THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. Illustrated Hibrary of Wonders. rUBLISITED BY Olïessrs. (Cfjarfes Scriûiier & (Co., 654 BROADWAY, NEW YORK. Each one volume 12mo. Price per volume, $1,501 Titles of Books. No. of Illustrations "Wonders of Glass-Making, • • 49 Wonders of Italian Art, . . • . 28 The Sun, by A. Guillkmin, 58 The Moon, by A. Guillemin, . • . 60 Wonders of Optics, TO Thunder and Ligiitnino, ' . 39 Wonders op Heat, 90 Intelligence op Animals, 54 Great Hunts, . ... 22 Egypt 3,300 Years Ago, . 40 Wonders op Tompeii, .... 30 Sublime in Nature, . . 50 Bottom op tiie Ocean, .... 93 Wonders op the Heavens, . 48 Wonders op Architecture, 50 Acoustics, ...... . 114 WONDERS OP THE HUMAN BODY, 45 Lighthouses, .... . Subterranean WopvLd, .... 27 * In Tress for early publication. The (wove toorki by the publishers. sent to any address, postpaid, upon receipt of the vricâ TBE tyfc^' WOOERS OF POMPEII. BY MARC MONNIER. TRANSLAT NEW YORK: CHARLES SCRIBNER & CO., 654 BROADWAY. 1370. By transfer APR 6 1915 \* TROW & SMITH BOOK MANUF'O CO., LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. ii. in. IV. ' V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. XII. XIII. XIV. XV. XVI. XVTI. XVII f. XIX. XX. «ÎOOÎ*- Facing paga Recent Excavations Made at Pompeii in 1860, under the Direction of the Inspector, Signor Fiorelli 25 The Rubbish Trucks Going up Empty 30 Clearing out a Narrow Street in Pompeii 33 Plan of Vesuvius 39 Discovery of Loaves Baked 1800 Years Ago, in the Oven of a Baker 84 Closed House, with a Balcony, Recently Discovered. . . 87 The Nola Gate at Pompeii 96 The Herculaneum Gate Restored 99 The Tepidarium, at the Thermae 126 The Atrium of the House of Pansa Restored 138 Candelabra, Trinkets, and Kitchen Utensils Found at Pompeii 148 Earthenware and Bronze Lamps Found at Pompeii. . . . 154 Collar, Ring, Bracelet, and Ear-rings Found at Pompeii, 158 Peristyle of the House of Quaestor, at Pompeii 167 The House of Lucretius 169 The Exaedra of the House of the Poet 185 The Exaedra of the House of the Poet — Second View, 189 The Smaller Theatre at Pompeii 206 The Amphitheatre at Pompeii 220 Bodies of Pompeians Cast in the Ashes of the Erup- tion 2o9 (v) CONTEN THE EXHUMED CITY. Page The Antique Landscape. — The History of Pompeii Before and After its Destruction. — How it was Buried and Ex- humed. — Winklemann as a Prophet. — The Excavations in the Reign of Charles III., of Murat, and of Ferdi- nand. — The Excavations as they now are. — Signor Fiorelli. — Appearance of the Ruins. — What is and What is not found there 13 II. THE FORUM. Diomed's Inn. — The Niche of Minerva. — The Appearance and The Monuments of the Forum. — The Antique Tem- ple. — The Pagan ex-Voto Offerings. — The Merchants 7 City Exchange and the Petty Exchange. — The Pan- theon, or was it a Temple, a Slaughter-house, or a Tav- ern? — The Style of Cooking and the Form of Religion. vii Vlil CONTENTS. Page — The Temple of Venus. — The Basilica. — The Inscrip- tions of Passers-by upon the Walls. — The Forum Re- built 37 III. THE STREET. The Plan of Pompeii. — The Princely Names of the Houses. — Appearance of the Streets, Pavements, Sidewalks, etc. — The Shops and the Signs. — The Perfumer, the Sur- geon, etc. — An Ancient Manufactory. — Bathing Estab- lishments. — Wine-shops, Disreputable Resorts. — Hang- ing Balconies, Fountains. — Public Placards : Let us Nominate Battur ! Commit no Nuisance i — Religion on the Street 67 IV. THE SUBURBS. The Custom House. — The Fortifications and the Gates. — The Roman Highways. — The Cemetery of Pompeii. — Funerals: the Procession, the funeral Pyre, the Day of the Dead. — The Tombs and their Inscriptions. — Per- petual Leases. — Burial of the Rich, of Animals, and of the Poor. — The Villas of Diomed and Cicero . . 93 CONTENTS. IX Page V. THE TÏÏEEMiE. The Hot Baths at Rome. — The Thennse of Stabiaa. — A Tilt at Sun Dials. — A Complete Bath, as the Ancients Considered It : the Apartments, the Slaves, the Un- guents, the Strigillse. — A Saying of the Emperor Had- rian. — The Baths for Women. — The Reading Room. — The Roman Newspaper. - The Heating Apparatus . . 120 VI. THE DWELLINGS. Paratus and Pansa. — The Atrium and the Peristyle. — The Dwelling Refurnished and Repeopled. — The Slaves, the Kitchen, and the Table. — The Morning Occupations of a Pompeian. — The Toilet of a Pompeian Lady. — A Cit- izen Supper : the Courses, the Guests. — The Homes of the Poor, and the Palaces of Rome .... 135 VII. ART IN POMPEII. The Homes of the Wealthy. — The Triangular Forum and the Temples. —Pompeian Architecture: Its Merits and its Defects. — The Artists of the Little City. — The X CONTENTS. Page Paintings here. — Landscapes, Figures, Rope-dancers, Dancing-girls, Centaurs, Gods, Heroes, the Iliad Illus- trated. — Mosaics. — Statues and Statuettes. — Jewelry. — Carved Glass. — Art and Life 167 VIII. THE THEATRES. The Arrangement of the Places of Amusement. — Entrance Tickets. — The Velarium, the Orchestra, the Stage. — The Odeon. — The Holconii.— The Side Scenes, the Masks. — The Atellan Farces. — The Mimes. — Jugglers, etc. — A Remark of Cicero on the Melodramas. — The Barrack of the Gladiators. — Scratched Inscriptions, Instruments of Torture. — The Pompeian Gladiators. — The Amphi- theatre: Hunts, Combats, Butcheries, etc. . . . 199 IX. THE ERUPTION. The Deluge of Ashes. — The Deluge of Fire. — The Flight of the Pompeians. — The Preoccupations of the Pom- peian Women. — The Victims : the Family of Diomed ; the Sentinel ; the Woman Walled up in a Tomb ; the Priest of Isis ; the Lovers clinging together, etc. — The Skele- tons. — The Dead Bodies moulded by Vesuvius . . 232 DIALOGUE. 1IN A BOOKSTORE AT NAPLES.) A Traveller (entering). — Have you any work on Pompeii ? The Salesman. — Yes; we have several. Here, for instance, is Buhver's "Last Lays of Pompeii." Traveller. — Too thoroughly romantic. Salesman, — Well, here are the folios of Mazois. Traveller. — Too heavy. Salesman. — Here's Lumas's "Corricolo." Traveller. — Too light. Salesman. — How would Nicolini's magnificent work suit you? Traveller. — Oh! that's too dear. Salesman. — Here's Commander Aloe's "Guide." Traveller. — That's too dry. (xi) Xll DIALOGUE. Salesman. — Neither dry, nor romantic, nor light, nor heavy! What, then, would you have, sir? Traveller. — A small, portable work; accurate, conscientious, and within everybody's reach. Salesman. — Ah, sir, we have nothing of that kind ; besides, it is impossible to get up such a work. The Author {aside). — Who knows ? THE "Wonders of Pompeii. i. THE EXHUMED CITY. The Ant/que Landscape — TftE Hïstory of Pompeii Before and After its Destruction. — How it was Buried and Exhumed. — Winkelmann as a Prophet. — The Excavations in the Reign of Charles III., of Murat, and of Ferdinand. — The Excavations as they now are. — Signor Fiorelli. — Appearance of the Ruins. — What is and What is not Found There. A ExVilroad runs from Naples to Pompeii. Are you alone ? The trip occupies one hour, and you have just time enough to read what follows, pausing once in a while to glance at Vesuvius and the sea; the clear, bright waters hemmed in by the gentle curve of the promontories; a bluish coast that approaches and becomes green ; a green coast that withdraws into the distance and becomes blue ; Castellamare looming up, and Naples receding. All these lines and colors existed 2 <«3) 14 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. too at the time when Pompeii was destroyed : the island of Prochyta, the cities of Baise, of Bauli, of ISTeapolis, and of Surrentum bore the names that they retain. Portici was called Herculaneum; Torre dell' Annunzi- ata was called Oplontes ; Castellamare, Stabise ; Mise- num and Minerva designated the two extremities of the gulf. However, Vesuvius was not what it has become ; fertile and wooded almost to the summit, covered with orchards and vines, it must have resembled the pictur- esque heights of Monte San Angelo, toward which we are rolling. The summit alone, honeycombed with caverns and covered with black stones, betrayed to the learned a volcano " long extinct." It was to blaze out again, however, in a terrible eruption ; and, since then, it has constantly flamed and smoked, menacing the ruins it has made and the new cities that brave it, calmly reposing at its feet. What do you expect to find at Pompeii '£ At a dis- tance, its antiquity seems enormous, and the word "ruins" awakens colossal conceptions in the excited fancy of the traveller. But, be not self-deceived ; that is the first rule in knocking about over the world." Pompeii was a small city of only thirty thousand souls ; THE EXHUMED CITY. 15 something like what Geneva was thirty years ago. Like Geneva, too, it was marvellously situated — in the depth of a picturesque valley between mountains shut- ting in the horizon on one side, at a few steps from the sea and from a streamlet, once a river, which plunges into it — and by its charming site attracted personages of distinction, although it was peopled chiefly with merchants and others in easy circum- stances ; shrewd, prudent folk, and probably honest and clever enough, as well. The etymologists, after having exhausted, in their lexicons, all the words that chime in sound with Pompeii, have, at length, agreed in deriving the name from a Greek verb which si^ni- fies to send, to transport, and hence they conclude that many of the Pompeians were engaged in exporta- tion, or perhaps, were emigrants sent from a distance to form a colony. Yet these opinions are but conjec- tures, and it is useless to dwell on them. All that can be positively stated is that the city was the entrepot of the trade of JSfola, Nocera, and Atella. Its port was large enough to receive a naval armament, for it sheltered the fleet of P. Cornelius. This port, mentioned by certain authors, has led many to believe 16 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. that the sea washed the walls of Pompeii, and some guides have even thought they could discover the rings that once held the cables of the galleys. Unfortu- nately for this idea, at the place which the imagination of some of our contemporaries covered with salt water, there were one day discovered the vestiges of old structures, and it is now conceded that Pompeii, like many other seaside places, had its harbor at a distance. Our little city made no great noise in history. Taci- tus and Seneca speak of it as celebrated, but the Italians of all periods have been fond of superlatives. You will find some very old buildings in it, proclaim- ing an ancient origin, and Oscan inscriptions recalling the antique language of the country. When the Sam- nites invaded the whole of Campania, as though to deliver it over more easily to Rome, they probably occupied Pompeii, which figured in the second Sam- nite war, B. C. 310, and which, revolting along with the entire valley of the Sarno from ISTocera to Stabise, repulsed an incursion of the Romans and drove them back to their vessels. The third Samnite war was, as is well known, a bloody vengeance for this, and Pom- peii became Roman. Although the yoke of the con- THE EXHUMED CITY. 17 querors was not very heavy — the municipii retaining their Senate, their magistrates, their comitiœ or councils, and paying a tribute of men only in case of war — the Samnite populations, clinging frantically to the idea of a separate and independent existence, rose twice again in revolt; once just after the battle of Cannae, when they threw themselves into the arms of Hannibal, and then against Sylla, one hundred and twenty-four years later — facts that prove the tenacity of their resistance. On both occasions Pompeii was retaken, and the second time partly dismantled and occupied by a de- tachment of soldiers, who did not long remain there. And thus we have the whole history of this little city. The Romans were fond of living there, and Cicero had a residence in the place, to which he frequently refers in his letters. Augustus sent thither a colony which founded the suburb of Augustus Felix, administered by a mayor. The Emperor Claudius also had a villa at Pompeii, and there lost one of his children, who per- ished by a singular mishap. The imperial lad was amusing himself, as the Neapolitan boys do to this day, by throwing pears up into the air and catching them in his mouth as they fell. One of the fruits 2* 18 THE WONDEKS OF POMPEII. choked him by descending too far into his throat. But the Neapolitan youngsters perform the feat with figs, which render it infinitely less dangerous. We are, then, going to visit a small city subordinate to Rome, much less than Marseilles is to Paris, and a little more so than Geneva is to Berne. Pompeii had almost nothing to do with the Senate or the Emperor. The old tongue — the Oscan — had ceased to be offi- cial, and the authorities issued their orders in Latin. The residents of the place were Soman citizens, Pome being recognized as the capital and fatherland. The local legislation was made secondary to Poman legisla- lation. But, excepting these reservations, Pompeii formed a little world, apart, independent, and complete in itself. She had a miniature Senate, composed of decurions ; an aristocracy in epitome, represented by the Augustales, answering to knights ; and then came her plebs or common people. She chose her own pontiffs, convoked the comitise, promulged municipal laws, regulated military levies, collected taxes ; in fine selected her own immediate rulers — her consuls (the duumvirs dispensing justice), her édiles, her qucestors, etc. Hence, it is not a provincial city that we are to TUE EXHUMED CITY. 19 survey, but a petty State which had preserved its autonomy within the unity of the Empire, and was, as has been cleverly said, a miniature of Rome. Another circumstance imparts a peculiar interest to Pompeii. That city, which seemed to have no good luck, had been violently shaken by earthquake in the year B. C. 63. Several temples had toppled down along with the colonnade of the Forum, the great Basilica, and the theatres, without counting the tombs and houses. Nearly every family fled from the place, taking with them their furniture and their statuary ; and the Senate hesitated a long time before they al- lowed the city to be rebuilt and the deserted district to be re-peopled. The Pompeians at last returned; but the decurions wished to make the restoration of the place a complete rejuvenation. The columns of the Forum speedily reappeared, but with capitals in the fashion of the day; the Corinthian-Roman order, adopted almost everywhere, changed the style of the monuments ; the old shafts covered with stucco were patched up for the new topwork they were to receive, and the Oscan inscriptions disappeared. From all this there sprang great blunders in an artistic point of 20 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. view, but a uniformity and consistency that please those who are fond of monuments and cities of one continuous derivation. Taste loses, but harmony gains thereby, and you pass in review a collective totality- of edifices that bear their age upon their fronts, and give a very exact and vivid idea of what a municeps a Roman colony must have been in the time of Ves- pasian. They went to work, then, to rebuild the city, and the undertaking was pushed on quite vigorously, thanks to the contributions of the Pompeians, es- pecially of the functionaries. The temples of Jupiter and of Venus — we adopt the consecrated names — and those of Isis and of Fortune, were already up ; the theatres were rising again ; the handsome columns of the Forum were ranging themselves under their por- ticoes ; the residences were gay with brilliant paintings ; work and pleasure had both resumed their activity; life hurried to and fro through the streets, and crowds thronged the amphitheatre, when, all at once, burst forth the terrible eruption of 79. I will describe it further on; but here simply recall the fact that it buried Pompeii under a deluge of stones and ashes. THE EXHUMED CIT1. 21 Tins re-awakening of the volcano destroyed three cities, without counting the villages, and depopulated the country in the twinkling of an eye. After the catastrophe, however, the inhabitants re- turned, and made the first excavations in order to recover their valuables; and robbers, too — we shall surprise them in the very act — crept into the subter- ranean city. It is a fact that the Emperor Titus for a moment entertained the idea of clearing and restor- ing it, and with that view sent two Senators to the spot, intrusted with the mission of making the first study of the ground; but it would appear that the magni- tude of the work appalled those dignitaries, and that the restoration in question never got beyond the con- dition of a mere project. Home soon had more serious cares to occupy her than the fate of a petty city that ere long disappeared beneath vineyards, orchards, and gardens, and under a thick growth of woodland — • remark this latter circumstance — until, at length, cen- turies accumulated, and with them the forgetfulness that buries all things. Pompeii was then, so to speak, lost, and the few learned men who knew it by name could not point out its site. When, at the close of the 22 TBE WONDEES OF POMPEII. sixteenth century, the architect Fontana was con- structing a subterranean canal to convey the waters of the Sarno to Torre dell' Annunziata, the conduit passed through Pompeii, from one end to the other, piercing the walls, following the old streets, and com- ing upon sub-structures and inscriptions ; but no one bethought him that they had discovered the place of the buried city. However, the amphitheatre, which, roofed in by a layer of the soil, formed a regular ex- cavation, indicated an ancient edifice, and the neigh- boring peasantry, with better information than the learned, designated by the half -Latin name of Civita, which dim tradition had handed down, the soil and debris that had accumulated above Pompeii. It was only in 1748, under the reign of Charles III, when the discovery of Ilerculaneum had attracted the attention of the world to the antiquities thus buried, that, some vine-dressers having struck upon some old walls with their picks and spades, and in so doing unearthed statues, a colonel of engineers named Don Rocco Alcubierra asked permission of the king to make excavations in the vicinity. The king consented and placed a dozen of galley-slaves at the colonel's THE EXHUMED CITY. 23 disposition. Thus it was that by a lucky chance a military engineer discovered the city that we are about to visit. Still, eight years more had to roll away before any one suspected that it was Pompeii which they were thus exhuming. Learned folks thought they were dealing with Stabise. Shall I relate the history of these underground re- searches, " badly conducted, frequently abandoned, and resumed in obedience to the same capriciousness that had led to their suspension," as they were ? Such are the words of the opinion Barthélémy expressed when writing, in 1755, to the Count de Caylus. Winkelmann, who was present at these excavations a few years later, sharply criticised the tardiness of the galley-slaves to whom the work had been confided. "At this rate," he wrote, "our descendants of the fourth generation will still have digging to do among these ruins." The illustrious German hardly suspected that he was mak- ing so accurate a prediction as it has turned out to be. The descendants of the fourth generation are our con- temporaries, and the third part of Pompeii is not yet unearthed. The Emperor Joseph II. visited the excavations on 24 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. the 6tli of April, 1796, and complained bitterly to King Ferdinand IY. of the slight degree of zeal and the small amount of money employed. The king promised to do better, but did not keep his word. He had neither intelligence nor activity in prosecuting this immense task, excepting while the French occu- pation lasted. At that time, however, the government carried out the idea of Francesco La Tega, a man of sense and capacity, and purchased all the ground that covered Pompeii. Queen Caroline, the sister of Bona- parte and wife of Murat, took a fancy to these excavations and pushed them vigorously, often going all the way from Naples through six leagues of dust to visit them. In 1813 there were exactly four hundred and seventy-six laborers employed at Pompeii. The Bourbons returned and commenced by re-selling the ground that had been purchased under Murat; then, little by little, the work continued, at first with some activity, then fell off and slackened more and more until, from being neglected, they were altogether aban- doned, and were resumed only once in a while in the presence of crowned heads. On these occasions they were got up like New Year's surprise games : every- THE EXHUMED CITY. 25 thing that happened to be at hand was scattered about on layers of ashes and of pumice-stone and care- fully covered over. Then, upon the arrival of such- and-such a majesty, or this or that highness, the magic wand of the superintendent or inspector of the works caused all these treasures to spring out of the ground. I could name, one after the other, the august person- ages who were deceived in this manner, beginning with the Kings of the Two Sicilies and of Jerusalem. But that is not all. Not only was nothing more discovered at Pompeii, but even the monuments that had been found were not preserved. King Ferdinand soon discovered that the 25,000 francs applied to the excavations were badly employed; he reduced the sum to 10,000, and that amount was worn down on the way by passing through so many hands. Pompeii fell back, gradually presenting nothing but ruins upon ruins. Happily, the Italian Government established by the revolution of 18G0, came into power to set all these acts of negligence and roguery to rights. Sig- nor Fiorelli, who is all intelligence and activity, not to mention his erudition, which numerous writings prove, was appointed inspector of the excavations. 3 26 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. Under his administration, the works which had been vigorously resumed were pushed on by as many as seven hundred laborers at a time, and they dug out in the lapse of three years more treasures than had been brought to light in the thirty that preceded them. Everything has been reformed, nay, moralized, as it were, in the dead city; the visitor pays two francs at the gate and no longer has to contend with the horde of guides, doorkeepers, rapscallions, and beggars who formerly plundered him. A small mu- seum, recently established, furnishes the active in- quirer the opportunity of examining upon the spot the curiosities that have already been discovered; a library containing the fine works of Mazois, of Raoul Pochette, of Gell, of Zahn, of Overbeck, of Breton, etc., on Pompeii, enables the student to consult them in Pompeii itself ; workshops lately opened are continually busy in restoring cracked walls, marbles, and bronzes, and one may there surprise the artist Bramante, the most ingenious hand at repairing an- tiquities in the world, as likewise my friend, Padig- lione, who, with admirable patience and minute fidel- ity, is cutting a small model in cork of the ruins that TUE EXIIUMED CITY. 27 have been cleared, wliicli is scrupulously exact. In fine — and this is the main point — the excavations are no longer carried on occasionally only, and in the presence of a few privileged persons, but before the first comer and every day, unless funds have run short. "I have frequently been present," wrote a half- Pompeian, a year or two ago, in the llevue des Deux Mondes — "I have frequently been present for hours together, seated on a sand-bank which itself, perhaps, concealed wonders, and witnessed this rude yet inter- esting toil, from which I could not withdraw my gaze. I therefore have it in my power to write understandingly. I do not relate what I read, but what I saw. Three systems, to my knowledge, have been employed in these excavations. The first, in- augurated under Charles III., was the simplest. It consisted in hollowing out the soil, in extricating the precious objects found, and then in re-filling the orifice — an excellent method of forming a mu- seum by destroying Pompeii. This method was aban- doned so soon as it was discovered that a whole city was involved. The second system, which was gradu- 28 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. ally brought to perfection in the last century, was earnestly pursued under Murat. The work was started in many places at once, and the laborers, advancing one after the other, penetrating and cut- ting the hill, followed the line of the streets, which they cleared little by little before them. In fol- lowing the streets on the ground-level, the decliv- ity of ashes and pumice-stone which obstructed them was attacked below, and thence resulted many re- grettable accidents. The whole upper part of the houses, commencing with the roofs, fell in among the rubbish, along with a thousand fragile articles, which were broken and lost without there being any means of determining the point from which f hey had been hurled down. In order to obviate •Ins inconvenience, Signor Fiorelli has started a Jiird system. He does not follow the streets by the ground-level, but he marks them out over the hillocks, and thus traces among the trees and cul- tivated grounds wide squares indicating the sub- terranean islets. No one is ignorant of the fact :hat these islets — isole, insulœ in the modern as well as in the ancient language of Italy — indicate blocks THE EXHUMED CITY. 29 of buildings. The islet traced, Signor Fiorelli re- purchases the land which had been sold by King Ferdinand I. and gives up the trees found upon it." "The ground, then, being bought and the vegeta- tion removed, work begins. The earth at the sum- mit of the hill is taken off and carried away on a railroad, which descends from the middle of Pom- peii by a slope that saves all expense of machi- nery and fuel, to a considerable distance beyond the amphitheatre and the city. In this way, the most serious question of all, to wit, that of clearing away the dirt, is solved. Formerly, the ruins were covered in with it, and subsequently it was heaped up in a huge hillock, but now it helps to construct the very railroad that carries it away, and will, one day, tip it into the sea. " Nothing can present a livelier scene than the ex- cavation of these ruins. Men diligently dig away at the earth, and bevies of young girls run to and fro without cessation, with baskets in their hands. These * The money accruing- from this sale is applied to the Pompeian library mentioned elsewhere. 