the fortified enclosure. In vain had Constantine striven to create a new Rome on the Bosphorus which should rival in grandeur the historic capital; to the last a native of Constantinople would be struck with wonder and admiration on beholding the city of the Tiber.[1] From some elevated post, such as the Capitol, crowned with its massive temples, an observer might comprehend in a glance some of the main features of the world-subduing metropolis. His eye would be riveted in succession by the huge bulk of the Coliseum, girded with pillars and statues rising in four tiers to a height of one hundred and sixty feet; by the tall embossed columns of Trajan and Antonine projecting above their respective peristyles; by the expansive dome of the Pantheon sheathed with bronze tiles; by the Mausoleum of Hadrian, a commanding pile on the river side, also encircled by superimposed rows of pillars and statues; and by the tomb of Augustus, a lofty mound ascending from a cylindrical base by a slope planted with evergreen trees, and surmounted by a colossus of that emperor.[2] Yet were a Roman, who had lived in the age of the Caesars, to revisit the capital in the sixth century, he would be struck by some remarkable changes. Traces of the religious revolution which had culminated in the fourth century were everywhere apparent; Paganism effete, and Christianity bursting into bloom. Deserted temples, neglected and often verging to dilapidation, their columns tottering and sometimes fallen to the ground, offended the artistic sense. On the other hand Christian basilicas had sprung up, and
