inscription in gilt metal letters, gleaming like a crown of gold upon the head of the gateway. The legend, “Theodosius adorns this place, after the doom of the usurper,” looked towards the west; while the words, “He who constructed the Golden Gate brings in the Golden Age,” faced the east. When incorporated in the fortifications of Theodosius II., the Golden Gate served as the State entrance to the city. Another monument of the city due to Theodosius is the obelisk which still keeps its place, as though the symbol of eternity, amid the ruins of the Hippodrome. It was brought from Egypt before the Emperor’s reign, but was successfully placed in position under his auspices, and two inscriptions, one in Latin, the other in Greek, record the pride which the achievement excited. They read to the effect that what others had vainly attempted was accomplished by Theodosius during the prefecture of Proclus--the time taken being thirty days according to the Latin legend, thirty-two days according to the Greek version. [Illustration: A VILLAGE STORE AT KAVAK] The bas-reliefs of the pedestal on which the obelisk stands, however little they flatter the art of the period, are extremely interesting for the glimpses they afford us of life in Constantinople under Theodosius I. Any one who wishes to look upon the events of that distant day, and cares to breathe the atmosphere in which his fellowmen then lived, should come and linger before these weather-worn figures in which the Past is perpetuated. They are not of “Attic shape”; they have not the “fair attitude” of “the brede of marble men and maidens,” with which Grecian urns were overwrought. Nevertheless, they too set the permanent against the transitory scenes of our human history. Here the obelisk is still being dragged through the city to the Hippodrome amidst the deafening shouts of an enthusiastic population; it is still hoisted in breathless silence and suspense from the ground, and set firm upon its base to stand erect for these fifteen centuries. Here four-horse chariots are still driving furiously around the _spina_ of the race-course; the banners of the Factionsblue, green, white, red--still wave frantically in the air; the crack of whips, the cheers of spectators, urging steed and driver onward and faster, may still be heard; the acclamations, the strains of music, the joyous dance, the wild frenzy when the Emperor crowns the victor’s brow with laurel still rend the air. Theodosius, his Empress, his two sons, Honorius and Arcadius, still stand or sit before us. Here are the senators of New Rome, and the courtiers in attendance upon the Emperor. Barbarians, eastern and western, are here doing homage on bended knee to their conqueror, and offering him tribute. Here are the Gothic troops which Theodosius subdued and won to his side, wearing their golden collars, and guarding him with spear and shield. Here the people of the city hold