treated like a slave by his assassins, and driven twelve miles on foot before the horse of his murderer.  Ransomed at length for six hundred thousand measures of wheat by her brother Honorius, who handed her over struggling to Constantius, one of his generals.  But, once married, her reluctance ceased; and she set herself to advance the interests of herself and husband, ruling him as she had done the first one.  Her purpose was accomplished when he was declared joint emperor with Honorius.  He died shortly after; and scandalous stories of her intimacy with her brother caused her removal to Constantinople; but she came back again, and reigned long as the regent of her son, Valentinian III., —­a feeble youth, who never grew to have either passions or talents, and was very likely, as was said, enervated by his mother in dissolute indulgence, so that she might be supreme.  But she died at Rome in 450, much praised for her orthodoxy and her devotion to the Trinity.  And there was her daughter, Honoria, who ran off with a chamberlain, and afterward offered to throw herself into the arms of Attila who wouldn’t take her as a gift at first, but afterward demanded her, and fought to win her and her supposed inheritance.  But they were a bad lot altogether; and it is no credit to a Christian of the nineteenth century to stay in this tomb so long.

Near this mausoleum is the magnificent Basilica of St. Vitale, built in the reign of Justinian, and consecrated in 547, I was interested to see it because it was erected in confessed imitation of St. Sophia at Constantinople, is in the octagonal form, and has all the accessories of Eastern splendor, according to the architectural authorities.  Its effect is really rich and splendid; and it rather dazzled us with its maze of pillars, its upper and lower columns, its galleries, complicated capitals, arches on arches, and Byzantine intricacies.  To the student of the very early ecclesiastical art, it must be an object of more interest than even of wonder.  But what I cared most to see were the mosaics in the choir, executed in the time of Justinian, and as fresh and beautiful as on the day they were made.  The mosaics and the exquisite arabesques on the roof of the choir, taken together, are certainly unequaled by any other early church decoration I have seen; and they are as interesting as they are beautiful.  Any description of them is impossible; but mention may be made of two characteristic groups, remarkable for execution, and having yet a deeper interest.

In one compartment of the tribune is the figure of the Emperor Justinian, holding a vase with consecrated offerings, and surrounded by courtiers and soldiers.  Opposite is the figure of the Empress Theodora, holding a similar vase, and attended by ladies of her court.  There is a refinement and an elegance about the empress, a grace and sweet dignity, that is fascinating.  This is royalty, —­stately and cold perhaps:  even the mouth may be a little cruel, I begin to perceive,