In Ravenna itself, perhaps what strikes us most is the abrupt transition everywhere discernible from monuments of vast antiquity to buildings of quite modern date.  There seems to be no interval between the marbles and mosaics of Justinian or Theodoric and the insignificant frippery of the last century.  The churches of Ravenna—­S.  Vitale, S. Apollinare, and the rest—­are too well known, and have been too often described by enthusiastic antiquaries, to need a detailed notice in this place.  Every one is aware that the ecclesiastical customs and architecture of the early Church can be studied in greater perfection here than elsewhere.  Not even the basilicas and mosaics of Rome, nor those of Palermo and Monreale, are equal for historical interest to those of Ravenna.  Yet there is not one single church which remains entirely unaltered and unspoiled.  The imagination has to supply the atrium or outer portico from one building, the vaulted baptistery with its marble font from another, the pulpits and ambones from a third the tribune from a fourth, the round brick bell-tower from a fifth, and then to cover all the concave roofs and chapel walls with grave and glittering mosaics.

There is nothing more beautiful in decorative art than the mosaics of such tiny buildings as the tomb of Galla Placidia or the chapel of the Bishop’s Palace.  They are like jewelled and enamelled cases; not an inch of wall can be seen which is not covered with elaborate patterns of the brightest colours.  Tall date-palms spring from the floor with fruit and birds among their branches, and between them stand the pillars and apostles of the Church.  In the spandrels and lunettes above the arches and the windows angels fly with white extended wings.  On every vacant place are scrolls and arabesques of foliage,—­birds and beasts, doves drinking from the vase, and peacocks spreading gorgeous plumes—­a maze of green and gold and blue.  Overhead, the vault is powdered with stars gleaming upon the deepest azure, and in the midst is set an aureole embracing the majestic head of Christ, or else the symbol of the sacred fish, or the hand of the Creator pointing from a cloud.  In Galla Placidia’s tomb these storied vaults spring above the sarcophagi of empresses and emperors, each lying in the place where he was laid more than twelve centuries ago.  The light which struggles through the narrow windows serves to harmonise the brilliant hues and make a gorgeous gloom.

Besides these more general and decorative subjects, many of the churches are adorned with historical mosaics, setting forth the Bible narrative or incidents from the life of Christian emperors and kings.  In S. Apollinare Nuovo there is a most interesting treble series of such mosaics extending over both walls of the nave.  On the left hand, as we enter, we see the town of Classis; on the right the palace of Theodoric, its doors and loggie rich with curtains, and its friezes blazing with coloured ornaments.  From the city