3* 30 THE WONDEKS OF POMPEII. are sprightly peasant damsels collected from the adja- cent villages most of them accustomed to working in factories that have closed or curtailed operations owing to the invasion of English tissues and the rise of cotton. No one would have dreamed that free trade and the war in America would have supplied female hands to work at the ruins of Pompeii. But all things are linked together now in this great world of ours, vast as it is. These girls then run backward and forward, filling their baskets with soil, ashes, and lapillo, hoisting them on their heads, by the help of the men, with a single quick, sharp motion, and thereupon setting off again, in groups that incessantly replace each other, toward the railway, passing and re- passing their returning companions. Very picturesque in their ragged gowns of brilliant colors, they walk swiftly with lengthy strides, their long skirts defining the movements of their naked limbs and fluttering in the wind behind them, while their arms, with ges- tures like those of classic urn-bearers, sustain the heavy load that rests upon their heads without making them even stoop. All this is not out of keeping with the monuments that gradually appear above the surface as il n;i'É lÀMf- «Iff '" THE EXHUMED CITY. 31 the rubbish is removed. Did not the sight of foreign visitors here and there disturb the harmony of the scene, one might readily ask himself, in the midst of this Yirgilian landscape, amid these festooning vines, in full view of the smoking Vesuvius, and beneath that antique sky, whether all those young girls who come and go are not the slaves of Pansa, the sedile, or of the duumvir Holconius." We have just glanced over the history of Pompeii before and after its destruction. Let us now enter the city. But a word of caution before we start. Do not expect to find houses or monuments still erect and roofed in like the Pantheon at Pome and the square building at Nismes, or you will be sadly disappointed. Pather picture to yourself a small city of low build- ings and narrow streets that had been completely burned down in a single ni<>;ht. You have come to look at it on the day after the conflagration. The upper stories have disappeared, and the ceilings have fallen in. Everything that was of wood, planks, and beams, is in ashes ; all is uncovered, and no roofs arc to be seen. In these structures, which in other days were either private dwellings or public edifices, you 32 THE WONDEKS OF POMPEII. now can everywhere walk under the open sky. Were a shower to come on, you would not know where to seek shelter. It is as though you were in a city in progress of building, with only the first stories as yet completed, but without the flooring for the second. Here is a house : nothing remains of it but the lower walls, with nothing resting on them. At a distance you would suppose it to be a collection of screens set up for parlor theatricals. Here is a public square: you will now see in it only bottom platforms, supports that hold up nothing, shafts of columns without gal- leries, pedestals without statues, mute blocks of stone, Space and emptiness. I will lead you into more than one temple. You will see there only an eminence of masonry, side and end walls, but no front, no portico. Where is art ? Where is the presiding deity of the place ? The ruins of your stable would not be more naked a thousand years hence. Stones on all sides, tufa, bricks, lava, here and there some slabs of marble and travertine, then traces of destruction — paintings defaced, pavements disjointed and full of gaps and cracks — and then marks of spoliation, for all the precious objects found were carried off to the museum Clearing out a Narrow Street in Pompeii. , THE EXHUMED CITY. 33 at Naples, and I can show you now nothing but the places where once stood the Faun, the statue of Nar- cissus, the mosaic of Arbelles and the famous blue vase. Such is the Pompeii that awaits the traveller who comes thither expecting to find another Paris, or, at least, ruins arranged in the Parisian style, like the tower of St. Jacques, for instance. You will say, perhaps, good reader, that I dis- enchant you ; on the contrary, I prevent your dis- enchantment. Do not prepare the way for your own disappointment by unreasonable expectations or by ill-founded notions ; this is all that I ask of your judgment. Do not come hither to look for the relics of Eoman grandeur. Other impressions await you at Pompeii. "What you are about to see is an entire city, or at all events the third of an ancient city, remote, detached from every modern town, and forming in itself something isolated and complete which you will find nowhere else. Here is no Capitol rebuilt ; no Pan- theon consecrated now to the God of Christianity ; no Acropolis surmounting a Danish or Bavarian city; no Maison Carrée (as at Nismes) transformed to a gallery of paintings and forming one of the adornments of a 34 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. modern Boulevard. At Pompeii everything is antique and eighteen centuries old; first the sky, then the landscape, the seashore, and then the work of man, devastated undoubtedly, but not transformed, by time. The streets are not repaired ; the high sidewalks that border them have not been lowered for the pedestrians of our time, and we promenade upon the same stones that were formerly trodden by the feet of Sericus the merchant and Epaphras the slave. As we enter these narrow streets we quit, perforce, the year in which we are living and the quarter that we inhabit. Behold us in a moment transported to another age and into another world. Antiquity invades and absorbs us and, were it but for an hour, we are Bomans. That, however, is not all. I have already repeatedly said that Vesuvius did not destroy Pompeii — it has preserved it. The structures that have been exhumed crumble away in the air in a few months — more than they had done beneath the ashes in eighteen centuries. "When first disinterred the painted walls reappear fresh and glowing as though their coloring were but of yester- day. Each wall thus becomes, as it were, a page of THE EXHUMED CITY. 35 illustrated archeology, unveiling to us some point hitherto unknown of the manners, customs, private habits, creeds and traditions ; or, to sum all up in a word, of the life of the ancients. The furniture one finds, the objects of art or the household utensils, reveal to us the mansion ; there is not a single panel which, when closely examined, does not tell us something. Such and such a pillar has retained the inscription scratched upon it with the point of his knife by a Pompeian who had nothing else to do ; such a piece of wall on the street set apart for posters, presents in huge letters the announcement of a public spectacle, or proclaims the candidature of some citizen for a contested office of the state. I say nothing of the skeletons, w r hose attitudes relate, in a most striking manner, the horrors of the catas- trophe and the frantic struggles of the l^t moment. In fine, for any one who has the faculty of observation, every step is a surprise, a discovery, a confession won concerning the public and private life of the ancients. Although at first sight mute, these blocks of stone, when interrogated, soon speak and confide their secrets to science or to the imagination that catches a meaning 36 THE WONDEES OF POMPEII. with half a word ; they tell, little by little, all that they know, and all the strange, mysterious things that took place on these same pavements, tinder this same sky, in those miraculous times, the most interesting in history, viz. : the eighth century of Rome and the first of the Christian era. II. THE FOKUM. Diomed's Inn. — The Niche of Minerva. — The Appearance and The Monuments of the Forum. — The Antique Temple. — The Pagan ex-Voto Offerings. — The Merchants' City Exchange and the Petty Exchange. — The Pantheon, or was it a Temple, a Slaughter-house, or a Tavern? — The Style of Cook- ing and the Form of Religion. — The Temple of Venus. — The Basilica. — The Inscriptions of Passers-by upon the Walls. — The Forum Rebuilt. As you alight at the station, in the first place break- fast at the jpopina of Diomed. It is a tavern of our own day, which has assumed an antique title to please trav- ellers. You may there drink Falernian wine manufac- tured by S cala, the Neapolitan chemist, and, should you ask for some jentaculum in the Roman style — aliquid scitamentorum, glandionidum suillam taridicm, per- nonidem, sinciput ant omenta jporcina, aut aliquid ad eum modum — they will serve you a beefsteak and po- tatoes. Your strength refreshed, you w r ill scale the sloping hillock of ashes and rubbish that conceals the ruins from your view ; you w T ill pay your two francs at the office and you will pass the gate-keeper's turn- * (37) 38 THE WONDEKS OF POMPEII. stile, astonished, as it is, to find itself in sucli a place. These formalities once concluded you have nothing more that is modern to go through unless it be the companionship of a guide in military uniform who es- corts you, in reality to watch you (especially if you be- long to the country of Lord Elgin), but not to mulct you in the least. Placards in all the known languages for- bid you to offer him so much as an obolus. You make your entrée, in a word, into the antique life, and you are as free as a Pompeian. The first thing one sees is an arcade and such a niche as might serve for an image of the Madonna ; but be reassured, for the niche contains a Minerva. It is no longer the superstition of our own time that strikes our gaze. Under the arcade open extensive store-houses that probably served as a place of deposit for mer- chandise. Tou then enter an ascending paved street, pass by the temple of Tenus and the Basilica, and ar- rive at the Forum. There, one should pause. At first glance, the observer distinguishes nothing but a long square space closed at the further extremity by a regular-shaped mound rising between two arcades ; lateral alleys extend lengthwise on the right and the left I THE FOKUM. 39 between shafts of columns and dilapidated architec- tural work. Here and there some compound masses of stone-work indicate altars or the pedestals of statues no longer seen. Vesuvius, still threatening, smokes away at the extremity of the picture. Look more closely and you will perceive that the fluted columns are of Caserta stone, of tufa, or of brick, coated with stucco and raised two steps above the level of the square. Under the lower step runs the kennel. These columns sustained a gallery upon w^hich one mounted by narrow and abrupt steps that time has spared/ This upper gallery must have been covered. The women walked in it. A second story of columns, most likely interrupted in front of the monuments, rested upon the other one. Mazois has reconstructed this colonnade in two superior orders — Doric below and Ionic above — with exquisite elegance. The pavement of the square, on which you may still walk, was of travertine. Thus we see the Forum rising again, as it were, in our presence. Let us glance at the ruins that surround it. That mound at the other end was the foundation of a temple, the diminutive size of which strikes the new- 4:0 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. comer at first sight. Every one is not aware that the temple, far from being a place of assemblage for de- vout multitudes, was, with the ancients, in reality, but a larger niche inclosing the statue of the deity to be worshipped. The consecrated building received only a small number of the elect after they had been befit- tingly purified, and the crowd remained outside. It was not the palace, but the mere cell of the god. This cell (cello) was, at first, the whole temple, and was just large enough to hold the statue and the altar. By degrees it came to be ornamented with a front portico, then with a rear portico, and then with side colon- nades, thus attaining by embellishment after embel- lishment the rich elegance of the Madeleine at Paris. But the proportions of our cathedrals were never adopted by the ancients. Thus, Christianity rarely appropriates the Greek or Roman temples for its worship. It has preferred the vast basilicas, the royal name of which assumes a religious meaning. The Romans built their temples in this wise : The augur — that is to say, the priest who read the future in the flight of birds — traced in the sky with his short staff a spacious square, which he then marked on the THE FOEUM. 41 soil. Stakes were at once fixed along the four lines, and draperies were hung between the stakes. In the midst of this space, the area or inclosure of the temple, the augur marked out a cross — the augural cross, indicating the four cardinal points; the trans- verse lines fixed the limits of the cella; the point where the two branches met was the place for the door, and the first stone was deposited on the threshold. Numerous lighted lamps illuminated these ceremo- nies, after which the chief priest, the jpontifex max- imuSj consecrated the* area, and from that moment it became settled and immovable. If it crumbled, it must be rebuilt on the same spot, and the least change made, even should it be to enlarge it, would be regarded as a profanation. Thus had the dwell- ing of the god that rises before us at the extremity of the Forum been consecrated. Like most of the Roman temples, this edifice is elevated on a foundation (the podium), and turned toward the north. One ascends to it by a flight of steps that cuts in the centre a platform where, perhaps, the altar stood. Upon the 2 )0( ^' lum there remain some vestiges of the twelve columns that 42 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. formed the front portico or jpronaos. Twelve col- umns, did I say? — three on each side, six in front; always an even number at the facades, so that a central column may not mask the doorway and that the temple may be freely entered by the intercol- umnar middle space. To the right and the left of the steps were pedes- tals that formerly sustained statues probably colos- sal. Behind the pronaos could be recognized the place where the cella used to be. Nothing remains of it now but the mosaic pavement and the walls. Traces of columns enable us to reconstruct this sanc- tuary richly. We can there raise — and it has been done on paper — two colonnades — the first one of the Ionic order, supporting a gallery ; the second of the Corinthian order, sustaining the light wooden plat- form of painted wood which no longer exists. The walls, covered with stucco, still retain pretty decor- ative paintings. Three small subterranean chambers, of very solid construction, perhaps contained the treasury and archives of the State, or something else entirely different — why not those of the temple? THE FORUM. 43 In those times the Church was rich ; the Saviour had not ordained poverty as its portion. What deity's house is it that we are visiting now ? Jupiter's, says common opinion, upon the strength of a colossal statue of which fragments have been found that might well have fitted the King of the Gods. Others think it the temple of Yenus, the Venus Physica (the beautiful in nature, say aesthe- tic philosophers) being the patroness of Pompeii. We shall frequently, hereafter, meet with the name of this goddess. Several detached limbs in stone and in bronze, which are not broken at the extremity as though they belonged to a statue, but are polished on all sides and cut in such a manner as to admit of being suspended, were found among the ruins ; they were votive offerings. Italy, in becoming Cath- olic, has retained these Pagan customs. Besides her supreme God, she worships a host of demi-gods, to whom she dedicates her towns and consecrates her temples, where garlands of ex-voto offerings tes- tify to the intercession of the priests and the grati- tude of the true believers. On the two sides of the temple of Jupiter — such 44: THE WONDEKS OF POMPEII. is the generally-accepted name — rise arcades, as I have already remarked. The one on the left is a vaulted entrance, which, being too low and standing too far forward, does not correspond with the other and deranges, one cannot exactly make out why, the symmetry of this part of the Forum. The other arcade is evidently a triumphal portal. Nothing re- mains of it now but the body of the work in brick, some niches and traces of pilasters; but it is easy to replace the marbles and the statues which must have adorned this monument in rather poor taste. Such was the extremity of the Forum. Four considerable edifices follow each other on, the eastern side of this public square. These are, going from south to north, the palace of Euma- chia, the temple of Mercury, the Senate Chamber, and the Pantheon. What is the Eumachia palace? An inscription found at that place reads: "Eumachia, in her name and in the name of her son, has erected to Concord and to august Piety, a Chalcidicum, a crypt and por- ticoes." What is a Chalcidicum? Long and grave have THE FOKUM. ±5 been the discussions on this subject among the savans. They have agreed, however, on one point, that it should be a species of structure invented at Chalcis, a city of Eubea. However that may be, this much-despoiled palace presents a vast open gallery, which was, certainly, the portico mentioned above. Around the portico ran a closed gallery along three sides, and that must have been the crypt. Upon the fourth side — that is to say, before the entry that fronts the Forum — stood forth a sort of porch, a large exterior vestibule : that was probably the Chalcidicum. The edifice is curious. Behind the vestibule are two walls, not parallel, one of which follows the alignment of the Forum, and the other that of the interior portico. The space between this double wall is utilized and some shops hide themselves in its recesses. Thus the irregularity of the plan is not merely corrected — it is turned to useful account. The ancients were shrewd fellows. This portico rested on fifty-eight columns, surrounding a court- yard. In the court-yard, a large movable stone, in good preservation, with the ring that served to lift 46 THE WONDEES OF POMPEII. it, covered a cistern. At the extremity of the por- tico, in a hémicycle, stood a headless statue — perhaps the Piety or Concord to which the entire edifice was dedicated. Behind the hémicycle a sort of square niche buried itself in the wall between two doors, one of which, painted on the wall for the sake of symmetry, is a useful and curious document. It is separated into three long and narrow panels and is provided with a ring that should have served to move it. Doors are nowhere to be seen now in Pompeii, because they were of wood, and conse- quently were consumed by the fire; hence, this painted representation has filled the savants with delight ; they now know that the ancients shut themselves in at home by processes exactly like our own. Between the two doors, in the square niche, the statue of Eumachia, or, at least, a moulded model of that statue, is still erect upon its pedestal. It is of a female of tall stature, who looks sad and ill. An inscription informs us that the statue was erected in her honor by the fullers. These artisans formed quite a respectable corporation at Pompeii, and we THE FOKUM. 47 shall presently visit the manufactory where they worked. Everything is now explained : the edifice of Eumachia must have been the Palace of Indus- try of that city and period. This is the Pompeian Merchants 5 Exchange, where transactions took place in the portico, and in winter, in the crypt. The tri- bunal of commerce sat in the hémicycle, at the foot of the statue of Concord, raised there to appease quarrels between the merchants. In the court-yard, the huge blocks of stone still standing were the tables on which their goods were spread. The cis- tern and the large vats yielded the conveniences to wash them. In fine, the Chalcidicum was the smal- ler Exchange, and the niches still seen there must have been the stands of the auctioneers. But what was there in common between this market, this ful- lers' counter, and the melancholy priestess ? Religion at that period entered into everything, even into trade and industry. A secret door put the edifice of Eumachia in communication with the adja- cent temple. That temple, which was dedicated to Mercury — why to Mercury ? — or to Quirinus — why not to Mercury ? — at this day forms a small museum of 48 THE WONDEKS OF POMPEII. precious relics. The entrance to it is closed with a grating through which a sufficient view may be had of the bas-relief on the altar, representing a sacrifice. A personage whose head is half-veiled presides at the ceremony ; behind that person a child carries the consecrated water in a vase, and the victimariics, bearing an axe, leads the bull that is to be offered up. Behind the sacrificial party are some flute-players. On the two sides of the altar other bas-reliefs repre- sent the instruments that were used at the sacrifices ; the Mtuus, or curved staff of the augur; the acerra, or perfuming censer ; the mantile, or consecrated cloth that — let us simply say, the napkin, — and, finally, the vases peculiar to these ceremonies, the patere, the simjmlum, and the jprefericuliim. That altar is the only curiosity in the temple. The remainder is not worth the trouble of being studied or reconstructed. The mural paintings form an adornment of questionable taste. A rear door puts the temple in communication with the Senaculum, or Senate-house, as the neighboring structure was called ; but the Pompeian Senators being no more than de- curions, it is an ambitious title. A vestibule that THE FORUM. 49 conies forward as far as the colonnade of the Forum ; then a spacious saloon or hall ; an arch at the end, with a broad foundation where the seats of the decem- viri possibly stood ; then, w^alls built of rough stones arranged in net-work (opus reticulatum), some niches without statues — such is all that remains. But with a ceiling of wood painted in bright colors (the walls could not have held up a vaulted roof), and com- pletely paved, completely sheathed with marble, as some flags and other remnants indicate, this hall could not have been without some richness of effect. Those w T ho sat there were but the magistrates of a small city ; but behind them loomed up Home, whose vast shadow embraced and magnified everything. At length we have before us the Pantheon, the strangest and the least easy to name of the edifices of Pompeii. It is not parallel to the Forum, but its obliquity was adroitly masked by shops in which many pieces of coin have been found. Hence the conclu- sion that these were tabernœ argentariœ, the money- changers' offices, and I cannot prove the contrary. The two entrance doors are separated by two Co- rinthian columns, between which is hollowed out a 50 THE WOKDEKS Otf POMPEII. niche without a statue. The capitals of these columns bear Csesarean eagles. Could this Pantheon have been the temple of Augustus? Having passed the doors, one reaches an area, in which extended, to the right and to the left, a spacious portico surrounding a court, in the midst of which remain twelve pedestals that, ranged in circular order, once, perhaps, sustained the pillars of a circular temple or the statues of twelve gods. This, then, was the Pantheon. However, at the extremity of the edifice, and directly opposite to the entrance, three apartments open. The middle one formed a chapel ; three statues were found there repre- senting Drusus and Livia, the wife of Augustus, along with an arm holding a globe, and belonging, no doubt, to the consecrated statue which must have stood upon the pedestal at the end, a statue of the Emperor. Then this was the temple of Augustus. The apartment to the left shows a niche and an altar, and served, per- haps, for sacrifices; the room to the right offers a stone bench arranged in the shape of a horse-shoe. It could not be one of those triple beds {triclinia) which we shall find in the eating saloons of the private houses ; for the slope of these benches would have forced the THE FORUM. 