There are a number of ivories of a double character, strongly influenced by Byzantine art yet not so closely allied to the Ravenna Throne as those already mentioned. The magnificent angel in the British Museum should probably be classed among these (frontispiece). It is the first half of a diptych of unusual size, and though the drapery is a little unmeaning in places, still it is good, and with the rich architecture and the thickly feathered wings, forms a splendid whole. There is nothing to compare with it in the sixth century for firmness of design; yet the tendency to fullness in the face and the wealth of detail are signs of lateness, and it can hardly be dated with any certainty before the last years of the fifth century. The first half of the Greek inscription reads, “_Receive these things that are present and learning the cause_—”. It is sad to see how soon this fine type was debased and moon faces and unstructural forms became the order of the day. A beautiful book cover in the Bibliothèque nationale at Paris (Fig. 11) came from the Cathedral of Metz, where it had been for centuries a model to the Carlovingian and German craftsmen. The pure design and justness of the movements, together with the generous folds of the drapery, all denote a close study of the fine work of antiquity; yet the complication of the design and the exaggerated fineness of the carving, which is pierced right through, show how far the work is from the simplicity of ancient art. The Italian craftsman had still individuality enough to resist the Byzantine influence in some things. The Virgin is draped like a Roman lady, and Herod has not yet donned the dress of a Byzantine functionary, as on the later ivories where court etiquette reigns supreme. The artist of the Milan book covers had not so much strength, and has succumbed still more to Byzantine influence. These panels have been enriched at a later date by a jewelled lamb and cross. Much of the dress and detail is still Latin, but he draws his inspiration from the apocryphal gospel of Nicodemus, and represents the Virgin receiving the Divine message, not in her own house but by the side of a stream, from which she is drawing water in a tall vase. The three plaques of the casket of Werden (now in the Victoria and Albert Museum) belong to this series; there are the same rushing figures of the Magi, bearing strange gifts on flat dishes, and the Virgin also stands by the stream. A curious survivor of paganism is present at the Baptism of Our Lord, the allegorical figure of Jordan, not by any means a modest accessory, but a large muscular figure, proudly comparing his fine shoulders with the rather meagre proportions of the sacred figures. Decidedly the Christian artists preferred the Spirit to the Flesh, and the era of elongated figures and champagne bottle shoulders was soon to commence.