in which this classical influence may be seen is in the Imperial
Library at Vienna, being a work on Botany, by Dioscorides, written
about 400 A. D. The miniatures in this manuscript have many of
the characteristics of Roman work.

The pigments used in Byzantine manuscripts are glossy, a great deal
of ultramarine being used. The high lights are usually of gold,
applied in sharp glittering lines, and lighting up the picture with
very decorative effect. In large wall mosaics the same characteristics
may be noted, and it is often suggested that these gold lines may
have originated in an attempt to imitate cloisonne enamel, in which
the fine gold line separates the different coloured spaces one from
another. This theory is quite plausible, as cloisonne was made by
the Byzantine goldsmiths.

M. Lecoy de la Marche tells us that the first recorded name of an
illuminator is that of a woman--Lala de Cizique, a Greek, who
painted on ivory and on parchment in Rome during the first Christian
century. But such a long period elapses between her time and that
which we are about to study, that she can here occupy only the
position of being referred to as an interesting isolated case.

The Byzantine is a very easy style to recognize, because of the
inflexible stiffness of the figures, depending for any beauty largely
upon the use of burnished gold, and the symmetrical folds of the
draperies, which often show a sort of archaic grace. Byzantine
art is not so much representation as suggestion and symbolism.
There is a book which may still be consulted, called "A Byzantine
Guide to Painting," which contains accurate recipes to be followed
in painting pictures of each saint, the colours prescribed for the
dress of the Virgin, and the grouping to be adopted in representing
each of the standard Scriptural scenes; and it has hardly from
the first occurred to any Byzantine artist to depart from these
regulations. The heads and faces lack individuality, and are outlined
and emphasized with hard, unsympathetic black lines; the colouring
is sallow and the expression stolid. Any attempt at delineating
emotion is grotesque, and grimacing. The beauty, for in spite of
all these drawbacks there is great beauty, in Byzantine manuscripts,
is, as has been indicated, a charm of colour and gleaming gold
rather than of design. In the Boston Art Museum there is a fine
example of a large single miniature of a Byzantine "Flight into
Egypt," in which the gold