51 reclining guests to have their heads turned toward the wall or their feet higher than their heads. Moreover, in the interior of this bench runs a conduit evidently intended to afford passage to cer- tain liquids, perhaps to the blood of animals slaugh- tered in the place. This, therefore, was neither a Pantheon nor a temple of Augustus, but a slaughter- house (macellum.) In that case, the eleven apart- ments abutting to the right on the long wall of the edifice would be the stalls. But these rooms, in which the regular orifices made in the wall were to hold the beams that sustained the second story, were adorned with paintings which still exist, and which must have been quite luxurious for those poor oxen. Let us interrogate these paintings and those of all these w T alls ; they will instruct us, perhaps, with refer- ence to the destination of the building. There are mythological and epic pieces reproducing certain sacred subjects, of which we shall speak further on. Others show us winged infants, little Cupids weaving garlands, of which the ancients were so fond ; some of the bacchanalian divinities, celebrating the festival of the mills, are crowning with flowers the patient ass 52 THE WONDEKS OF POMPEII. who is turning the wheel. Flowers on all sides — that was the fantasy of antique times. Flowers at their wild banquets, at their august ceremonies, at their sacrifices, and at their festivals; flowers on the necks of their victims and their guests, and on the brows of their women and their gods. But the greatest number of these paintings appear destined for banquetting-halls ; dead nature predominates in them ; you see nothing but pullets, geese, ducks, part- ridges, fowls, and game of all kinds, fruits, and eggs, amphorae, loaves of bread and cakes, hams, and I know not what all else. In the shops attached to this palace belong all sorts of precious articles — vases, lamps, statuettes, jewels, a handsome alabaster cup ; besides, there have been found five hundred and fifty small bottles, without counting the goblets, and, in vases of glass, raisins, figs, chestnuts, lentils, and near them scales and bakers' and pastry-cooks' moulds. Could the Pantheon, then, have been a tavern, a free inn (hospitium) where strangers were received under the protection of the gods % In that case the supposed butcher-shop must have been a sort of office, and the triclinium a dormitory. However that may be, the THE FORUM. 53 table and the altar, the kitchen and religion, elbow each other in this strange palace. Our austerity re- volts and our frivolity is amused at the circumstance ; but Catholics of the south are not at all surprised at it. Their mode of worship has retained something of the antique gaiety. For the common people of Naples, Christmas is a festival of eels, Easter a revel of casatelli; they eat z&ppole to honor Saint Joseph ; and the greatest proof of affliction that can be given to the dying Saviour is not to eat meat. Beneath the sky of Italy dogmas may change, but the religion will always be the same — sensual and vivid, impassioned and prone to excess, essentially and eternally Pagan, above all adoring woman, Venus or Mary, and the hamlino, that mystic Cupid whom the poets called the first love. Catholicism and Paganism, theories and mysteries ; if there be two religions, they are that of the south and that of the north. You have just explored the whole eastern part of the Forum. Pass now in front of the temple of Jupi- ter and reach the western part. In descending from north to south, the first monument that strikes your attention is a rather long portico, turned on the east 54 THE WONDEKS OF POMPEII. toward the Forum. Different observers have fancied that they discovered in it ^jpoecile, a museum, a divan, a club, a granary for corn ; and all these opinions are equally good. Behind the poecile open small chambers, of which some are vaulted. Skeletons were found in them, and the inference was that they were prisons. Lower down extends along the Forum the lateral wall of the temple of Yenus. In this wall is hollowed a small square niche in which there rose, at about a yard in height from the soil, a sort of table of tufa, indented with regular cavities, which are ranged in the order of their capacity; these were the public measures. An inscription gives us the names of the duumvirs who had gauged them by order of the decurions. As M. Breton has well remarked, they were the standards of measurement. Of these five cavities, the two smallest were destined for liquids, and we still see the holes through which those liquids flowed off when they had been measured. The table of tufa has been taken to the museum, and in its place has been substituted a rough imitation, which gives a sufficient idea of this curious monument. THE FOKUM. 55 The temple of Yenus is entered from the neighbor- ing street which we have already traversed. The ruin is a fine one — the finest, perhaps, in Pompeii ; a spa- cious inclosure, or peribolus, framing a portico of forty-eight columns, of which many are still standing, and the portico itself surrounding the podium, where rose the temple — properly speaking, the house of the goddess. In front of the entrance, at the foot of the steps that ascend to the podium, rises the altar, poorly calculated for living sacrifices and seemingly destined for simple offerings of fruit, cakes, and incense, which were consecrated to Yenus. Besides the form of the altar, an inscription found there and a statue of the goddess, whose modest attitude recalls the masterpiece of Florence, sufficiently authorize the name, in the ab- sence of more exact information, that has been given to this edifice. Others, however, have attributed it to the worship of Bacchus ; others again to that of Diana, and the question has not yet been settled by the sa- vans ; but Yenus being the patroness of Pompeii, deserved the handsomest temple in the little city. The columns of the peribolns or inclosure bear the traces of some bungling repairs made between the 56 THE WONDERS OP POMPEn. earthquake of 63 and the eruption of 79. They were Doric, but the attempt was to render them Corinthian, and, to this end, they were covered with stucco and topped with capitals that are not becoming to them. Against one of these columns still leans a statue in the form of a Hermes. Around the court is cut a small kennel to carry off the rain water, which was then caught in reservoirs. The wall along the Forum was gaily decorated with handsome paintings; one of these, probably on wood, was burned in the eruption, and the vacant place where it belonged is visible. Be- hind the temple open rooms formerly intended for the priests; handsome paintings were found there, also — among them a Bacchus, resting his elbow on the shoul- der of old Silenus, who is playing the lyre. Absorbed in this music, he forgets the wine in his goblet, and lets it fall out upon a panther crouching at his feet. We now have only to visit the temple itself, the house of the goddess. The steps that scaled the base- ment story were thirteen — an odd number — so that in ascending the first step with the right foot, the level of the sanctuary was also reached with the right foot. The temple was jperipterous y that is to say, entirely THE FOKUM. 57 surrounded with open columns with Corinthian capi- tals. The portico opened broadly, and a mosaic of marbles, pleasingly adjusted, formed the pavement of the cella, of which the painted w T alls represented sim- ple panels, separated here and there by plain pilas- ters. Our Lady of Pompeii dwelt there. The last monument of the Forum on the south- west side is the Basilica ; and the street by which we have entered separates it from the temple of Venus. The construction of the edifice leaves no doubt as to its destination, which is, moreover, confirmed by the word Basilica or Basilaca, scratched here and there by loungers with the points of their knives, on the wall. Basilica — derived from a Greek w^ord which signifies Jdng — might be translated with suffi- cient exactness by royal court. At .Rome, these edifices were originally mere covered market-places sheltered from the rain and the sun. At a later period, colonnades divided them in three, sometimes even into five naves, and the simple niche which, intended for the judges' bench, was hollowed out at the foot of its monuments, finally developed into a vaulted semicircle. At last, the early Christiana 58 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. finding themselves crowded in the old temples, chose the high courts of justice to therein celebrate the worship of the new God, and the Roman Basilica imposed its architecture and its proportions upon the Catholic Cathedral. In the semicircle, then, where once the ancient magistracy held its justice seat, arose the high altar and the consecrated image of the crucified Saviour. The Basilica of Pompeii presents to the Forum six pillars, between which five portals slid along grooves which are still visible. A vestibule, or sort of chalcidicum extends between these five entrances and five others, indicated by two columns and four pillars. The vestibule once crossed, the edifice ap- pears in its truly Roman grandeur; at first glance the eye reconstructs the broad brick columns, regu- larly truncated in shape (they might be considered unfinished), which are still erect on their bases and which, crowned with Ionic volutes, were to form a monumental portico along the four sides of this majestic area paved with marble. Half columns fixed in the lateral walls supported the gallery ; they joined each other in the angles ; the middle space THE FORUM. 59 must have been uncovered. Fragments of statues and even of mounted figures proclaim the magnifi- cence of this monument, at the extremity of which there rose, at the height of some six feet above the soil, a tribune adorned with half a dozen Corin- thian columns and probably destined for the use of the duumvirs. The middle columns stood more widely apart in order that the magistrates might, from their seats, command a view of the entire Bas- ilica. Under this tribune was concealed a myste- rious cellar with barred windows. Some antiquaries affirm that there was the place where prisoners were tortured. They forget that in Home, in the antique time, cases were adjudged publicly before the free people. Some of the walls of the Basilica were covered with graphites, that is to say, with inscriptions scratched with the point of a nail or of a knife by loungers on the way. I do not here copy the thousand and one insignificant inscriptions which I find in my ram- bles. They would teach us nothing but the names of the Pompeian magistrates who had constructed or reconstructed this or that monument or such-and- 60 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. sucli a portion of an edifice with, the public money. But the graphites of the Basilica merit a moment's attention. Sometimes, these are verses of Ovid or of Yirgil or Properties (never of Horace, singular to say), and frequently with curious variations. Thus, for example : t ' Quid pote durum Saxso aut quid mollius unda ? Dura taraen molli Saxsa cavantur aqua." {Ovid.) Notice the s in the saxo and the quid jpote instead of quid magis; it is a Greeldsm. Elsewhere were written these two lines : 6 ' Quisquis amator erit Scytkiae licet ambulet oris : Nemo adeo ut feriat barbarus esse volet." Propertius had put this distich in an elegy in which he narrated a nocturnal promenade between Borne and Tibur. Observe the word Scythiœ instead of Sycthicis, and especially, feriat, which is the true reading, — the printed texts say noceat. Thus an ex- cellent correction has been preserved for us by Vesu- vius. THE FORUM. 61 Here are other lines, the origin of which is un- known : 1 ' Scribenti mi dictât Amor, monstrat que Cupido Ah peream, sine te si Deus esse yelim ! " How many modern poets have uttered the same exclamation ! They little dreamed that a Pompeian, a slave no doubt, had, eighteen centuries before their time, scratched it with a nail upon the wall of a bas- ilica. Here is a sentence that mentions gold. It has been carried out by the English poet, Wordsworth : " Minimum malum fit contemnendo maximum, Quod, crede mi, non contemnendo, erit minus." Let us copy also this singular truth thrown into rhyme by some gourmand who had counted without his host : " Quoi pcrna cocta est, si convivœ adponitur, Non gustat pernam, lingit ollam aut caccabum." This quoi is for cui ; the caccabus was the kettle in which the fowl was cooked. 62 THE WONDEKS OF POMPEII. Here follows some wholesome advice for the health of lovers : " Quisquis amat calidis non debet fontibus uti : Nam nemo flammis ustus amare potest." I should never get through were I to quote them all. But how many short phrases there are that, scratched here and there, cause this old monument to spring up again, by revealing the thoughts and fancies of the loungers and passers-by who peopled it so many years ago. A lover had written this : " Nemo est bellus nisi qui amavit." A friend : "Vale, Messala, fac me ames." A superlative wag, but incorrect withal : " Cosmns nequitiae est magnussimae." A learned man, or a philosopher : " Non est exsilium ex patria sapientibus." A complaining suitor : 1 ' Sara non belle f acis. Solum me relinquis, Debilis .... THE FORUM. 63 A wrangler and disputant threatening the other party with a law-suit : "Somius Gorneilio (Cornelio) yaB pendre (perendie ?) " A sceptic who cherishes no illusions as to the mode of administering justice : " Quod pretium legi ? " A censor, perhaps a Christian, who knew the words addressed by the Jews to the blind man who was cured : " Pyrrhus Getae conlegae salutern. Moleste fero quod audivi te mortuom (sic). Itaque vale." A jovial wine bibber : " Suavis vinari sitit, rogo vas valde sitit."* A wit: "Zetema mulier ferebat filium simulera sui nee meus erat, nee mi simulât; sed vellein esset meus, et ego volebam ut meus esset." Tennis-players scribble : "Amianthus, Epaphra, Tcrtius ludant cum Hedysio, Iiicun- dus Kolanus petat, numeret Citus et Stacus Amianthus." * For sitiat. 64 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. Wordsworth remarks that these two names, Tertius and Epaphras, are found in the epistles of St. Paul. Epaphras (in Latin, Epaphra ; the suppressed letter s shows that this Pompeian was merely a slave) is very often named on the walls of the little city ; he is ac- cused, moreover, of being beardless or destitute of hair (jEpaphra glaber est), and of knowing nothing about ten- nis. (Epajphra pilier ejpxis non es). This inscription was found all scratched over, probably by the hand of Epa- phras himself, who had his own feelings of pride as a fine player. Thus it is that the stones of Pompeii are full of reve- lations with reference to its people. The Basilica is easy to reconstruct and provide with living occupants. Yonder duumviri, up between the Corinthian columns ; in front of them the accused ; here the crowd ; lovers confiding their secrets to the wall ; thinkers scribbling their maxims on them ; wags getting off their witti- cisms in the same style ; the slaves, in fine, the poor, an- nouncing to the most remote posterity that they had, at least, the game of tennis to console them for their abject condition ! Still three small apartments the ex- tremity of which rounded off into semicircles (prob- THE FORUM. 65 ably inferior tribunes where subordinate magistrates, such as commissioners or justices of the peace, had their seats) ; then the school of Yerna, cruelly dilapi- dated ; finally a small triumphal arch on which there stood, perhaps, a quadriga, or four-yoked chariot-team ; some pedestals of statues erected to illustrious Pom- peians, to Pansa, to Sallust, to Marcus Lucretius, Decidamius Ruf us ; some inscriptions in honor of this one or that one, of the great Romulus, of the aged iEneas, — when all these have been seen, or glanced at, at least, you will have made the tour of the Forum. You now know what the public exchange was in a Roman city ; a spacious court surrounded by the most important monuments (three temples, the bourse, the tribunals, the prisons, etc.), inclosed on all sides (traces of the barred gates are still discernible at the en- trances), adorned with statues, triumphal arches, and colonnades; a centre of business and pleasure ; a place for sauntering and keeping appointments ; the Corso, the Boulevard of ancient times, or in other words, the heart of the city. "Without any great effort of the imagina- tion, all this scene revives again and becomes filled with a living, variegated throng, — the portico and its 6* 66 THE WONDEKS OF POMPEII. two stories of columns along the edge of the recon- structed monuments ; women crowd the upper galle- ries ; loiterers drag their feet along the pavement ; the long robes gather in harmonious folds; busy merchants hurry to the Chalcidicum; the statues look proudly down from their re-peopled pedestals; the noble lan- guage of the Romans resounds on all sides in scanned, sonorous measure; and the temple of Jupiter, seated at the end of the vista, as on a throne, and richly adorned with Corinthian elegance, glitters in all its splendor in the broad sunshine. An air of pomp and grandeur — a breath of Rome — has swept over this collection of public edifices. Let us descend from these heights and walk about through the little city. III. THE STKEET. The Plan of Pompeii. —The Princely Names of the Houses. — Appearance of the Streets, Pavements, Sidewalks, etc. — The Shops and the Signs. — The Perfumer, the Surgeon, etc. — An ancient Manufactory. — Bathing Establishments. — Wine-shops, Disreputable Resorts. — Hanging Balco- nies, Fountains. — Public Placards : Let us Nominate Battur ! Commit no Nuisance ! — Religion on the Street. Yotj have no need of me for this excursion. Cast a glance at the plan, and you will be able to find your own way. You will there see an oval inclosure, a wall pierced with several entrances designated by the names of the roads which ran from them, or rather of the cities at which these roads terminated — Hercula- neum, Nola, Stabise, etc. Two-thirds of the egg are •still immaculate; you discover a black spot only on the extreme right, marking out the Amphitheatre. All this white space show r s you the part of Pompeii that has not yet been designated. It is a hillside covered with vineyards, gardens, and orchards. It is only on the left that you will find the lines marking the 68 THE WONDEES OF POMPEII. streets, the houses, the monuments, and the public squares. The text gives us the fancied names at- tributed to the streets, namely : the Street of Abun- dance, the Street of Twelve Gods, the Street of Mercury, the Street of Fortune, the Street of For- tunata, Modest Street, etc. The names given to the houses are still more arbitrary. Most of them were christened, under the old system, by the august or illustrious personages before whom they were dug out for the first time. Thus, we have at Pompeii the house of Francis II., that of Championnet, that of Joseph II. ; those of the Queen of England, the King of Prussia, the Grand Duke of Tuscany; that of the Emperor, and those of the Empress and of the Princes of Russia ; that of Goethe, of the Duchess de Berry, of the Duke d'Aumale — I skip them by scores. The whole Gotha Almanac might there be passed in review. This determined, ramble through the streets at will, without troubling yourself about their names, as these change often at the caprice of antiquaries and their guides. The narrowness of these streets will surprise you ; and if you come hither to look for a Broadway, you THE STREET. 69 had better have remained at home. What we call great arteries of traffic were unknown to the Pom- peians, who cut only small paved paths between their houses — for the sake of health, they said. We en- tertain different views of this question of salubrity. The greatest width of a Pompeian street is seven yards, and there are some which are comprised, side- walks and all, within a space of two yards and a half. These sidewalks are raised, very narrow, and paved very variously, according to the wealth or the fancy of the proprietors, who had to keep them in good order. Here are handsome stone flags ; further on merely the soil beaten down ; in front of the next house are marble slabs, and here and there patches of opus signinum, a sort of rudimentary mosaic, to which we shall refer further on. These sidewalks were intersected with curbstones, often pierced with holes — in front of shops, for instance — perhaps for tethering the cows and donkeys of the peasants who every morning brought the citizens milk or baskets of vegetables to their own doors. Between the side- walks was hollowed out the street, paved with coarse blocks of lava which time has not worn down. When 70 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. Pansa went to the dwelling of Paratus his sandals trod the same stones that now receive the impress of our boots. On rainy days this street must have been the bed of a torrent, as the alleys and by-ways of Naples are still ; hence, one, sometimes three, thicker blocks were placed so as to enable foot passengers to cross with dry feet. These small fording blocks must have made it difficult for vehicles to get by ; hence, the ruts that are still found traceable on the pavement are the marks of wagons drawn slowly by oxen, and not of those light chariots which romance-writers launch forth so briskly in the ancient city. Moreover, it has been ascertained that the Pompeians went afoot ; only the quality had themselves drawn about in chariots in the country. Where could room have been found for stables and carriage-houses in those dwellings scarcely larger than your hat ? It was in the suburbs only, in the outskirts of the city, that the dimensions of the residences rendered anything of the kind possible. Let us, then, obliterate these chariots from our imagination, if we wish to see the streets of Pompeii as they really were. THE STREET. 71 After a shower, the rain water descended, little by little, into the gutters, and from the latter, by holes still visible, into a subterranean conduit that carried it outside of the city. One of these conduits is still open in the Street of Stabile, not far from the temple of Isis. As to the general aspect of these ancient thorough- fares, it would seem dull enough, were we to re- present the scene to our fancy with the houses closed, the windows gone, the dwellings with merely a naked wall for a front, and receiving air and light only from the two courts. But it was not so, as everything goes to prove. In the first place, the shops looked out on the street and were, indeed almost entirely open, like our own, offering to the gaze of the passers-by a broad counter, leaving only a small space free to the left or the right to let the vendors pass in and out. In these counters, which were usually covered with a marble slab, were hollowed the cavities w T herein the grocers and liquor-dealers kept their eatables and drinkables. Behind the counters and along the walls were stone shelves, upon which the stock was put away. Fes- 72 THE WONDEKS OF POMPEII. toons of edibles hung displayed from pillar to pillar; stuffs, probably, adorned the fronts, and the custom- ers, who made their purchases from the sidewalk, must have everywhere formed noisy and very ani- mated groups. The native of the south gesticulates a great deal, likes to chaffer, discusses with vehe- mence, and speaks loudly and quickly with a glib tongue and a sonorous voice. Just take a look at him in the lower quarters of Naples, which, in more than one point of view, recall the narrow streets of Pompeii. These shops are now dismantled. Nothing of them remains but the empty counters, and here and there the grooves in which the doors slid to and fro. These doors themselves were but a number of shut- ters fitting into each other. But the paintings or carvings which still exist upon some side pillars are old signs that inform us what was sold on the adjoining counter. Thus, a goat in terra cotta in- dicated a milk-depot; a mill turned by an ass showed where there was a miller's establishment; two men, walking one ahead of the other and each carrying one end of a stick, to the middle of which THE STREET. 73 an amphora is suspended, betray the neighborhood of a wine-merchant. Upon other pillars are marked other articles not so readily understood, — here an anchor, there a ship, and in another place a checker- board. Did they understand the game of Palame- des at Pompeii % A shop near the Thermae, or pub- lic warm baths, is adorned on its front with a rep- resentation of a gladiatorial combat. The author of the painting thought something of his work; which he protected w T ith this inscription: "Abiat (habeat) Venerem Pomjoeianam iradam {iratam) qui hoc lœserit! (May he who injures this picture have the wrath of the Pompeian Tenus upon him ! ) " Other shops have had their story written by the articles that they contained when they were found. Thus, when there w^ere discovered in a suite of rooms opening on the Street of Plerculaneum, cer- tain levers one of which ended in the foot of a pig, along with hammers, pincers, iron rings, a wagon- spring, the felloe of a wheel, one could say with- out being too bold that there had been the shop of a wagon-maker or blacksmith. The forge occu- pied only one apartment, behind which opened a 7 74 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. bath-room and a store-room. Not far from there a pottery is indicated by a very curious oven, the vault of which is formed of hollow tubes of baked clay, inserted one within the other. Elsewhere was discovered the shop of the barber who washed, brushed, shaved, clipped, combed and perfumed the Pompeians living near the Forum. The benches of masonry are still seen where the customers sat. As for the dealers in soap, unguents, and essences, they must have been numerous; their products supplied not only the toilet of the ladies, but the religious or funeral ceremonies, and after having perfumed the living, they embalmed the dead. Besides the shops in which the excavators have come suddenly upon a stock of fatty and pasty substances, which, perhaps, were soaps, we might mention one, on the pillar of which three paintings, now effaced, repre- sented a sacrificial attendant leading a bull to the altar, four men bearing an enormous chest around which were suspended several vases; then a body washed and anointed for embalming. Do you under- stand this mournful-looking sign? The unguent THE STREET. 