne of S. Maximianus. This fine specimen of sixth-century art is covered with little ivory panels on which bas-reliefs tell the history of Joseph. In front of the seat are the Saint's monogram, the panels beneath representing the favourite theme of our Lord as a shepherd amidst his sheep, with the four Evangelists attendant. The four legs of the throne appear to be solid ivory; those at the back go right up to the top and must at one time have been splendid tusks.

To the north of the Cathedral is the Baptistery. The mosaics of the fifth century which line the interior are in a very light key of colour, the scheme employed being light blue, white and gold. Situated between the eight arches of the octagon are sixteen bas-reliefs of the prophets executed in a cream-coloured marble. The arches themselves are composed of two members, one within the other, the outer of which is gold edged with white; and the inner has a remarkably fine quality of blue tesseræ. In the centre of the dome S. John is seen baptizing our Saviour, who stands in the waters of Jordan surrounded by the twelve Apostles. The font, which stands on a fine inverted Corinthian capital, was at one time a vase in the Temple of Jupiter. This Temple was situated on the site of the Baptistery, and eight of its columns form the support of the octagon arches.

The cathedral, which is the church with a dome in the illustration, possesses one of the round towers peculiar to Ravenna. The date of these towers is uncertain, but is probably the eleventh or twelfth century. Insecure foundations have caused most of them to tilt to one side—note the angle of the Torre del Pubblico in the sketch—and necessitated a great deal of restoration.

Theodoric erected his palace and the basilica which adjoins, in the wide thoroughfare that runs north and south from the Porta Serrata to the Porta Nuova. Very little, if anything, remains of the first-named building. And judging from the Romanesque features of a brick colonnade and the portion of a sometime large dwelling that stands behind it, it is very doubtful whether any of the original palace exists. We have it on record, too, that Charles the Great carried off the marble columns of Theodoric's building to adorn his own palace in Aachen; and, as he did this, there is every probability that he took other material as well. But, if we have nothing left of the Gothic king's residence, we have his grand Arian basilica intact. Theodoric dedicated his church to S. Martin, but when the body of S. Apollinaris was deposited in it, a rededication to him took place. S. Apollinare Nuovo, as it has since been called in contradistinction to the other basilica at Classis, is famous throughout Christendom; famous for the finest mosaic in the world. On the north wall, in the blank space where the triforium might be, facing the sun, the Virgin is seen seated on an orange coloured cushion which rests upon a throne. She holds in her lap the Child. Two angels stand on either side. Their robes are white, hers is deep purple fringed with gold and sparkling jewels. Advancing towards her are the Three Kings of the East, whose names appear above each, Melchior, Gaspar and Balthassar. In their hands are silver vessels. The first angel holds his out to receive them. Beyond the kings, in a row, twenty-two virgins come bearing crowns. They are garbed in light purple with white veils; round their waists are bejewelled belts. The expression on the face of each is different, and each is in a slightly different attitude; one is accompanied by a little white dog. They tread lightly on the green sward from which many little flowers lift their humble heads. Between each a palm-tree grows with spreading leaves and clustering dates. It is a wonderful procession. The eagerness and haste of the Three Kings, the dignified and stately rhythm of the slowly pacing Virgins are so well realised, that, although there is no idea of anything but flat decoration in the rendering, a feeling of continuous motion holds one throughout. In the darkened corner at the west end of the mosaic are the walls of the City of Classis. The golden tesseræ of these walls are so dark and frowning that they might almost be called brown. Brown they appear to be, but this is because, through an arched opening, three ships with white sails come gliding into port over the cærulean blue of the sea. The eye is thus carried along the whole length of the mosaic without a single jarring note. From the white angels at one end to the white sails at the other, it travels along with a consciousness of repose, and one feels instinctively that one is in the presence of a masterpiece.