There are mosaics here which date from the tenth century; and there are mosaics which are being renewed at this moment, for the prosperity of the church is continually in the thoughts of the city fathers.  The earliest is that of Christ, the Virgin, and S. Mark, on the inside wall over the central door.  My own favourites are all among the earlier ones.  Indeed, some of the later ones are almost repulsively flamboyant and self-conscious.  Particularly I like the great scene of Christ’s agony high up on the right wall, with its lovely green and gold border, touched with red.  But all the patterns, especially in the roof arches, are a delight, especially those with green in them.  I like too the picture of Christ on a white ass in the right transept, with the children laying their cloaks in His way.  And the naive scene of Christ’s temptation above it, and the quaint row of disciples beneath it, waiting to have their feet washed.

Of the more modern mosaics the “Annunciation” and “Adoration of the Magi” are among the most pleasing.

There are some curious and interesting early mosaics in the chapel of S. Isidoro in the left transept.  It is always dark in this tiny recess, but bit by bit the incidents in the pictures are revealed.  They are very dramatic, and the principal scene of the saint’s torture by being dragged over the ground by galloping horses is repeated in relief on the altar.  I have failed to find any life of any S. Isidoro that relates the story.  Note the little bronze lions on each side of the altar—­two more for that census of Venetian lions which I somewhere suggest might be made.  The little chapel on the left of S. Isidoro’s is known as the Cappella dei Mascoli, or males, for hither come the young wives of Venice to pray that they may bring forth little gondoliers.  That at any rate is one story; another says that it was the chapel of a confraternity of men to which no woman might belong.  In the mosaic high up on the left is a most adorably gay little church, and on the altar are a pretty baby and angels.  On a big pillar close to this chapel is a Madonna with a votive rifle hung by it; but I have been unable to find its story.  It might be a moving one.

It is not detail, however lovely, for which one seeks S. Mark’s, but general impressions, and these are inexhaustible.  It is a temple of beauty and mystery in which to loiter long, and, as I have said, just by the S. Liberale in the gallery of the right transept, I made my seat.  From this point one sees under the most favourable conditions the mosaic of the entry into Jerusalem; the choir; the choir screen with its pillars and saints; the two mysterious pulpits, beneath which children creep and play on great days; and all the miracle of the pavements.  From here one can follow the Mass and listen to the singing, undisturbed by the moving crowd.