75 dealer, as he was called, thus made tip the body and publicly placarded it. From the perfumery man to the chemist is but a step. The shop of the latter tradesman was found — so it is believed, at all events in clearing out a triple furnace with walled boilers. Two pharmacies or drug-stores, one in the Street of Herculaneum, the other fronting the Chalcidicum, have been more exactly designated not only by a sign on which there was seen a serpent (one of the symbols of ^Escula- pius) eating a pineapple, but by tablets, pills, jars, and vials containing dried-up liquids, and a bronze med- icine chest divided into compartments which must have contained drugs. A groove for the spatula had been ingeniously constructed in this curious little piece of furniture. Not far from the apothecary lived the doctor, who was an apothecary himself and a surgeon besides, and it was in his place that were discovered the celebrated instruments of surgery which are at the museum, and which have raised such stormy debates between Dr. Purgon and Dr. Pancratius. The first, being a doctor, deemed himself competent to give 76 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. an account of these instruments, whereat the second, being an antiquary, became greatly irritated, seeing that the faculty, in his opinion, has nothing to do with archaeology. However that may be, the arti- cles are at the museum, and everybody can look at them. There is a forceps, to pull teeth with, as some affirm; to catch and compress arteries, as others de- clare ; there is a specillum of bronze, a probe rounded in the form of an S ; there are lancets, pincers, spat- ulse, hooks, a trident, needles of all kinds, incision knives, cauteries, cupping-glasses — I don't know what not — fully three hundred different articles, at all events. This rich collection proves that the ancients were quite skilful in surgery and had invented many instruments thought to be modern. This is all that it is worth our while to know. For more ample information, examine the volume entitled Mé- moires de V Académie d' ) Ilermlanewn. Other shops (that of the color merchant, that of the goldsmith, the sculptor's atelier, etc.) have re- vealed to us some of the processes of the ancient artists. We know, for instance, that those of Pom- peii employed mineral substances almost exclusively THE STREET. 77 in the preparation of their colors ; among them chalk, ochre, cinnabar, minium, etc. The vegetable kingdom furnished them nothing but lamp-black, and the animal kingdom their purple. The colors mixed with rosin have occasioned the belief that encaustic was the process used by the ancients in their mural paintings, an opinion keenly combatted by other hypotheses, themselves no less open to dis- cussion ; into this debate it is not our part to enter. However the case may be, the color dealer's family was fearfully decimated by the eruption, for four- teen skeletons w^ere found in his shop. As for the sculptor, he was very busy at the time of the catastrophe ; quite a number of statues were found in his place blocked out or unfinished, and with them were instruments of his profession, such as scissors, punchers, files, etc. All of these are at the museum in Naples. There were artists, then, in Pompeii, but above all, there were artisans. The fullers so often men- tioned by the inscriptions must have been the most numerous ; they formed a respectable corporation. Their factory has been discovered. It is a peri- 78 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. style surrounded with rooms, some of which served for shops and others for dwellings. A painted in- scription on the street side announces that the dyers (offectores) vote for Posthumus Proculus. These offectores were those who retinted woollen goods. Those who did the first dyeing were called the in- fectores. Infectores qui alienum colorem in lanam conflciunt, offectores qui prqprio colori novum offi- ciunt. In the workshop there were four large ba- sins, one above the other ; the water descended from the first to the next one and so on down to the last, there being a fifth sunken in the ground. Along the four basins ran a platform, at the end of which were ranged six or seven smaller basins, or vats, in which the stuffs were piled up and fulled. At the other extremity of the court, a small mar- ble reservoir served, probably, as a washing vat for the workmen. But the most curious objects among the ruins were the paintings, now transferred to the museum at Naples, which adorned one of the pil- lars of the court. There a workman could be very distinctly seen dressing, with a sort of brush or card, a piece of white stuff edged with red, while another THE STKEET. 79 is coming toward him, bearing on his head one of those large osier cages or frames on which the girls of that region still spread their clothes to dry. These cages resemble the bell-shaped steel contrivances w r hich our ladies pass under their skirts. Thus, in the Neapolitan dialect, both articles are called dry- ing-horses (asciutta-panni). Upon the drying-horse of the Pompeian picture perches the bird of Mi- nerva, the protectress of the fullers and the god- dess of labor. To the left of the workmen, a young girl is handing some stuffs to a youthful, richly- dressed lady, probably a customer, seated near by. Another painting represents workmen dressing and fulling all sorts of tissues, with their hands and feet in tubs or vats exactly like the small basins which we saw in the court. A third painting shows the mistress of the house giving orders to her slaves ; and the fourth represents a fulling press which might be deemed modern, so greatly does it resemble those still employed in our day. The importance of this edifice, now so stripped and dilapidated, confirms what writers have told us of the Pompeian fullers and their once-celebrated branch of trade. 80 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. However, most of the shops the use of which has not been precisely designated, were places where provisions of different kinds were kept and sold. The oil mer- chant in the street leading to the Odeon was especially noticeable among them all for the beauty of his coun- ter, which was covered with a slab of cipollino and gray marble, encrusted, on the outside, with a round slab of porphyry between two rosettes. Eight earthenware vases still containing olives* and coagulated oil were found in the establishment of this stylish grocer. The bathing concerns were also very numerous. They were the coffee-houses of the ancient day. Hot drinks were sold there, boiled and perfumed wine, and all sorts of mixtures, which must have been detestable, but for which the ancients seem to have had a special fancy. " A thousand and a thousand times more respectable than the wine-shops of our day, these bathing-houses of ages gone by, where men did not * These olives which, when found, were still soft and pasty, had a rancid smell and a greasy "but pungent flavor. The kernels were less elongated and more bulging than those of the Neapolitan olives; were very hard and still contained some shreds of their pith. In a word, they were perfectly preserved, and although eighteen centuries old, as they were, you would have thought they had been plucked but a few months before. THE STREET. 81 assemble to shamefully squander their means and their existence while gorging themselves with wine, but where they came together to amuse themselves in a decent manner, and to drink warm water without risk." .... Le Sage, who wrote the foregoing sen- tence, was not accurately informed. The liquors sold at the Pompeian bathing-houses were very strong, and, in more than one place where the points of the ampho- rae rested, they have left yellow marks on the pave- ment. Yinegar has been detected in most of these drinks. In the tavern of Fortunata, the marble of the counter is still stained with the traces of the ancient goblets. Bakeries were not lacking in Pompeii. The most complete one is in the Street of Herculaneum, where it fills a whole house, the inner court of which is occu- pied with four mills. Nothing could be more crude and elementary than those mills. Imagine two huge blocks of stone representing two cones, of which the upper one is overset upon the other, giving every mill the appearance of an hour-glass. The lower stone remained motionless, and the other revolved by means of an apparatus kept in motion by a man or a donkey. 82 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. The grain was crushed between the two stones in the old patriarchal style. The poor ass condemned to do this work must have been a very patient animal ; but what shall we say of the slaves often called in to fill his place ? For those poor wretches it was usually a punishment, as their eyes were put out and then they were sent to the mill. This was the menace held over their heads when they misbehaved. For others it was a very simple piece of service which more than one man of mind performed — Plautus, they say, and Terence. To some again, it was, at a later period, a method of paying for their vices ; when the millers lacked hands they established bathing-houses around their mills, and the passers-by who were caught in the trap had to work the machinery. Let us hasten to add that the work of the mill which we visited was not performed by a Christian, as they would say at Naples, but by a mule, whose bones were found in a neighboring room, most likely a stable, the racks and troughs of which were elevated about two and a half feet above the floor. In a closet near by, the watering trough is still visible. Then again, religion, which everywhere entered into the ancient manners THE STREET. 83 and customs of Italy, as it does into the new, reveals itself in the paintings of the jpistrinum ; we there see the sacrifices to Fornax, the patroness of ovens and the saint of kitchens. But let ns return to our mills. Mills driven by the wind were unknown to the ancients, and water-mills did not exist in Pompeii, owing to the lack of running water. Hence these mills put in motion by manual labor — the old system employed away back in the days of Homer. On the other hand, the institution of com- plete baking as a trade, with all its dependent processes, did not date so far back. The primitive Romans made their bread in their own houses. Rome was already nearly five hundred years old when the first bakers established stationary mills, to which the proprietors sent their grain, as they still do in the Neapolitan prov- inces ; in return they got loaves of bread ; that is to say, their material ground, kneaded, and baked. The Pompeian establishment that we visited was one of these complete bakeries. We could still recognize the troughs that served for the manipulation of the bread, and the oven, the arch of which is intact, with the cavity that retained 84 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. the ashes, the vase for water to besprinkle the crust and make it shiny, and, finally, the triple-flued pipe that carried off the smoke — an excellent system revealed by the Pompeian excavations and successfully imi- tated since then. The bake-oven opened upon two small rooms by two apertures. The loaves went in at one of these in dough, and came out at the other, baked. The whole thing is in such a perfect state of preserva- tion that one might be tempted to employ these old bricks, that have not been used for eighteen centuries, for the same purpose. The very loaves have survived. In the bakery of which I speak several were found with the stamps upon them, siligo grani (wheat flour), or e cicera (of bean flour) — a wise precaution against the bad faith of the dealers. Still more recently, in the latest excavations, Signor Fiorelli came across an oven so hermetically sealed that there was not a par- ticle of ashes in it, and there were eighty-one loaves, a little sad, to be sure, but whole, hard, and black, found in the order in which they had been placed on the 23d of November, 79. Enchanted with this windfall, Fiorelli himself climbed into the oven and took out the precious relics with his own hands. THE STREET. 85 Most of the loaves weigh about a pound ; the heaviest twelve hundred and four grains. They are round, depressed in the centre, raised on the edges, and divided into eight lobes. Loaves are still made in Sicily exactly like them. Professor de Luca weighed and analyzed them minutely, and gave the result in a letter addressed to the French Academy of Sciences. Let us now imagine all these salesrooms, all these shops, open and stocked with goods, and then the dis- play, the purchasers, the passers-by, the bustle and noise peculiar to the south, and the street will no longer seem so dead. Let us add that the doors of the houses were closed only in the evening ; the promenaders and loungers could then peep, as they went along, into every alley, and make merry at the bright adorn- ments of the atrium. Nor is this all. The upper stories, although now crumbled to dust, were in communication with the street. "Windows opened discreetly, which must, here and there, have been the framework of some brown head and countenance anxious to see and to be seen. The latest excava- tions have revealed the existence of hanging covered balconies, long exterior corridors, pierced with case- 8 86 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. ments, frequently depicted in the paintings. There the fair Pompeian could have taken her station in order to participate in the life outside. The good housewife of those times, like her counterpart in our day, could there have held out her basket to the street- merchant who went wandering about with his portable shop ; and more than one handsome girl may at the same post have carried her fingers to her lips, there to cull (the ancient custom) the kiss that she flung to the young Pompeian concealed down yonder in the corner of the wall. Thus re-peopled, the old- time street, narrow as it is, was gayer than our own thoroughf ares ; and the brightly-painted houses, the variegated walls, the monuments, and the fountains, gave vivid animation to a picture too dazzling for our gaze. These fountains, which were very simple, consisted of large square basins formed of five stone slabs, one for the bottom and four for the sides, fastened to- gether with iron braces. The water fell into them from fonts more or less ornamental and usually repre- senting the muzzle of some animal — lions' heads, masks, an eagle holding a hare in his beak, with THE STREET. 87 the stream flowing into a receptacle from the hare's mouth. One of these fountains is surrounded with an iron railing to prevent passers-by from falling into it. Another is flanked by a capacious vaulted reservoir {castellum) and closed with a door. Those who have seen Rome know how important the ancients con- sidered the water that they brought from a distance by means of the enormous aqueducts, the ruins of which still mark all the old territories of the empire. Water, abundant and limpid, ran everywhere, and was never deficient in the Roman cities. Stilly it has not been discovered how the supply was obtained for Pompeii, destitute of springs as that city w T as, and, at the same time, elevated above the river, and re- ceiving nothing in its cisterns but the rain-water so scantily shed beneath the relentless serenity of that southern sky. The numberless conduits found, of lead, masonry, and earthenware, and above all, the spouting fountains that leaped and sparkled in the courtyards of the wealthy houses, have led us to suppose the existence of an aqueduct, no longer visible, that supplied all this part of Campania with water. 88 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. Besides these fountains, placards and posters enli- vened the streets ; the walls were covered with them, and, in sundry places, whitewashed patches of masonry served for the announcements so lavishly made public. These panels, dedicated entirely to the poster business, were called albums. Anybody and everybody had the right to paint thereon in delicate and slender red letters all the advertisements which now-a-days we print on the last, and even on many other pages of our newspapers. Nothing is more curious than these inscriptions, which disclose to us all the subjects enga- ging the attention of the little city; not only its excite- ments, but its language, ancient and modern, collegiate and common — the Oscan, the Greek, the Latin, and the local dialect. "Were we learned, or anxious to appear so, we could, with the works of the really erudite (Fiorelli, Garrucci, Mommsen, etc.), to help us, have compiled a chapter of absolutely appalling science in reference to the epigraphic monuments of Pompeii We could demonstrate by what gradations the Oscan language — that of the Pompeian autonomy — yielded little by little to the Poman language, which was that of the unity of the state ; and to what extent Pompeii. THE STKEET. 89 which never was a Greek city, employed the sacred idiom of the divine Plato. "We might even add some observations relative to the accent and the dialect of the Pompeians, who pronounced Latin as the Neapoli- tans pronounce Tuscan and with singularly analogous alterations. But what you are looking for here, hur- ried reader, is not erudition, but living movement. Choose then, in these inscriptions, those that teach us something relative to the manners and customs of this dead people — dead and buried, but afterward ex- humed. The most of these announcements are but the proc- lamations of candidates for office. Pompeii was evi- dently swallowed up at the period of the elections. Sometimes it is an elector, sometimes a group of citi- zens, then again a corporation of artisans or tradesmen, who are recommending for the office of sedile or duumvir the candidate whom they prefer. Thus, Paratus nominates Pansa, Philippus prefers Caius Aprasius Felix ; Yalentinus, with his pupils, chooses Sabinus and Pufus. Sometimes the elector is in a hurry; he asks to have his candidate elected quickly. "The fruiterers, the public porters, the muleteers, the 90 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. salt-makers, the carpenters, the truckmen, also unite to push forward the sedile who has their confidence. Fre- quently, in order to give more weight to its vote, the cor- poration declares itself unanimous. Thus, all the gold- smiths preferred a certain Photinus — a fishmonger, thinks Overbeck — for sedile. Let us not forget the sleepers, who declare for Vatia. By the way, who were these friends of sleep? Perhaps they were citizens who disliked noise ; perhaps, too, some association of nocturnal revellers thus disguised under an ironical and reassuring title. Sometimes the candidate is rec- ommended by a eulogistic epithet indicated by seals, a style of abbreviation much in use among the an- cients. The person recommended is always a good man, a man of probity, an excellent citizen, a very moral individual. Sometimes positive wonders are promised on his behalf. Thus, after having designated Julius Polybius for the sedileship, an elector an- nounces that he will bring in good bread. Electoral intrigue went still further. We are pretty well on in that respect, but I think that the ancients were our masters. I read the following bare-faced avowal on a wall : Sabinum œdilem, Procule, fao et ille te THE STREET. 91 faciei. (Make Sabiims sedile, O Proeulus, and he may make thee such ! ) Frank and cool that, it strikes me! But enough of elections; there is no lack of an- nouncements of another character. Some of these give us the programme of the shows in the amphithea- tre; such-and-such a troop of gladiators will fight on such a day ; there will be hunting matches and awn- ings, as well as sprinklings of perfumed waters to re- fresh the multitude (venatio, vela, sparsiones). Thirty couples of gladiators will ensanguine the arena. There were, likewise, posters announcing apartments to let. Some of these inscriptions, either scratched or painted, were witticisms or exclamations from face- tious passers-by. One ran thus: "Oppius the porter is a robber, a rogue!" Sometimes there were amorous declarations : " Augea loves Arabienus." Upon a wall in the Street of Mercury, an ivy leaf, forming a heart, contained the gentle name of Psyche. Else- where a wag, parodying the style of monumental inscriptions, had announced that under the consulate of L. Monius Asprenas and A. Plotius, there was born to 92 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. him the foal of an ass. "A wine jar has been lost and he who brings it back shall have such a reward from Yarius ; but he who will bring the thief shall have twice as much." Again, still other inscriptions were notifications to the public in reference to the cleanliness of the streets, and recalling in terms still more precise the "Commit no Nuisance" put up on the corners of some of our streets with similar intent. On more than one wall at Pompeii the figures of serpents, very well painted, sufficed to prevent any impropriety, for the serpent was a sacred symbol in ancient Eome — strange mingling of religion in the pettiest details of common life! Only a very few years ago, the Neapolitans still followed the example of their an- cestors; they protected the outside walls of their dwellings with symbolical paintings, rudely tracing, not serpents, but crosses on them. IV. THE SUBUEBS. The Custom House.— The Fortifications and the Gates.— The Roman High- ways. — The Cemetery of Pompeii.— Funerals : the Procession, the Fu- neral Pyre, the Day of the Dead. — The Tombs and their Inscrip- tions. — Perpetual Leases. — Burial of the Rich, of Animals, and of the Poor. — The Villas of Diomed and Cicero. "Ce qu'on trouve aux abords d'une grande cite, Ce sont des abattoirs, des murs, des cimitieres ; C'est ainsi qu'en entrant dans la société On trouve ses egouts." Alfked de Musset would have depicted the sub- urban quarters of Pompeii exactly in these lines, had he added to his enumeration the wine-shops and the custom-house. The latter establishment was not omitted by the ancients, and could not be forgotten in our diminutive but highly commercial city. Thus, the place has been discovered where the collector awaited the passage of the vehicles that came in from the country and the neighboring villages. Ab- i Bolutely nothing else remains to be seen in this spa- cious mosaic-paved hall. Scales, steelyards, and a 94 THE WONDEKS OF POMPEII. quantity of stone or metal weights were found there, marked with inscriptions sometimes quite curious ; such, for example, as the following : JEme et hàbbébis, with a b too many, a redundancy very frequent in the Naples dialect. This is equivalent, in English, to : Buy and you will have. One of the sets of scales bears an inscription stating that it had been verified or authorized at the Capitol under such con- suls and such emperors — the hand of Home ! Besides the custom-house, this approach to the city contained abundance of stables, coach-houses, taverns, bath-houses, low drinking-shops, and other disrepu- table concerns. Even the dwellings in the same quarter have a suspicious look. You follow a long street and you have before you the gate of Ilercu- laneum and the walls. These walls are visible ; they still hold firm. Un- questionably, they could not resist our modern can- non, for if the ancients built better than we do, we destroy better than they did ; this is oile thing that must in justice be conceded to us. Neverthe- less, we cannot but admire those masses of jpeperino, the points of which ascend obliquely and hold to- THE SUBURBS. 