rectangular form, which signifies that he was living at the time of the representation; he offers a model of the altar to the Saint. The names Sanctus Ambrosius and Dominus Angilbertus are inscribed beside them. In the companion medallion we see Ambrose again, crowning _Volvinus magister phaber_ (Master Volvinus the Smith), as the inscription describes him, the German artificer whom the Archbishop charged to make this altar, art at that time being far more advanced beyond the Alps than in Italy. The panels contain scenes from the legend of St. Ambrose; the Saint as a babe in the cradle attracting a swarm of bees by his honeyed mouth; journeying on horseback into Liguria, where he was prefect; flying at full gallop from Milan to avoid being Bishop, and admonished by a voice from on high to return; being baptized and ordained Bishop; celebrating Mass, while a cleric touches him on the back, showing how, as the legend relates, sleep has fallen on him and he is being transported in a vision to Tours, where in another panel he is represented laying the dead St. Martin in his tomb; again he appears preaching, inspired by an angel; treading beside the altar on the gouty foot of a bystander and healing it; seeing Christ in a dream, who announces to him his approaching death; offering his body to God as he dies; lastly, his dead body is being carried to Heaven by angels. These reliefs are very reminiscent of classic forms and have a surprising grace and freedom for the period. The representations of St. Ambrose’s story in particular are full of life and vigour, and show much beauty of composition and modelling, though they betray the era of their origin in certain awkwardnesses of proportion and grotesque attitudes. Here and there cameos of exquisite and evidently antique workmanship are let into the borders, and gems with Greek words cut in them; but perhaps the greatest beauty of all is the enamel—just beginning at that time to be used extensively in decorative art—and the delicate designs in which it is composed.