95 gether without mortar. Originally as ancient as the city, these ramparts were destroyed to some extent by Sylla and repaired in opus incertum, that is to say, in small stones of every shape and of various dimensions, fitted to one another without order or regularity in the layers, as though they had been put in just as they came. The old structure dated probably from the time of Pompeian autonomy — the Oscans had a hand in them. The surrounding wall, at the foot of which there were no ditches,. would have formed an oval line of nearly two miles had it not been interrupted, on the side of the moun- tains and the sea, between the ports of Stabiœ and of Herculaneum. These ramparts consisted of two walls — the scarp and counterscarp, — between which ran a terraced platform ; the exterior wall, slightly sloping, was defended by embrasures between which the archer could place himself in safety, in an angle of the stonework, so soon as he had shot his arrow. The interior Avail was also crested witli battlements. The curvilinear rampart did not present projecting angles, the salients of which, Vitruvius tells us, could not resist the repeated blows of the siege machinery 96 THE WONDEKS OF POMPEII. of those days. It was intersected by nine towers, of three vaulted stories each, at unequal distances, accordingly as the nature of the ground demanded greater or less means of defence, was pierced with loop- holes and was not very solid. Vitruvius would have had them rounded and of cut stone; those of Pompeii are of quarried stone, and in small rough ashlars, stuck together with mortar. The third story of each tower reached to the platform of the rampart, with which it communicated by two doors. Notwithstanding all that remains of them, the walls of Pompeii were no longer of service at the time of the eruption. Demolished by Sylla and then by Augustus, shattered by the earthquake, and inter- rupted as 1 have said, they left the city open. They must have served for a public promenade, like the bastions of Geneva. Eight gates opened around the city (perhaps there was a ninth that has now disappeared, opening out upon the sea). The most singular of all of them is the Nola gate, the construction of which appears to be very ancient. We there come across those fine cut stones that reveal the handiwork of primitive Illllllllllllll THE SUBURBS. 97 times. A head consideraly broken and defaced, sur- mounting the arcade, was accompanied with an Oscan inscription, which, having been badly read by a Bavant, led for an instant to the belief that the Cam- panians of the sixth century before Jesus Christ worshipped the Egyptian Isis. The learned inter- preter had read : Isis jprojplieta (I translate it into Latin, supposing you to know as little as I do of the Oscan tongue). The inscription really ran, idem jprobavit. It is worth while passing through the gate to get a look at the angle formed by the ramparts at this one point. I doubt whether the city was ever at- tacked on that side. Before reaching the gate the assailants would have had to wind along through a narrow gallery, where the archers, posted on the walls and armed with arrows and stones, would have crushed them all. The Herculaneum gate is less ancient, and yet more devastated by time than the former one. The arcade has fallen in, and it requires some attention to rein- state it. This gate formed three entrances. The two side ways were probably intended for pedestrians ; 98 THE WONDEKS OF POMPEII. the one in the middle was closed by means of a port- cullis sliding in a groove, still visible, but covered with stucco. As the portcullis, in descending, would have thrown down this coating, we must infer that at the time of the eruption it had not been in use for a long while, Pompeii having ceased to be a fortified place. The Herculaneum gate was not masked inside, so that the archers, standing upon the terraces that cov- ered the side entrances, could fire upon the enemy even after the portcullis had been carried. We know that one of the stratagems of the besieged consisted in allowing the enemy to push in, and then suddenly shutting down upon them the formidable cataracta suspended by iron chains. They then slaughtered the poor wretches indiscriminately and covered them- selves with glory. Having passed the gate, we find ourselves on one of those fine paved roads which, starting at Home in all directions, have everywhere left very visible traces, and in many places still serve for traffic. The Greeks had gracefulness, the Romans grandeur. Nothing shows this more strikingly than their magnificent highways that pierce mountains, fill up ravines, level THE SUBURBS. 99 the plains, cross the marshes, bestride rivers, and even valleys, and stretched thns from the Tiber to the Euphrates. In order to construct them they first traced two parallel furrows, from between which they removed all the loose earth, which they replaced with selected materials, strongly packed, pressed, and pounded down. Upon this foundation (the jpavimen- tum) was placed a layer of rough stone (statumeri), then a filling-in of gravel and lime (the rudus), and, finally, a third bed of chalk, brick, lime, clay, and sand, kneaded and pounded in together into a solid crust. This was the nucleus. Last of all, they placed above it those large rough blocks of lava which you will find everywhere in the environs of Naples. As before remarked, these roads have served for twenty centuries, and they are good yet. The Ilerculaneum road formed a delightful prome- nade at the gates of Pompeii ; a street lined with trees and villas, like the Champs Elyseés at Paris, and. descending from the city to the country between two row r s of jaunty monuments prettily-adorned, niches, kiosks, and gay pavilions, from which the view was admirable. This promenade w T as the cemetery of 100 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. Pompeii. But let not this intimation trouble you, for nothing was less mournful in ancient times than a cemetery. The ancients were not fond of death; they even avoided pronouncing its name, and resorted to all sorts of subterfuges to avoid the doleful word. They spoke of the deceased as " those who had been," or " those who are gone." Yery demonstrative, at the first moment they would utter loud lamentations. Their sorrow thus vented its first paroxysms. But the first explosion over, there remained none of that cling- ing melancholy or serious impression that continues in our Christian countries. The natives of the south are epicureans in their religious belief, as in their habits of life. Their cemeteries were spacious avenues, and children played jackstones on the tombs. Would you like to hear a few details in reference to the interments of the ancients. " The usage was this," says Claude Guichard, a doctor at law, in his book concerning funereal rites, printed at Lyons, in 1581, by Jean de Tournes: "When the sick person w x as in extreme danger, his relatives came to see him, seated themselves on his bed, and kept him company until the death-rattle came on and his features began THE SUBURBS. 101 to assume the dying look. Then the nearest rela- tive among them, all in tears, approached the pa- tient and embraced him closely, breast against breast and face against face, so as to receive his soul, and month to mouth, catching his last breath ; which done, he pressed together the lips and eyes of the dead man, arranging them decently, so that the persons present might not see the eyes of the deceased open, for, according to their customs, it was not allowable to the living to see the eyes of the dead. . . . Then the room was opened on all sides, and they allowed all persons belonging to the family and neighbor- hood, to come in, who chose. Then, three or four of them began to bewail the deceased and call to him repeatedly, and, perceiving that he did not reply one word, they went out and told of the death. Then the near relatives went to the bedside to give the last kiss to the deceased, and handed him over to the chambermaids of the house, if he was a person of the lower class. If he was one of the eminent men and heads of families, he committed him to the care of people authorized to perform this office, to wash, anoint, and dress him, in accordance with the eus- 102 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. torn and what was requisite in view of the quality, greatness, and rank of the personage." Now there were at Rome several ministers, public servitors, and officials, who had charge of all that appertained to funerals, such as the UMtinarii, the designatores, and the like. All of which was wisely instituted by Numa Pompilius, as much to teach the Romans not to hold things relating to the dead in horror, or fly from them as contaminating to the person, as in order to fix in their memory that all that has had a beginning in birth must in like manner terminate in death, birth and death both being under the control and power of one and the same deity ; for they deemed that Libitina was the same as Venus, the goddess of procreation. Then, again, the said officers had under their orders different classes of serfs whom they called, in their lan- guage, the pollinotores, the sccndccpila? r ii y the us tores, the cadaverum custodes, intrusted with the care of anointing the dead, carrying them to the place of sepulture, burning them, and watching them. " After the pollinctores had carefully washed, anointed, and embalmed the body, according to the THE SUBURBS. 103 custom regarding it and the expense allowed, they wrapped it in a white linen cloth, after the manner of the Egyptians, and in this array placed it upon a bed handsomely prepared as though for the most distinguished member of the household, and then raised in front of the latter a small dresser shaped like an altar, upon which they placed the usual odors and incense, to burn along with tapers and lighted candles. . . . Then, if the deceased was a person of note, they kept the body thus arranged for the space of seven consecutive days, inside the house, and, during that time, the near relatives, dressed in certain long robes or very loose and roomy mantles called ricinia, along with the chambermaids and other women taken thither to weep, never ceased to la- ment and bewail, renewing their distress every time any notable personage entered the room ; and they thought that all this while the deceased remained on earth, that is to say, kept for a few days longer at the house, while they were hastening their prepara- tions for the pomp and magnificence of his funeral. On the eighth day, so as to assemble the relatives, associates, and friends of the defunct the more easily, 104 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. inform the public and call together all who wished to be present, the procession, which they called exequiœ, was cried aloud and proclaimed with the sound of the trumpet on all the squares and chief places of the city by the crier of the dead, in the following form : ' Such a citizen has departed from this life, and let all who wish to be present at his obsequies know that it is time ; he is now to be carried from his dwelling.' " Let us step aside now, for here comes a funeral procession. Who is the deceased ? Probably a con- sular personage, a duumvir, since lictors lead the line. Behind them come the flute-players, the mimes and mountebanks, the trumpeters, the tambourine-players, and the weepers (prœfiicœ), paid for uttering cries, tearing their hair, singing notes of lamentation, extolling the dead man, mimicking despair, " and teaching the chambermaids how to best express their grief, since the funeral must not pass without weeping and wailing." All this makes up a melancholy but burlesque din, which attracts the crowd and swells the procession, to the great honor of the defunct. After- ward come the magistrates, the decurions in mourn- THE SUBURBS. 105 ing robes, the bier ornamented with ivory. The duumvir Lucius Labeo (he is the person whom they are burying) is " laid out at full length, and dressed in white shrouds and rich coverings of purple, his head raised slightly and surrounded with a handsome coro- net, if he merit it." Among the slaves who carry the bier walks a man whose head is covered with white wool, "or with a cap, in sign of liberty." That is the freedman Menomachus, who lias grown rich, and who is conducting the mourning for his master. Then come unoccupied beds, "couches fitted up with the same draperies as that on which reposes the body of the defunct" (it is written that Sylla had six thou- sand of these at his funeral), then the long line of wax images of ancestors (thus the dead of old interred the newly dead), then the relatives, clad in mourning, the friends, citizens, and townsfolk generally in crowds. The throng is all the greater when the deceased is the more honored. Lastly, other trum- peters, and other pantomimists and tumblers, dancing, grimacing, gambolling, and mimicking the duumvir whom they are helping to bury, close the procession. This interminable multitude passes out into the Street of Tombs by the Ilerculaneum gate. 106 THE WONDEPwS OF POMPEII. The ustrinum, or room in which they are going to burn the body, is open. You are acquainted with this Roman custom. According to some, it was a means of hastening the extrication of the soul from the body and its liberation from the bonds of matter, or its fusion in the great totality of things ; according to others, it was but a measure in behalf of public health. However that may be, dead bodies might be either buried or burned, provided the deposit of the corpse or the ashes were made outside of the city. A part of the procession enters the tistrinum. Then they are going to burn the duumvir Lucius Labeo. The funeral pyre is made of firs, vine branches, and other wood that burns easily. The near relatives and the freedman take the bier and place it conveniently on the pile, and then the man who closes the eyes of the dead opens them again, making the defunct look up toward the sky, and gives him the last kiss. Then they cover the pile with perfumes and essences, and collect about it all the articles of furniture, garments, and precious objects that they want to burn. The trumpets sound, and the freedman, taking a torch and turning away his eyes, sets fire to the THE SUBURBS. 107 framework. Then commence the sacrifices to the manes, the formalities, the pantomimic action, the howlings of the mourners, the combats of the gladi- ators "in order to satisfy the ceremony closely ob- served by them which required that human blood should be shed before the lighted pile;" this was done so effectually that when there w T ere no gladiators the women "tore each other's hair, scratched their eyes and their cheeks with their nails, heartily, until the blood came, thinking in this manner to appease and propitiate the infernal deities, whom they sup- pose to be angered against the soul of the defunct, so as to treat it roughly, were this doleful ceremony omitted and disdained." . . . The body burned, the mother, wife, or other near relative of the dead, wrapped and clad in a black garment, got ready to gather up the relics — that is to say, the bones which remained and had not been totally consumed by the lire ; and, before doing anything, invoked the deity manes, and the soul of the dead man, beseeching him to take this devotion in good part, and not to think ill of this service. Then, after having washed her hands well, and having extinguished the lire in the brazier 108 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. with wine or with milk, she began to pick out the bones among the ashes and to gather them into her bosom or the folds of her robe. The children also gathered them, and so did the heirs; and we find that the priests who were present at the obsequies could help in this. But if it was some very great lord, the most eminent magistrates of the city, all in silk, ungirdled and barefooted, and their hands washed, as we have said, performed this office themselves. Then they put these relics in urns of earthenware, or glass, or stone, or metal ; they besprinkled them with oil or other liquid extracts ; they threw into the urn, sometimes, a piece of coin, which sundry antiquaries have thought was the obolus of Charon, forgetting that the body, being burned, no longer had a hand to hold it out; and, finally, the urn was placed in a niche or on a bench arranged in the interior of the tomb. On the ninth day, the family came back to banquet near the defunct, and thrice bade him adieu : Vale! Vale! Vale! then adding, " May the earth rest lightly on thee ! " Hereupon, the next care was the monument. That of the duumvir Labeo, which is very ugly, in THE SUBURBS. 100 opus incertum, covered with stucco and adorned with bas-reliefs and portraits of doubtful taste, was built at the expense of his freedman, Menomachus. The ceremony completed and vanity satisfied, the dead was forgotten ; there was no more thought, excepting for the fcrales and lemurales, celebrations now re- tained by the Catholics, who still make a trip to the cemetery on the Day of the Dead. The Street of the Tombs, saddened for a moment, resumed its look of unconcern and gaiety, and children once more played about among the sepulchres. There are monuments of all kinds in this suburban avenue of Pompeii. Many of them are simple pillars in the form of Hermes-heads. There is one in quite good preservation that was closed with a marble door; the interior, pierced with one window, still had in a niche an alabaster vase containing some bones. Another, upon a plat of ground donated by the city, was erected by a priestess of Ceres to lier husband, IT. Alleius Luceius Sibella, aedile, duumvir, and five years' prefect, and to lier son, a decurion of Pompeii, deceased at the age of seventeen. A decu- rion at seventeen! — there was a youth who made his 10 110 THE WOKDEKS OF POMPEII. way rapidly, Cicero said that it was easier to be a Senator at Home than a decurion at Pompeii. The tomb is handsome — very elegant, indeed — but it con- tained neither urns, nor sarcophagi; it probably was not a place of burial, but a simple cenotaph, an honorary monument. The same may be said of the handsomest mauso- leum on the street, that of the augustal Calventius : a marble altar gracefully decorated with arabesques and reliefs (Œdipus meditating, Theseus reposing, and a young girl lighting a funeral pile). Upon the tomb are still carved the insignia of honor belong- ing to Calventius, the oaken crowns, the hisellium (a bench with seats for two), the stool, and the three letters O. C. S. (ph civicm servatum), indicating that to the illustrious dead was due the safety of a citizen of Rome. The Street of the Tombs, it will be seen, was a sort of Pantheon. An inscription discovered there and often repeated (that which, under Charles III., was the first that revealed the existence of Pom- peii), informs us that, upon the order of Yespasian, the tribune Suedius Clemens had yielded to the commune of Pompeii the places occupied by the THE SUBUEBS. Ill private individuals, which meant that the notables only, authorized by the decurions, had the right to sleep their last slumber in this triumphal avenue, while the others had to be dispossessed. Still the hand of Home ! Another monument — the one attributed to Scaurus — w r as very curious, owing to the gladiatorial scenes carved on it, and which, according to custom, repre- sented real combats. Each figure was surmounted with an inscription indicating the name of the gladi- ator and the number of his victories. We know, already, that these sanguinary games formed part of the funeral ceremonies. The heirs of the de- ceased made the show for the gratification of the populace, either around the tombs or in the amphi- theatre, whither we shall go at the close of our stroll, and where we shall describe the carvings on the pretended monument of Scaurus. The tomb of Nevoleia Tyche, much too highly decorated, encrusted with arabesques and reliefs repre- senting the portrait of that lady, a sacrifice, a ship (a symbol of life, say the sentimental antiquaries), is covered with a curious inscription, which I translate literally. 112 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. " Nevoleia Tjché y f reedwoman of Julia, for herself and for Caius Munatius Faust us, knight and mayor of the suburb, to whom the decurions, with the consent of the people, had awarded the honor of the hisellium. This monument has been offered during her lifetime by ISTevoleia Tyché to her f reedmen and to those of C. Munatius Faustus." Assuredly, after reading this inscription, we cannot reproach the fair Pompeians with concealing their affections from the public. Nevoleia certainly was not the wife of Munatius ; nevertheless, she loved him well, since she made a trysting with him even in the tomb. It was Queen Caroline Murat who, accom- panied by Canova, was the first to penetrate to the inside of this dovecote (January 14, 1813). There were opened in her presence several glass urns with leaden cases, on the bottom of which still floated some ashes in a liquid not yet dried up, a mixture of water, wine, and oil. Other urns contained only some bones and the small coin which has been taken for Charon's obolus. I have many other tombs left to mention. There are three, which are sarcophagi, still complete, never THE SUBURBS. 113 open, and proving that the ancients buried their dead even before Christianity prohibited the use of the funeral pyre. Families had their choice between the two systems, and burned neither men who had been struck by lightning (they thought the bodies of such to be incorruptible), nor new-born infants who had not yet cut their teeth. Thus it was that the remains of Diomed's youngest children could not be found, while those of the elder ones were preserved in a glass urn contained in a vase of lead. A tomb that looks like a sentry-box, and stands as though on duty in front of the Herculaneum gate, had, during the eruption, been the refuge of a soldier, whose skeleton w T as found in it. Another strangely-decorated monument forms a covered hémi- cycle turned toward the south, fronting the sea, as though to offer a shelter for the fatigued and heated passers-by. Another, of rounded shape, presents inside a vault bestrewn with small flowers and decorated with bas-reliefs, one of which represents a female laying a fillet on the bones of her child. Other monuments are adorned with garlands. One of the least curious contained the magnificent blue and white 10* 114 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. glass vase of which I shall have to speak further on That of the priestess Mamia, ornamented with a superb inscription, forms a large circular bench ter- minating in a lion's claw. Visitors are fond of resting there to look out upon the landscape and the sea. Let us not forget the funereal triclinium, a simply-deco- rated dining-hall, where still are seen three beds of ma- sonry, used at the banquets given in honor of the dead. These feasts, at which nothing was eaten but shell-fish (poor fare, remarks Juvenal), were celebrated nine days after the death. Hence came their title, noven- dialia. They were also called silicernia; and the guests conversed at them about the exploits and benevolent deeds of the man who had ceased to live. Polybius boasts greatly of these last honors paid to illustrious citizens. Thence it was, he says, that Roman greatness took its rise. In fact, even at Pompeii, in this humble canvpo sa?ito of the little city, we see at every step virtue rewarded after death by some munificent act of the decurions. Sometimes it is a perpetual grant (a favor difficult to obtain), indicated by the following letters : H. M. H. N. S. (hoc monwnentum hœredes non THE SUBURBS. 115 seqidtur), insuring to them the perpetual possession of their sepulchre, which could not be disposed of by their heirs. Sometimes the space conceded was indicated upon the tomb. For instance, we read in the sep- ulchre of the family of Nistacidius : " A. Nistacidius Ilelenus, mayor of the suburb Augusto-Felix. To Nistacidius Januarius and to Mesionia Satulla. Fif- teen feet in depth, fifteen feet in frontage." This bench of the priestess Mamia and that of Aulus Vetius (a military tribune and duumvir dis- pensing justice) were in like maimer constructed, with the consent of the people, upon the lands conceded by the decurions. In fine — and this is the most sin- gular feature — animals had their monuments. This, at least, is what the guides will tell you, as they point out a large tomb in a street of the suburbs. They call it the sepolcro del bestiani, because the skeletons of bulls were found in it. The antiquaries rebel against this opinion. Some, upon the strength of the carved masks, affirm that it was a burial place for actors ; others, observing that the inclosure walls shut in quite a spacious temple, intimate that it was a cemetery for priests. For my part, I have nothing to offer against 116 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. tlie opinion of the guides. The Egyptians, whose gods Rome adopted, interred the bull Apis magnificently. Animals might, therefore, find burial in the noble suburb of Pompeii. As for the lower classes, they slept their final sleep where they could ; perhaps in the common burial pit {commune sepidcrmn), an ancient barbarism that has been kept up until our times; perhaps in those public burial ranges where one could purchase a simple niche (plia) for his urn. These niches were sometimes humble and touching presents interchanged by poor people. And in this street, where death is so gay, so vain, so richly adorned, where the monuments arose amid the foliage of trees perennially green, which they had endeavored, but without success, to render serious and sombre, where the mausolea are pavilions and dining- rooms, in which the inscriptions recall whole narratives of life and even love affairs, there stood spacious inns and sumptuous villas — for instance, those of Arrius Diomed and Cicero. This Arrius Diomed was one of the freedmen of Julia, and the mayor of the suburb. A rich citizen, but with a bad heart, he left his wife and children to perish in his cellar, and fled THE SUBURBS. 117 alone with one slave only, and all the silver that he could carry away. He perished in front of his garden gate. May the earth press heavily upon him ! His villa, which consisted of three stories, not placed one above the other, but descending in terraces from the top of the hill, deserves a visit or two. You will there see a pretty court surrounded with columns and small rooms, one of which — of an elliptical shape and opening on a garden, and lighted by the evening twilight, but shielded from the sun by windows and by curtains, the glass panes and rings of which have been found — is the pleasantest nook cleared out among these ruins. You will also be shown the baths, the saloons, the bedchambers, the garden, a host of small apartments brilliantly decorated, basins of marble, and the cellar still intact, with amphorae, inside of which were still a few drops of wine not yet dried up, the place where lay the poor suffocated family — seventeen skeletons surprised there together by death. The fine ashes that stifled them having hardened with time, retain the print of a young girl's bosom. It was this strange mould, which is now kept at the museum, that inspired the Arria Marcella of Théophile Gau- 118 THE WONDEKS OF POMPEII. tier — that author's masterpiece, perhaps, but at all events a masterpiece. As for Cicero, get them to show you his villa, if you choose. You will see absolutely nothing there, and it has been filled up again. Fine paintings were found there previously, along with superb mosaics and a rich collection of precious articles ; but I shall not copy the inventory. Was it really the house of Cicero ? Who can say % Antiquaries will have it so, and so be it, then! I do not deny that Cicero had a country property at Pompeii, for he often mentions it in his letters ; but where it was, exactly, no one can demon- strate. He could have descried it from Baise or Mi- senum, he somewhere writes, had he possessed longer vision ; but in such case he could also have seen the entire side of Pompeii that looks toward the sea. Therefore, I put aside these useless discussions and resume our methodical tour. I have shown you the ancients in their public life ; at the Forum and in the street, in the temples and in the wine-shops, on the public promenade and in the cemeteries. I shall now endeavor to come upon them THE SUBURBS. 119 in their private life, and, for this end, to peep at them first in a place which was a sort of intermediate point between the street and the house. I mean the hot baths, or thermae. Y. THE TÏÏEKIJ;. The Hot Baths at Rome. — The Therms of Stabile. — A Tilt at Sun Dials. — A Complete Bath, as the Ancients Considered It; the Apartments, the Slaves, the Unguents, the Strigill,e. — A Saying of the Emperor Hadrian. — The Baths for Women. — The Reading Room. — The Roman Newspaper. — The Heating Apparatus. The Romans were almost amphibious. They bathed themselves as often as seven times per diem ; and young people of style passed a portion of the day, and often a part of the night, in the warm baths. Hence the importance which these establishments assumed in ancient times. There were eight hundred and fifty-six public baths at Rome, in the reign of Augustus. Three thousand bathers could assemble in the thermae of Caracalla, which had sixteen hun- dred seats of marble or of porphyry. The thermse of Septimius Severus, situated in a park, covered a space of one hundred thousand square feet, and (120) THE THER1VLE. 121 comprised rooms of all kinds: gymnasia, academic halls where poets read their verses aloud, arenas for gladiators, and even theatres. Let us not forget that the Bull and the Farnese Hercules, now so greatly admired at Naples, and the masterpieces of the Vatican, the Torso at the Belvidere, and the Laocoon were found at the baths. These immense palatial structures were accessible to everybody. The price of admission was a qttadrans, and the quadrmis was the fourth part of an as; the latter, in Cicero's time, was worth about one cent and two mills. Even this charge was afterward abolished. At daybreak, the sound of a bell announced the opening of the baths. The rich went there particu- larly between the middle of the day and sunset ; the dissipated went after supper, in defiance of the pre- scribed rules of health. I learn from Juvenal, how- ever, that they sometimes died of it. Nevertheless, Nero remained at table from noon until midnight, after which he took warm baths in winter and snow baths in summer. In the earlier times of the republic there was a difference of hours for the two sexes. The thermsG 11 122 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. were monopolized alternately by the men and the women, who never met there. Mcdesty was carried so far that the son would not bathe with his father, nor even with his father-in-law. At a later period, men and women, children and old folks, bathed pell- mell together at the public baths, until the Emperor Hadrian, recognizing the abuse, suppressed it. Pompeii, or at least that portion of Pompeii which has been exhumed, had two public bathing establish- ments. The most important of these, namely, the Stabian baths, was very spacious, and contained all sorts of apartments, side rooms, round and square basins, small ovens, galleries, porticoes, etc., without counting a space for bodily exercises (palœstra) where the young Pompeians went through their gym- nastics. This, it will be seen, was a complete water- cure establishment. The most curious thing dug up out of these ruins is a Berosian sun-dial marked with an Oscan inscrip- tion announcing that N*. Atinius, son of Marius the quaestor, had caused it to be executed, by order of the decurions, with the funds resulting from the public fines. Sun-dials were no rarity at Pompeii. THE TI1ERMJ2. 128 They existed there in every shape and of every price ; among them was one elevated upon an Ionic column of cvpollino marble. These primitive time-pieces were frequently offered by the Poman magistrates for the adornment of the monuments, a fact that greatly displeased a certain parasite whom Plautus describes : "May the gods exterminate the man who first in- vented the hours ! " he exclaims, " who first placed a sun-dial in this city ! the traitor who has cut the day in pieces for my ill-luck ! In my childhood there was no other time-piece than the stomach ; and that is the best of them all, the most accurate in giving notice, unless, indeed, there be nothing to eat. But, nowa- days, although the side-board be full, nothing is served up until it shall please the sun. Thus, since the town has become full of sun-dials, you see nearly everybody crawling about, half starved and emaciated." The other thermœ of Pompeii are much smaller, but better adorned, and, above all, in better preservation. Would you like to take a full bath there in the antique style ? You enter now by a small door in the rear, and traverse a corridor where five hundred lamps were found — a striking proof that the Pompeians 124 THE WOKDEES OF POMPEII. passed at least a portion of the niglit at the baths. This corridor conducts you to the wpodyteres or sjpolia- torium, the place where the bathers undress. At first blush you are rather startled at the idea of taking off your clothes in an apartment with six doors, but the ancients, who were better seasoned than we are, were not afraid of currents of air. While a slave takes your clothing and your sandals, and another, the capsarius, relieves you of your jewels, which he will deposit in a neighboring office, look at the apart- ment ; the cornice ornamented with lyres and griffins, above which are ranges of lamps ; the arched ceiling forming a semicircle divided off in white panels edged with red, and the white mosaic of the pavement bordered with black. Here are stone benches to sit down upon, and pins fixed in the walls, where the slave hangs up your white woollen toga and your tunic. Above there is a skylight formed of a single very thick pane of glass, and, firmly inclosed within an iron frame, which turns upon two pivots. The glass is roughened on one side to prevent inquisitive people from peeping into the hall where we are. On each side of the window some reliefs, now greatly damaged, represent combats of giants. THE TIIEEMJE. 125 Here you are, as nude as an antique statue. Were you a true Roman, you would now step into an adjoining cabinet which was the anointing place (elœthesium), where the anointing with oil was done, and, after that, you will go and play tennis in the court, which was reached by a corridor now walled up. The blue vault w^as studded with golden stars. But you are not a true Eoman ; you have come hither simply to take a hot or a cold bath. If a cold one, pass on into the small room that opens at the end of the hall. It is the frigidarium. This frigidariitm or natatio is a circular room, which strikes you at the outset by its excellent state of preservation. In the middle of it is hollowed out a spacious round basin of w T hite marble, four yards and a half in diameter by about four feet in depth ; it might serve to-day — nothing is wanting but the water, says Overbeck. An inside circular series of steps enabled the Pompeians to bathe in a sitting posture. Four niches, prepared at the places where the angles would be if the apartment were square, contained benches where the bathers rested. The walls were painted yellow and adorned with green 11* 126 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. branches. The frieze and pediment were red and decorated with white bas-reliefs. The vault, which was blue and open overhead, was in the shape of a truncated cone. It was clear, brilliant, and gay, like the antique life itself. Do you prefer a warm bath? Retrace your steps and, from the apodyteros, where you left your cloth- ing, pass into the tepidarium. This hall, which is the richest of the bathing establishment, is paved in white mosaic with black borders, the vault richly ornamented with stucatitre and white paintings standing forth from a red and blue background. These reliefs in stucco represent cupids, chimeras, dolphins, does pursued by lions, etc. The red walls are adorned with closets, perhaps intended for the linen of the bathers, over which jutted a cornice supported by Atlases or Telamons in baked clay covered with stucco. A pretty border frame formed of arabesques separates the cornice from the vault. A large window at the extremity flanked by two figures in stucco lighted up the tepidarium, while subterranean conduits and a large brazier of bronze retained for it that lukewarm (tepida) tem- perature which gave it the peculiar name. THE THERMS. 127 This bronze brazier is still in existence, along with three benches of the same metal found in the same place; an inscription — IL JSTigidius Vaccula P. 8. (pecuniâ sua ) — designates to us the donor who pun- ning on his own name Vaccula, had caused a little cow to be carved upon the brazier; and on the feet of the benches, the hoofs of that quiet animal. The bottom of this precious heater formed a huge grating with bars of bronze, upon which bricks were laid; upon these bricks extended a layer of pumice-stones, and upon the pumice-stones the light- ed coals. What, then, was the use to which this handsome tepidarium was applied? Its uses were manifold, as you will learn farther on, but, for the moment, it is to prepare you, by a gentle warmth, for the tem- perature of the stove that you are going to enter through a door which closed of itself by its own weight, as the shape of the hinges indicates. This caldarium is a long room at the ends of which rises, on one side, something like the parapet of a well, and on the other a square basin. The middle of the room is the stove, properly speaking. 128 THE W0NDEES OF POMPEII. The steam did not circulate in pipes, but exhaled from the wall itself and from the hollow ceiling in warm emanations. The adornments of the walls consisted of simple flutings. The square basin (alveus or bajptisteriwn) which served for the warm baths w r as of marble. It was ascended by three steps and descended on the inside by an interior bench upon which ten bathers could sit together. Finally, on the other side of the room, in a semi- circular niche, rose the well parapet of which I spoke; it was a labmcm, constructed with the public funds. An inscription informs us that it cost seven hundred and fifty sestertii, that is to say, something over thirty dollars. Yet this labrum is a large mar- ble vessel seven feet in diameter. Marble has grown dearer since then. On quitting the stove, or warm bath, the Pom- peians wet their heads in that large wash-basin, where tepid w r ater which must, at that moment, have seemed cold, leaped from a bronze pipe still visible. Others still more courageous plunged into the icy water of the frigidarium, and came out of it, they said, stronger and more supple in their limbs. I prefer believing them to imitating them. THE THERMS. 129 Have you had enough of it? Would you leave the heating room? You belong to the slaves who are waiting for you, and will not let you go. You are streaming with perspiration, and the tractator, armed with a strigilla, or flesh brush, is there to rasp your body. You escape to the tepidarium; but it is there that the most cruel operations await you. You belong, as I remarked, to the slaves; one of them cuts your nails, another plucks out your stray hair, and a third still seeks to press your body and rasp the skin with his brush, a fourth prepares the most fearful frictions yet to ensue, while others deluge you with oils and es- sences, and grease you with perfumed unguents. You asked just now what was the use of the tepi- darium; you now know, for you have been made acquainted with the Roman baths. A word in reference to the unguents with which you have just been rubbed. They were of all kinds ; you have seen the shops where they were sold. They were perfumed with myrrh, spikenard, and cinnamon ; there was the Egyptian unguent for the feet and legs, the Phoenician for the cheeks 130 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. and the breast, and tlie Sisymbrian for the two arms; the essence of marjoram for the eyebrows and the hair, and that of wild thyme for the nape of the neck and the keees. These unguents were very dear, but they kept up youth and health. 1 "How have you managed to preserve yourself so long and so well ? " asked Augustus of Pollio. " With wine inside, and oil outside, " responded the old man. As for the utensils of the baths (a collection of them is still preserved at the Naples museum on an iron ring), they consisted first of the strigilla, then of the little bottle or vial of oil, and a sort of stove called the scajphium. All these, along with the slippers, the apron, and the purse, composed the baggage that one took with him to the baths. The most curious of these instruments was the strigilla or scraper, bent like a sickle and hollowed in a sort of channel. With this the slave curried the bather's body. The poor people of that country who bathed in the time of the Romans — they have not kept up the custom — and who had no strigillarii at their service, rubbed themselves against the wall. THE THERMJS. 131 One day the Emperor Hadrian seeing one of his vet- erans thus engaged, gave him money and slaves to strigillate him. A few days afterward, the Emperor, going to the baths, saw a throng of paupers who, whenever they caught sight of him, began to rub vigorously against the wall. He merely said : " Rub yourselves against each other ! " There w T ere other apartments adjoining those that I have designated, and very similar to them, only simpler and not so well furnished. These modest baths served for the slaves, think some, and for the women, according to others. The latter opinion I think, lacks gallantry. In front of this edifice, at the principal entrance of the baths, opened a tennis-court, surrounded with columns and flanked by a crypt and a saloon. Many inscriptions covered the walls, among others the announcement of a show with a hunt, awnings, and sprinklings of perfumed water. It was there that the Pompeians assembled to hear the news concerning the public shows and the rumors of the day. There they could read the dispatches from Home. This is no anachronism, good reader, for newspapers were known to the ancients — see Leclerc's book — 132 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. and they were called the diurnes or daily doings of the Roman people ; diurnals and journals are two words belonging to the same family. Those ancient newspapers were as good in their way as onr own. They told about actors who were hissed ; about fune- ral ceremonies ; of a rain of milk and blood that fell during the consulate of M. Acilius and 0. Porcius; of a sea-serpent — but no, the sea-serpent is modern. Odd facts like the following could be read in them. This took place twenty eight years after Jesus Christ, and must have come to the Pompeians assembled in the baths: "When Titus Sabinus was condemned, with his slaves, for having been the friend of Germ- anicus, the dog of the former could not be got away from the spot, but accompanied the prisoner to the place of execution, uttering the most doleful howls in the presence of a crowd of people. Some one threw him a piece of bread and he carried it to his master's lips, and when the corpse was tossed into the Tiber, the dog dashed after it, and strove to keep it on the surface, so that people came from all directions to admire the animal's devotion." We are nowhere informed that the Roman journals THE THEEMiE. 133 were subjected to government stamp and security for good behavior, but they were no more free than those of France. Here is an anecdote reported by Dion or that subject : "It is well known/' he says, "that an artist re- stored a large portico at Home which was threat- ening to fall, first by strengthening its foundations at all points, so that it could not be displaced. He then lined the walls with sheep's fleeces and thick mattresses, and, after having attached ropes to the entire edifice, he succeeded, by dint of manual force and the use of capstans, in giving it its former po- sition. But Tiberius, through jealousy, would not allow the name of this artist to appear in the newspapers." Now that you have been told a little concerning the ways of the Roman people, you may quit the Thermae, but not without casting a glance at the heating apparatus visible in a small adjacent court. This you approach by a long corridor, from the ajpodytera. There you find the hyjpocaust, a spa- cious round fireplace which transmitted warm air through lower conduits to the stove, and heated the 134 THE WONDEKS OF POMPEII. two boilers built into tlie masonry and supplied from a reservoir. From this reservoir the water fell cold into the first boiler, which sent it lukewarm into the second, and the latter, being closer to the fire, gave it forth at a boiling temperature. A conduit carried the hot water of the second boiler to the square basin of the calidarium and another conveyed the tepid water of the first boiler to the large receptacle of the labrum. In the fire-place was found a quantity of rosin which the Pompeians used in kindling their fires. Such were the Ther- mse of a small Roman city. VI. THE DWELLINGS. Paratus and Pansa. — The Atrium and the Peristyle. — The Dwelling Re- furnished and Repeopled. — The Slaves, the Kitchen, and the Table. — The Morning Occupations of a Pompeian. — The Toilet of a Pompeian Lady. — A Citizen Supper : the Courses, the Guests. — The Homes of the Poor, and the Palaces of Rome. In order, now, to study the home of antique times, we have but to cross the street of the baths ob- liquely. We thus reach the dwelling of the sedile Pansa. PIe ; at least, is the proprietor designated by general opinion, which, according to my ideas, is wrong in this particular. An inscription painted on the door-post has given rise to this error. The inscription runs thus : Pansam œdilem Paratus rogat. This the early antiquarians translated: Pa- ratus invoices Pansa the œdile. The early antiqua- ries erred. They should have rendered it: Paratus demands Pansa for œdile. It was not an invoca- tion but an electoral nomination. We have already (135) 186 THE WONDEES OF POMPEII. deciphered many like inscriptions. Universal suf- frage put itself forward among the ancients as it does with us. Hence, the dwelling that I am about to enter was not that of Pansa, whose name is found thus suggested for the sedileship in many other places, but rather that of Paratus, who, in order to des- ignate the candidate of his choice, wrote the name on his door-post. Such is my opinion, but, as one runs the risk of muddling everything by changing names already accepted, I do not insist upon it. So let us enter the house of Pansa the sedile. This dwelling is not the most ornate, but it is the most regular in Pompeii, and also the least com- plicated and the most simply complete. Thus, all the guides point it out as the model house, and per- ceiving that they are right in so doing, I will imi- tate them. In what did a Pompeian's dwelling differ from a small stylish residence or villa of modern times? In a thousand and one points which w T e shall dis- cover, step by step, but chiefly in this, that it was THE DWELLINGS. 137 turned inwards, or, as it were, doubled upon itself; not that it w r as, as has been said, altogether a stranger to the street, and presented to the latter only a large painted wall, a sort of lofty screen. The upper stories of the Pompeian houses having nearly all crumbled, we are not in a position to affirm that they did not have windows opening on the public streets. I have already shown you mœni- ana or suspended balconies from which the pretty girls of the place could ogle the passers-by. But it is ce] tain that the first floor, consisting of the finest and best occupied apartments, grouped its rooms around two interior courts and turned their backs to the street. Hence, these two courts open- ing one behind the other, the development of the front was but a small affair compared with the depth of the house. These courts were called the atrium and the peristyle. One might say that the atrium was the public and the peristyle the private part of the establishment; that the former belonged to the world and the second to the family. This arrangement nearly corresponded with the division of the Greek 138 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. dwelling into andronitis and gynaikotis, the side for the men and the side for the women. Around the atrium were usually ranged — we must not be too rigorously precise in these distinctions — the rooms intended for the people of the house, and those who called upon them. Around the peristyle were the rooms reserved for the private occupancy of the family. I commence with the atrium. It was reached from the street by a narrow alley (the jorothyritm), opening, by a two-leaved door, upon the sidewalk. The doors have been burned, but we can picture them to ourselves according to the paintings, as being of oak, with narrow panels adorned with gilded nails, provided with a ring to open them by, and surmounted with a small window lighting up the alley. They opened inwards, and were secured by means of a bolt, which shot vertically downward into the threshold instead of reaching across. I enter right foot foremost, according to the Roman custom (to enter with the left foot was a bad omen) ; and I first salute the inscription on the threshold {salve) which bids me welcome. The porter's lodge THE DWELLINGS. 139 (cella ostiarii) was usually hollowed out in the entry- way, and the slave in question was sometimes chained, a precaution which held him at his post, undoubtedly, but which hindered him from pursuing robbers. Sometimes, there was only a dog on guard, in his place, or merely the representation of a dog in mosaic : there is one in excellent preservation at the Museum in Naples retaining the famous inscription {Cave canem) — " Beware of the dog ! " The atrium was not altogether a court, but rather a large hall covered with a roof, in the middle of which opened a large bay window. Thus the air and the light spread freely throughout the spacious room, and the rain fell from the sky or dripped down over the four sloping roofs into a marble basin, called impluvium, that conveyed it to the cistern, the mouth of which is still visible. The roofs usually rested on large cross-beams fixed in the walls. In such case, the atrium was Tuscan, in the old fashion. Some- times, the roofs rested on columns planted at the four corners of the impluvium: then, the opening en- larged, and the atrium became a tetrastyle. Some authors mention still other lands of atria — the Co- 140 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII, rinthian, which was richly decorated ; the dijpluviatum, where the roof, instead of sloping inward, sloped outw r ard and threw off the rain-water into the street ; the testudinatum, in which the roof looked like an immense tortoise-shell, etc. But these forms of roofs, especially the last mentioned, were rare, and the Tuscan atrium was almost everywhere predominant, as we find it on Pansa's house. Place yourself at the end of the alley, with youi back toward the street, and you command a view oi this little court and its dependencies. It is needless to say that the roof has disappeared: the eruption consumed the beams, the tiles have been broken by falling, and not only the tiles but the antefixes, cut in palm-leaves or in lion's heads, which spouted the water into the impluvium. Nothing remains but the basin and the partition walls which marked the subdivi- sions of the ground-floor. One first discovers a room of considerable size at the end, between a smaller room and a corridor, and eight other side cabinets. Of these eight cabinets, the six that come first, three to the right and three to the left, were bedrooms, or cuhicula. What first strikes the observer is their TIIE DWELLINGS. 141 diminutive size. There was room only for the bed, which was frequently indicated by an elevation of the masonry, and on that mattresses or sheepskins w T ere stretched. The bedsteads often were also of bronze or wood, quite like those or our time. These eubicula received the air and the light through the door, which the Pompeians probably left open in summer. Next to the eubicula came laterally the alae, the wings, in which Pansa (if not Paratus) received his visitors in the morning — friends, clients, parasites. These rooms must have been rich, paved, as they were, with lozenges of marble and surrounded with seats or divans. The large room at the end was the taljlinum, which separated, or rather connected, the two courts and ascended by two steps to the peristyle. In this tablinum, which was a show-room or parlor, were kept the archives of the family, and the imagines majorum, or images of ancestors, which were wax figures extolled in grand inscriptions, stood there in rows. You have observed that they were conducted with great pomp in the funeral processions. The Romans did not despise these exhibitions of vanity. They 142 THE WONDERS OF POMPJJII. clung all the more tenaciously to their ancestry as they became more and more separated from them by the lapse of ages and the decay of old manners and customs. To the left of the tablinum opened the library, where were found some volumes, unfortunately almost destroyed ; and off to the right of the tablinum ran the fauces, a narrow corridor leading to the peristyle. Thus, a show-room,, two reception rooms, a library, six bedchambers for slaves or for guests, and all these ranged aiound a hall lighted from above, paved in white mosaic with black edging between and adorned with a marble basin, — such is the at- rium of Pansa. I am now going to pass beyond into the fauces. An apartment opens upon this corridor and serves as a pendant to the library ; it is a bedroom, as a recess left in the thickness of the wall for the bedstead indicates. A step more and I reach the peristyle. The peristyle is a real court or a garden sur- rounded with columns forming a portico. In the house of Pansa, the sixteen columns, although originally Doric, had been repaired in the Corinthian style by means of a replastering of stucco. In THE DWELLINGS. 143 some houses tliey were connected by balustrades or walls breast high, on which flowers in either vases or boxes of marble were placed, and in one Pom- peian house there was a frame set with glass panes. In the midst of the court w T as hollowed out a spa- cious basin (piscina), sometimes replaced by a parterre from which the water leaped gaily. In the peri- style of Pansa's house is still seen, in an intercol- umniation, the mouth of a cistern. We are now in the richest and most favored part of the estab- lishment. At the end opens the œcus, the most spacious hall, surrounded, in the houses of the opulent Ro- mans, with columns and galleries, decorated with precious marbles developing into a basilica. But in the house of Pansa do not look for such splen- dors. Its œcus was but a large chamber between the peristyle and a garden. To the right of the œcus, at the end of the court, is half hidden a smaller and less obtrusive apartment, probably an cxedra. On the right wing of the peristyle, on the last range, recedes the tri- clinium. The word signifies triple bed ; three beds 144 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. in fine, ranged in horse-shoe order, occupied this apartment, which served as a dining-room. It is well known that the ancients took their meals in a reclining attitude and resting on their elbows. This Carthaginian custom, imported by the Punic wars, had become established everywhere, even at Pompeii. The ancients said "make the beds," in- stead of " lay the table." To the right of the peristyle on the first range, glides a corridor receding toward a private door that opens on a small side street. This was the jposticum, by which the master of the house evaded the importunate visitors who filled the atrium. This method of escaping bores was called jpostico fallere clientem. It was a device that must have been familiar to rich persons who were beset every morning by a throng of petitioners and hangers-on. The left side of the peristyle was occupied by three bedchambers, and by the kitchen, which was hidden at the end, to the left of the œcus. This kitchen, like most of the others, has its fireplaces and ovens still standing. They contained ashes and THE DWELLINGS. 145 ev^n coal when they were discovered, not to men- tion the cooking utensils in terra cotta and in bronze. Upon the walls were painted two enormous serpents, sacred reptiles which protected the altar of Fornax, the culinary divinity. Other paintings (a hare, a pig, a wild boar's head, fish, etc.) orna- mented this room adjoining which was, in the olden time among the Pompeians, as to-day among the Neapolitans, the most ignoble retreat in the dwell- ing. A cabinet close by served for a pantry, and there were found in it a large table and jars of oil ranged along on a bench. Thus a large portico with columns, surrounding a court adorned with a marble basin {piscinci)\ around the portico on the right, three bed- chambers or cubicida ; on the right, a rear door (posticum) and an eating room (triclinium) ; at the end, the grand saloon (œcus), between an exedra and kitchen — such was the peristyle of Pansa. This relatively spacious habitation had still a third depth (allow me the expression) behind the peri- style. This was the xysta or garden, divided off 146 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. into beds, and the divisions of which, when it was found, could still be seen marked in the ashes. Some antiquaries make it out that the xysta of Pansa was merely a kitchen garden. Between the xysta and the peristyle was the jpergula, a two- storied covered gallery, a shelter against the sun and the rain. The occupants in their flight left behind them a handsome bronze candlestick. Such was the ground-floor of a rich Pompeian dwelling. As for the upper stories, we can say nothing about them. Fire and time have completely destroyed them. They were probably very light structures ; the lower walls could not have supported others. Most of the partitions must have been of wood. We know from books that the women, slaves, and lodgers perched in these pigeon-houses, which, destitute, as they were, of the space reserved for the wide courts and the large lower halls, must have been sufficiently narrow and unpleasant. Other more opulent houses had some rooms that were lacking in the house of Pansa : these were, first, bathrooms, the7i a spherister for tennis, a jpinacotliek or gallery of paintings, a sacellum or family chapel, and what rao^e THE DWELLINGS. 147 I know not. The diminutiveness of these small rooms admitted of their being infinitely multiplied. I have not said all. The house of Pansa formed an island (insula) all surrounded with streets, upon three of which opened shops that I have yet to visit. At first, on the left angle, a bakery, less complete than the public ovens to which I conducted you in the second chapter preceding this one. There were found ornaments singularly irreconcilable with each other; inscriptions, thoroughly Pagan in their character, which recalled Epicurus, and a Latin cross in relief, very sharply marked upon a wall. This Christian symbol allows fancy to spread her wings, and Bulwer, the romance-writer, has largely profited by it. A shop in the front, the second to the left of the entrance door, communicated with the house. The proprietor, then, was a merchant, or, at least, he sold the products of his vineyards and orchards on his own premises, as many gentlemen vine-growers of Florence still do. A slave called the disjpensator was the manager of this business. Some of these shops opening on a side-street, com- 148 THE WONDEKS OF POMPEII. posed small rooms altogether independent of the house, and probably occupied by inquilini* or lodgers, a class of people despised among the ancients, who highly esteemed the homestead idea. A Roman who did not live under his own roof would cut as poor a figure as a Parisian who did not occupy his own fur- nished rooms, or a Neapolitan compelled to go afoot. Hence, the petty townsmen clubbed together to build or buy a house, which they owned in common, prefer- ring the inconveniences of a divided proprietorship to those of a mere temporary occupancy. But they have greatly changed their notions in that country, for now they move every year. I have done no more here than merely to sketch the plan of the house. Would you refurnish it ? Then, rifle the Naples museum, which has despoiled it. You will find enough of bedsteads, in the collection of bronzes there, for the cubicula; enough of carved benches, tables, stands, and precious vases for the œcus, the exedra, and the wings, and enough of lamps to hang * So strong was this feeling, that the very name inquilinus, or lodger, was an insult. Cicero not having been born at Rome, Cati- line called him offensively civis inquilinus — a lodger citizen. (Sal- lust) Candelabra, Jewelry, and Kitchen Utensils found at Pompeii. THE DWELLINGS. 149 up ; enough, of candelabra to place in the saloons. Stretch carpets over the costly mosaic pavements and even over the simple opus signinum (a mixture of lime and crushed brick) which covered the floor of the unpretending chambers with a solid incrusta- tion. Above all, replace the ceilings and the roofs, and then the doors and draperies ; in fine, revive upon all these walls — the humblest as well as the most splendid — the bright and vivid pictures now effaced. "What light, and what a gay impression ! How all these clear, bold colors gleam out in the sunshine, which descends in floods from an open sky into the peristyle and the atrium ! But that is not all : you must conjure up the dead. Arise, then, and obey our call, O young Pompeians of the first century! I summon Pansa, Paratus, their wives, their children, their slaves; the ostiarius, who kept the door ; the atriensis, who controlled the atrium ; the scoparncs, armed with his birch-broom ; the (yubicularii, who were the bedroom servants; the pedagogue, my colleague, who was a slave like the rest, although he was absolute master of the library, where he alone, perhaps, understood the secrets of 13* 150 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. the papyri it contained. I hasten to the kitchen : I want to see it as it was in the ancient day, — the carnariicm, provided with pegs and nails for the fresh provisions, is suspended to the ceiling ; the cook- ing ranges are garnished with chased stew-pans and coppers, and large bronze pails, with luxurious handles, are ranged along on the floor ; the w^alls are covered with shining utensils, long-handled spoons bent in the shape of a swan's neck and head, skillets and frying-pans, the spit and its iron stand, gridirons, pastry-moulds (patty-pans ?) fish-moulds (formella), and what is no less curious, the apalare and the trua, flat spoons pierced with holes either to fry eggs or to beat up liquids, and, in fine, the funnels, the sieves, the strainers, the colum vinarium, which they covered with snow and then poured their wine over it, so that the latter dropped freshened and cooled into the cups below, — all rare and precious relics preserved by Vesuvius, and showing in what odd corners elegance nestled, as Molière would have said, among the Romans of the olden times. None but men entered this kitchen : they were the cook, or coquus, and his subaltern, the slave of the THE DWELLINGS. 151 slave, focarius. The meal is ready, and now come other slaves assigned to the table, — the tricliniarches, or foreman of all the rest; the lectisterniator, who makes the beds; the praegustator, who tastes the viands beforehand to reassure his master ; the structor, who arranges the dishes on the plateaux or trays ; the scissor, who carves the meats ; and the yoxmgjj^cillatro, or jpincerna, who pours out the wine into the cups, some- times dancing as he does so (as represented by Molière) with the airs and graces of a woman or a spoiled child. There is festivity to-day : Parafais sups with Pansa, or rather Pansa with Paratus, for I persist in thinking that we are in the house of the elector and not of the future sedile. If the master of the house be a real Roman like Cicero, he rose early this morning and began the day with receiving visits. He is rich, and therefore has many friends, and has them of three kinds, — the salutatores, the ductores, and the assectatores. The first-named call upon him at his own house ; the second accompany him to public meetings ; and the third never leave him at all in pub- lic. He has, besides, a number of clients, whom he protects and whom he calls "my father" if they be 152 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. old, and " my brother " if they be young. There are others who come humbly to offer him a little basket (sjoortida), which they carry away full of money or provisions. This morning Paratus has sent off his vis- itors expeditiously ; then, as he is no doubt a pious man, he has gone through his devotions before the domest*3 altar, where his household gods are ranged. We know that he offered peculiar worship to Bacchus, for he had a little bronze statue of that god, with silver eyes; it was, I think, at the entrance of his garden, in a kettle, wrapped up with other precious articles, Paratus tried to save this treasure on the day of the eruption, but he had to abandon it in order to save himself. But to continue my narration of the day as this Pompeian spent it. His devotions over, he took a turn to the Forum, the Exchange, the Basilica, where he supported the candidature of Pansa. From there, unquestionably, he did not omit going to the Thermse, a measure of health ; and, now, at length, he has just returned to his home. During his absence, his slaves have cleansed the marbles, washed the stucco, covered the pavements with sawdust, and, if it be in winter, have lit fuel on large bronze braziers in the open air and THE DWELLINGS. 153 borne them into the saloons, for there are no chim- neys anywhere. The expected guest at length arrives — - salutations to Pansa, the future sedile ! Meanwhile Sabina, the wife of Paratus, has not remained inactive. She has passed the whole morning at her toilet, for the toilet of a Sabina, Pompeian or Roman, is an affair of state, — see Boettger's book. As she awoke she snapped her fingers to summon her slaves, and the poor girls have hastened to accomplish this pro- digious piece of work. First, the applier of cosmetics has effaced the wrinkles from the brows of her mistress, and, then, with her saliva, has prepared her rouge; then, with a needle, she has painted her mistress' eye- lashes and eyebrows, forming two well-arched and tufted lines of jetty hue, which unite at the root of the nose. This operation completed, she has washed Sa- bina's teeth with rosin from Scio, or more simply, with pulverized pumice-stone, and, finally, has overspread her entire countenance with the white powder of lead which was much used by the Romans at that early day. Then came the ornatrix, or hairdresser. The fair Romans dyed their hair blonde, and when the dyeing process was not sufficient, they wore wigs. This 154 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. example was followed by the artists, who put wigs on their statues ; in France they would put on crinoline. Ancient head-dresses were formidable monuments held up with pins of seven or eight inches in length. One of these pins, found at Plerculaneum, is sur- mounted with a Corinthian capital upon which a carved Yenus is twisting her hair with both hands while she looks into a mirror that Cupid holds up before her. The mirrors of those ancient days — let us exhaust the subject ! — were of polished metal ; the richest were composed of a plate of silver applied upon a plate of gold and sustained by a carved handle of wood or ivory ; and Seneca exclaimed, in his testy indignation, "The dowry that the Senate once be- stowed upon the daughter of Scipio would no longer suffice to pay for the mirror of a f reedwoman ! " At length, Sabina's hair is dressed : Heaven grant that she may be pleased with it, and may not, in a fit of rage, plunge one of her long pins into the naked shoulder of the ornatrix ! Now comes the slave who cuts her nails, for never would a Roman lady, or a Ro- man gentleman either, who had any self-respect, have deigned to perform this operation with their own o PL, » 33 j THE DWELLINGS. 155 hands. It was to the barber or tonsor that this office was assigned, along with the whole masculine toilet, generally speaking ; that worthy shaved you, clipped you, plucked you, even washed you and rubbed your skin ; perfumed you with unguents, and curried you with the strigilla if the slaves at the bath had not already done so. Horace makes great sport of an eccentric who used to pare his own nails. Sabina then abandons her hands to a slave who, armed with a set of small pincers and a penknife (the ancients were unacquainted with scissors), acquitted themselves skilfully of that delicate task — a most grave affair and a tedious operation, as the Roman ladies wore no gloves. Gesticulation was for them a science learnedly termed chironomy. Like a skilful instrument, pantomime harmoniously accompanied the voice. Hence, all those striking expressions that we find in authors, — "the subtle devices of the fingers," as Cicero has it; the "loquacious hand" of Petronius. Recall to your memory the beautiful hands of Diana and Minerva, and these two lines of Ovid, which nat- urally come in here : 156 THE WONDEKS OF POMPEII. * ' Exiguo signet gestu quoclcunque loquetur, Cui cligiti pingues, cui scaber unguis erit." # The nail-paring over, there remains the dressing of the person, to be accomplished by other slaves. The seamstresses (carcinatrices) belonged to the least- important class ; for that matter, there was little or no sewing to do on the garments of the ancients. Lucretia had been dead for many years, and the matrons of the empire did not waste their time in spinning wool. "When Livia wanted to make the garments of Augustus with her own hands, this fancy of the Empress was considered to be in very bad taste. A long retinue of slaves (cutters, linen- dressers, folders, etc.), shared in the work of the feminine toilet, which, after all, was the simplest that had been worn since the nudity of the earliest days. Over the scarf which they called trojphiuw^ and which sufficed to hold up their bosoms, the Roman ladies passed a long-sleeved subucula, made of fine wool, and over that they wore nothing but the tunic when in the house. The lïbertinœ, or simple citizens' wives and * Let not fingers that are too thick, and ill-pared nails, make gestures too conspicuous. THE DWELLINGS. 157 daughters, wore this robe short and coming scarcely to the knee, so as to leave in sight the rich bracelets that they wore around their legs. But the matrons length- ened the ordinary tunic by means of a plaited furbe- low or flounce (institû), edged, sometimes, with golden or purple thread. In such case, it took the name of stola, and descended to their feet. They knotted it at the waist, by mea]is of a girdle artistically hidden under a fold of the tueked~up garment. Below the tunic, the women when on the street wore, lastly, their toga, which was a roomy mantle enveloping the bosom and flung back over the left shoulder; and thus attired, they moved along proudly, draped in white woollens. At length, the wife of Paratus is completely at- tired ; she has drawn on the white bootees worn by matrons; unless, indeed, she happens to prefer the sandals worn by the libertinse, — the f reedwomen were so called, — which left those large, handsome Roman feet, which we should like to see a little smaller, uncovered. The selection of her jewelry is now all that remains to be done. Sabina owned some curious specimens that were found in the ruins of her house. The Latins had a discourteous word to designate this 158 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. collection of precious knick-knackery ; they called it the "woman's world," as though it were indeed all that there was in the world for women. One room in the Museum at Naples is full of these exhumed trinkets, consisting of serpents bent into rings and bracelets, circlets of gold set with carved stones, ear- rings representing sets of scales, clusters of pearls, threads of gold skilfully twisted into necklaces; chaplets to which hung amulets, of more or less decent design, intended as charms to w^ard off ill-luck ; pins w^ith carved heads ; rich clasps that held up the tunic sleeves or the gathered folds of the mantle, cameoed with a superb relief and of exquisite workmanship worthy of Greece ; in fine, all that luxury and art, sustaining each other, could invent that was most wonderful. The Pompeian ladies, in their character of provincials, must have carried this love of baubles that cost them so dearly, to extremes : thus, they wore them in their hair, in their ears, on their necks, on their shoulders, their arms, their wrists, their legs, even on their ankles and their feet, but especially on their hands, every finger of which, excepting the middle one, was covered with rings up to the third joint, Necklace, Ring, Bracelets, and Ear-rings found at Pompeu. THE DWELLINGS. 159 wîiere their lovers slipped on those that they desired to exchange with them. Her toilet completed, Sabina descended from her room in the upper story. The ordinary guests, the friend of the house, the clients and the shadows (such was the name applied to the supernumera- ries, the humble doubles whom the invited guests brought with them), awaited her in the peristyle. Nine guests in all — the number of the Muses. It was forbidden to exceed that total at the sup- pers of the triclinium. There were never more than nine, nor less than three, the number of the Graces. "When a great lord invited six thou- sand Romans to his table, the couches were laid in the atrium. But there is not an atrium in Pompeii that could contain the hundredth part of that number. The ninth hour of the day, i. c., the third or fourth in the afternoon, has sounded, and it is now that the supper begins in all respectable houses. Some light collations, in the morning and at noon, have only sharpened the appetites of the guests. All are now assembled; they wash their 160 TUE WONDEKS OF POMPEII. hands and their feet, leave their sandals at the door, and are shown into the triclinium. The three bronze bedsteads are covered with cushions and drapery ; the one at the end {the médius) in one corner represents the place of honor reserved for the important guest, the con- sular personage. On the couch to the right recline the host, the hostess, and the friend of the house. The other guests take the remaining places. Then, in come the slaves bearing trays, which they put, one by one, upon the small bronze table with the marble top which is stationed between the three couches like a tripod. Ah ! what glowing descriptions I should have to make were I at the house of Trimalcion or Lucullus ! I should depict to you the winged hares, the pullets and fish carved in pieces, with pork meat ; the wild boar served up whole upon an enormous platter and stuffed with living thrushes, which fly out in every direction when the boar's stomach is cut open ; the side dishes of birds' tongues ; of enormous murenœ or eels; barbel caught in the Western Ocean and stifled in salt pickle; surprises THE DWELLINGS. 161 of all kinds for the guests, such as sets of dishes descending from the ceiling, fantastic apparitions, dancing girls, mountebanks, gladiators, trained female athletes, — all the orgies, in fine, of those strange old times. But let us not forget where we really are. Paratus is not an emperor, and has to confine himself to a simple citizen repast, quiet and unassu- ming throughout. The bill of fare of one of these suppers has been preserved, and here we give it First Course. — Sea urchins. Paw oysters at discre- tion. Pelorides or palourdes (a sort of shell-fish now found on the coasts of Poitou in France). Thorny shelled oysters; larks; a hen pullet with asparagus; stewed oysters and mussels ; white and black sea-tulips. Second Course. — Spondulae, a variety of oyster; sweet water mussels; sea nettles; becaficoes; cut- lets of kid and boar's meat; chicken pie; beca- ficoes again, but differently prepared, with an as- paragus sauce; murex and purple fish. The latter were but different kinds of shell-fish. Third Course. — The teats of a sow au naturel ; they were cut as soon as the animal had littered ; wild boar's head (this was the main dish) ; sow's 162 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. teats in a ragout; the breasts and necks of roast ducks; fricasseed wild duck; roast hare, a great delicacy; roasted Phrygian chickens; starch cream; cakes from Vicenza. J All this was washed down with the light Pom- peian wine, which w T as not bad, and could be kept for ten years, if boiled. The wine of Vesuvius, once highly esteemed, has lost its reputation, owing to the concoctions now sold to travellers under the label of Lachrymœ Christi. The vintages of the volcano must have been more honestly pre- pared at the period when they were sung by Martial. Every day there is found in the cellars of Pompeii some short-necked, full-bodied, and elon- gated amphora, terminating in a point so as to stick upright in the ground, and nearly all are marked with an inscription stating the age and origin of the liquor they contained. The names of the consuls usually designated the year of the vintage. The further back the consul, the more respectable the wine. A Roman, in the days of the Empire, having been asked under what consul his wine dated, boldly replied, " Under none ! " THE DWELLINGS. 163 thereby proclaiming that his cellar had been stocked tinder the earliest kings of Rome. These inscriptions on the amphorae make us acquainted with an old Yesuvian wine called jpica- ticm, or, in other words, with a taste of pitch; fundanum, or Fondi wine, much esteemed, and many others. In fine, let us not forget the famous growth of Falernus, sung by the poets, which did not disappear until the time of Theodoric. But besides the amphorae, how much other testimony there still remains of the olden libations, — those rich craterce, or broad, shallow goblets of bronze damascened with silver; those delicately chiselled cups; those glasses and bottles which Vesuvius has preserved for us ; that jug, the handle of which is formed of a satyr bending backward to rub his shoulders against the edge of the vase; those vessels of all shapes on which eagles perch or swans and serpents writhe ; those cups of baked clay adorned with so many arabesques and inviting descriptions. " Friend," says one of them " drink of my contents." 4 ' Friend of my soul, this goblet sip !" rhymes the modern bard. 164 THE WONDEES OF POMPEII. What a mass of curious and costly things ! What is the use of rummaging in books! With the mu- seums of Naples before us, we can reconstruct all the triclinia of Pompeii at a glance. There, then, are the guests, gay, serene, reclining or leaning on their elbows on the three couches. The table is before them, but only to be looked at, for slaves are continually moving to and fro, from one to the other, serving every guest with a portion of each dish on a slice of bread. Pansa daintily carries the delicate morsel offered him to his mouth with his fingers, and flings the bread under the table, where a slave, in crouching attitude, gathers up all the debris of the repast. ~No forks are used, for the ancients were unacquainted with them. At the most, they knew the use of the spoon or cochlea, which they employed in eating eggs. After each dish they dipped their fingers in a basin presented to them, and then wiped them upon a napkin that they carried with them as we take our handkerchiefs with us. The wealthiest people had some that were very costly and which they threw into the fire when they had been soiled; the fire THE DWELLINGS. 165 cleansed without burning them. Refined people wiped their fingers on the hair of the cupbearers, — another Oriental usage. Recollect Jesus and Mary Mag- dalene. At length, the repast being concluded, the guests took off their wreaths, which they stripped of their leaves into a goblet that was passed around the circle for every one to taste, and this ceremony concluded the libations. I have endeavored to describe the supper of a rich Pompeian and exhibit his dwelling as it would appear reconstructed and re-occupied. Reduce its dimensions and simplify it as much as possible by suppressing the peristyle, the columns, the paintings, the tablinum, the exedra, and all the rooms devoted to pleasure or vanity, and you will have the house of a poor man. On the contrary, if you develop it, by enriching it beyond measure, you may build in your fancy one of those superb Roman palaces, the extravagant luxuriousness of which augmented, from day to day, under the emperors. Lucius Crassus, who was the first to introduce columns of foreign marble, in his dwelling, erected only six of 166 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. them but twelve feet high. At a later period, Marcus Scaurus surrounded his atrium with a colon- nade of black marble rising thirty-eight feet above the soil. Mamurra did not stop at so fair a limit. That distinguished Roman knight covered his whole house with marble. The residence of Lepidus was the handsomest in Home seventy-eight years before Christ. Thirty-five years later, it was but the hun- dredth. In spite of some attempts at reaction by Augustus, this passion for splendor reached a frantic pitch. A freedman in the reign of Claudius decorated his triclinium with thirty-two columns of onyx. I say nothing of the slaves that were counted by thousands in the old palaces, and by hundreds in the triclinium and kitchen alone. " O ye beneficent gods ! how many men employed to serve a single stomach ! " exclaimed Seneca, who passed in his day for a master of rhetoric. In our time, he would be deemed a socialist. VII. ART IN POMPEII. The Homes of the Wealthy. —The Triangular Forum and the Temples. — Pompeian Architecture: Its Merits and its Defects. — The Artists op the Little City. — The Paintings here, — Landscapes, Figures, Rope- dancers, Dancing-girls, Centaurs, Gods, Heroes, the Iliad Illustrated. — Mosaics. — Statues and Statuettes. — Jewelry. — Carved Glass. — Art and Life. The house of Pansa was large, but not much orna- mented. There are others which are shown in pref- erence to the visitor. Let us mention them concisely in the catalogue and inventory style : The house of the Faun. — Fine mosaics; a master- piece in bronze; the Dancing Faun, of which we shall speak farther on. Besides the atrium and the peristyle, a third court, the xysta, surrounded with, forty- four columns, duplicated on the upper story. Number- less precious things were found there, in the presence of the son of Goethe. The owner was a wine-mer- chant. (?) The house of the Quœstor, or of Castor and Pollux. (167) 1G8 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. — Large safes of very thick and very hard wood, lined with copper and ornamented with arabesques, perhaps the public money-chests, hence this was probably the residence of the quaestor who had charge of the public funds; a Corinthian atrium; fine paintings — the Bacchante, the Medea, the Children of Niobe, etc. Rich development of the courtyards. The hou se of the Poet. — Homeric paintings ; celebra- ted mosaics ; the dog at the doorsill, with the inscrip- tion Cave Canem ; the Choragus causing the recitation of apiece. All these are at the museum. The house of S alius t. — A fine bronze group ; Hercu- les pursuing a deer (taken to the Museum at Palermo) ; a pretty stucco relievo in one of the bedchambers; Three couches of masonry in the triclinium; a decent and modest venereum that ladies may visit. There is seen an Acteon surprising Diana in the bath, the stag's antlers growing on his forehead and the hounds tearing him. The two scenes connect in the same picture, as in the paintings of the middle ages. Was this a warning to rash people? This venereum contained a bedchamber, a triclinium and a lararium, or small marble niche in which the household god was enshrined. AET IN POMPEII. 169 The house of Marcus Lucretius. — Yery curious. A peristyle forming a sort of platform, occupied with baubles, which they have had the good taste to leave there ; a miniature fountain, little tiers of seats, a small conduit, a small fish-tank, grotesque little figures in bronze, statuettes and images of all sorts, — Bacchus and Bacchantes, Fauns and Satyrs, one of which, with its arm raised above its head, is charming. Another in the form of a Hermes holds a kid in its arms; the she- goat trying to get a glimpse of her little one, is rais- ing her fore-feet as though to clamber up on the spoiler. These odds and ends make up a pretty collection of toys, a shelf, as it were, on an ancient what-not of knick-knacks. Then, there are the Adonis and the Hermaphro- dite in the house of Adonis; the sacrarium or do- mestic chapel in the house of the Mosaic Columns; the wild beasts adorning the house of the Hunt; above all, the fresh excavations, where the paintings retain their undiminished brilliance. But if all these houses are to be visited, they are not to be described. Antiquaries dart upon this prey with frenzy, measuring the tiniest stone, discussing the 15 170 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. smallest painting, and leaving not a single frieze or panel without some comment, so that, after having read their remarks, one fancies that every- thing is precious in this exhumed curiosity-shop. These folks deceive themselves and they deceive us; their feelings as virtuosos thoroughly exhaust themselves upon a theme which is very attractive, very curious, 'tis true, but which calls for less com- pletely scientific hands to set it to music, the more so that in Pompeii there is nothing grand, or massive, or difficult to comprehend. Everything stands right forth to the gaze and explains itself as clearly and sharply as the light of day. Moreover, these houses have been despoiled. I might tell you of a pretty picture or a rich mosaic in such-and-such a room. You would go thither to look for it and not find it. The museum at Naples has it, and if it be not there it is nowhere. Time, the atmosphere, and the sunlight have de- stroyed it. Therefore, those who make out an inventory of these houses for you are preparing you bitter disappointments. The only way to get an idea of Pompeian art AET IN POMPEII. 171 is not to examine all these monuments separately, but to group them in one's mind, and then to pay the museum an attentive visit. Thus we can put together a little ideal city, an artistic Pompeii, which we are going to make the attempt to explore. Pompeii had two and even three forums. The third was a market; the first, with which you are already acquainted, was a public square; the other, which we are about to visit, is a sort of Acropolis, inclosed like that of Athens, and placed upon the highest spot of ground in the city. From a bench, still in its proper position at the extremity of this forum, you may distinguish the valley of the Sarno, the shady mountains that close its perspective, the cultivated checker-work of the country side, green tufts of the woodlands, and then the gently curving coast-line where Stabise wound in and out, with the picturesque heights of Sorrento, the deep blue of the sea, the transpar- ent azure of the heavens, the infinite limpidity of the distant horizon, the brilliant clearness and the antique color. Those who have not beheld this scenery, can only half comprehend its monu- 172 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. merits, which would ever be out of place beneath another sky. It was in this bright sunlight that the Pompeian Acropolis, the triangular Forum, stood. Eight Ionic columns adorned its entrance and sustained a por- tico of the purest elegance, from which ran two long slender colonnades widening apart from each other and forming an acute angle. They are still sur- mounted with their architrave, which they lightly supported. The terrace, looking out upon the country and the sea, formed the third side of the triangle, in the middle of which rose some altars, — the us- trinum, in which the dead were burned, a small round temple covering a sacred well, and, finally, a Greek temple rising above all the rest from the height of its foundation and marking its columns unobstructedly against the sky. This platform, rest- ing upon solid supports and covered with monu- ments in a fine style of art, was the best written page and the most substantially correct one in Pompeii. Unfortunately, here, as everywhere else, stucco had been plastered over the stone-work. The columns were painted. Nowhere could a front of AET IN POMPEII. 173 pure marble — the white on the blue — be seen defined against the sky. The remaining temples furnish us few data on architecture. You know those of the Forum. The temple of Fortune, now greatly dilapidated, must have resembled that of Jupiter. Erected by Marcus Tul- lius, a reputed relative of Cicero, it yields us nothing but very mediocre statues and inscriptions full of errors, proving that the priesthood of the place, by no means Ciceronian in their acquirements, did not thoroughly know even their own language. The tem- ple of Esculapius, besides its altar, has retained a very odd capital, Corinthian if you will, but on which cabbage leaves, instead of the acanthus, are seen en- veloping a head of Neptune. The temple of Isis, still standing, is more curious than handsome. It shows * that the Egyptian goddess was venerated at Pompeii, but it tells us nothing about antique art. It is entered at the side, by a sort of corridor leading into the sacred inclosure. The temple is on the right ; the columns inclose it ; a vaulted niche is hollowed out beneath the altar, where it served as a hiding-place for the priests, — at least so say the romance-writers. Un- [* See note on page 198.] 15* 174 THE W01STDEES OF POMPEII. fortunately for this idea, the doorway of the recess stood forth and still stands forth to the gaze, render- ing the alleged trickery impossible. Behind the cella, another niche contained a statue of Bacchus, who was, perhaps, the same god as Osiris. An expurgation room, intended for ablutions and puri- fications, descending to a subterranean reservoir, occupied an angle of the courtyard. In front of this apartment stands an altar, on which were found some remnants of sacrifices. Isis, then, was the only divinity invoked at the moment of the eruption. Her painted statue held a cross with a handle to it, in one hand, and a cithera in the other, and her hair fell in long and carefully curled ringlets. This is all that the temples give us. Artistically speaking, it is but little. Neither are the other monuments much richer in their information con- cerning ancient architecture. They let us know that the material chiefly employed consisted of lava, of tufa, of brick, excellently prepared, having more sur- face and less thickness than ours ; of pe/perino (Sarno stone), which time renders very hard, sometimes with travertine and even marble in the ornaments; then ART IK POMPEII 175 there was Roman mortar, celebrated for its solidity, less perfect at Pompeii, however, than at Rome ; and finally, the stucco surface, covering the entire city with its smooth and polished crust, like a variegated man- tle. But these edifices tell us nothing in particular; there is neither a style peculiar to Pompeii discerni- ble in them, nor do we find artists of the place bearing any noted name, or possessing any singularity of taste and method. On the other hand, there is an easy eclecticism that adopts all forms with equal facility and betrays the decadence or the sterility of the time. I recall the fact that the city was in process of reconstruc- tion when it was destroyed. Its unskilful repairs dis- close a certain predilection for that cheap kind of elegance which among us, has taken the place of art. Stucco tricks off and disfigures everything. Reality is sacrificed to appearance, and genuine elegance to that kind of showy avarice which assumes a false look of profusion. In many places, the flutings are economi- cally preserved by means of moulds that fill them in the lower part of the columns. Painting takes the place of sculpture at every point where it can supply it. The capitals affect odd shapes, sometimes success- 170 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. fully, but always at variance with the simplicity of high art. Add to these objections other faults, glaring at first glance, — for instance, the adornment of the temple of Mercury, where the panels terminate alter- nately in pediments and in arcades; the façade of the purgatorium in the temple of Isis, where the arcade itself cutting the cornice, becomes involved hideously with the pediment. I shall say nothing either, of the fountains, or of the columns, alas! formed of shell-work and mosaic. Faults like these shock the eye of purists; but let us constantly bear in mind that we are in a small city, the finest residence in which belonged to a wine-merchant. We could not with fairness expect to find there the Parthenon, or even the Pantheon of Pome. The Pornpeian architects worked for simple burghers whose moderate wish was to own pretty houses, not too large nor too dear, but of rich external appearance and a gayety of look that gratified the eye. These good trades- men were served to their hearts' content by skil- ful persons who turned everything to good account, cutting rooms by scores within a space that would ART IN POMPEII. 177 not be sufficient for one large saloon in our palaces, profiting by all the accidents of the soil to raise their structures by stories into amphitheatres, de- vising one ingenious subterfuge after another to mask the defects of alignment, and, in a word, with feeble resources and narrow means, realizing what the ancients always dreamed — art combined with every-day life. For proof of this I point to their paintings covering those handsome stucco vv r alls, which were so carefully prepared, so frequently overlaid with the finest mortar, so ingeniously dashed with shin- ing powder, and, then, so often smoothed, repol- ished and repacked with wooden rollers that they, at last, looked like and passed for marble. "Whether painted in fresco or dry, in encaustic or by other processes, matters little — that belongs to technical authorities to decide,* * The learned Minervini has remarked certain differences in the washes put on the Pompeian walls. He has indicated finer ones with which, according to him, the ancients painted in fresco their more studied compositions, landscapes, and figures, while ordinary decorations were painted dry by inferior painters. I recall the fact, as I pass on, that several paintings, particularly the 178 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. However that may be, these mural decorations were nevertheless a feast for the eyes, and are so still. They divided the walls into five or six panels, developing themselves between a socle and a frieze; the socle being deeper, the frieze clearer in tint, the interspace of a more vivid red and yellow, for in- stance, while the frieze was white and the socle black. In plain houses these single panels were di- vided by simple lines; then gradually, as the house selected became more opulent, these lines were re- placed by ornamental frames, garlands, pilasters, and, ere long, fantastic pavilions, in which the fancy of the decorative artist disported at will. However, the socles became covered with foliage, the friezes with arabesques, and the panels with paintings, the latter most important, were detached, but secured to the wall with iron clamps. It has ever been noticed that the back of these pictures did not adhere to the walls— an excellent precaution against dampness. This custom of sawing off and shifting mural paintings was very ancient. It is known that the wealthy Romans adorned their houses with works of art borrowed or stolen from Greece, and all will remember the famous contract of Mummius, who, in arranging with some merchants to convey to Rome the mas- terpieces of Zeuxis and Apelles, stipulated that if they should be lost or damaged on the way, the merchants should replace them at their own expense. ART IN POMPEII. 179 quite simple at first, such as a flower, a fruit, a land- scape ; pretty soon a figure, then a group, then at last great historical or religious subjects that sometimes covered a whole piece of wall and to which the socle and the frieze served as a sort of showy and majestic framework. Thus, the fancy of the decorator could rise even to the height of epic art. Those paintings will be eternally studied : they give us precious data, not only on art, but concerning ev- erything that relates to antiquity, — its manners and cus- toms, its ceremonies, its costumes, the homes of those days, the elements and nature as they then appeared. Pompeii is not a gallery of pictures ; it is rather an il- lustrated journal of the first century. One there sees odd landscapes ; a little island on the edge of the wa- ter ; a bank of the Nile where an ass, stooping to drink, bends toward the open jaws of a crocodile which he does not see, while his master frantically but vainly endeavors to pull him back by the tail. These pieces nearly always consist of rocks on the edge of the water, sometimes interspersed with trees, some- times covered with ranges of temples, sometimes stretching away in rugged solitudes, where some 180 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. shepherd wanders astray with his flock, or from time to time, enlivened with a historical scene (Andro- meda and Perseus). Then come little pictures of in- animate nature, — baskets of fruit, vases of flowers, household utensils, bunches of vegetables, the collec- tion of office-furniture painted in the house of Lucre- tius (the inkstand, the stylus, the paper-knife, the tab- lets, and a letter folded in the shape of a napkin with the address, " To Marcus Aurelius, flamen of Mars, and decurion of Pompeii"). Sometimes these paintings have a smack of humor; there are two that go to- gether on the same wall. One of them shows a cock and a hen strolling about full of life, while upon the other the cock is in durance vile, with his legs tied and looking most doleful indeed: his hour has come ! I say nothing of the bouquets in which lilies, the iris, and roses predominate, nor of the festoons, the gar- lands, nay, the whole thickets that adorn the walls of Sallust's garden. Let me here merely point out the pictures of animals, the hunting scenes, and the combats of wild beasts, treated with such astonishing vigor and raciness. There is one, especially, still AKT IN POMPEII. 181 quite fresh and still in its place, in one of the houses recently discovered. It represents a wild boar rush- ing headlong upon a bear, in the presence of a lion, who looks on at him with the most superb indiffer- ence. It is divined, as the Neapolitans say; that is, the painter has intuitively conceived the feelings of the two animals ; the one blind with reckless fury, the other supremely confident in his own agility and su- perior strength. And now I come to the human form. Here we have endless variety ; and all kinds, from the carica- ture to the epic effort, are attempted and exhausted, — the wagon laden w T ith an enormous goat-skin full of wine, which slaves are busily putting into amphorse; a child making an ape dance; a painter copying a Hermes of Bacchus; a pensive damsel probably about to dispatch a secret message by the buxom ser- vant-maid waiting there for it; a vendor of Cupids opening his cage full of little winged gods, who, as they escape, tease a sad and pensive woman standing near, in a thousand ways, — how many different sub- jects ! But I have said nothing yet. The Pompeians especially excelled in fancy pictures. Everybody has 16 182 THE WONDEKS OF POMPEII. seen those swarms of little genii that, fluttering down upon the walls of their houses, wove crowns or gar- lands, angled with the rod and line, chased birds, sawed planks, planed tables, raced in chariots, or danced on the tight-rope, holding up thyrses for bal ancing poles ; one bent over, another kneeling, a third making a jet of wine spirt forth from a horn into a vase, a fourth playing on the lyre, and a fifth on the double flute, without leaving the tight-rope that bends beneath their nimble feet. But more beautiful than these divine rope-dancers were the female dancers, who floated about, perfect prodigies of self-possession and buoyancy, rising of themselves from the ground and sustained without an effort in the voluptuous air that cradled them. You may see these all at the mu- seum in Naples, — the nymph w^ho clashes the cymbals, and one who drums the tambourine; another w T ho holds aloft a branch of cedar and a golden sceptre ; one who is handing a plate of figs; and her, too who has a basket on her head and a thyrsis in her hand. Another in dancing uncovers her neck and her shoulders, and a third, with her head thrown back, and her eyes uplifted to heaven, inflates her ABT IN POMPEII. 183 veil as though to fly away. Here is one dropping bunches of flowers in a fold of her robe, and there another who holds a golden plate in this hand, while with that she covers her brows with an undulating pallium, like a bird putting its head under its wing. There are some almost nude, and some that drape themselves in tissues quite transparent and woven of the air. Some again wrap themselves in thick man- tles which cover them completely, but which are about to fall ; two of them holding each other by the hand are going to float upward together. As many dancing nymphs as there are, so many are the different dances, attitudes, movements, undulations, characteristics, and dissimilar ways of removing and putting on veils; infinite variations, in fine, upon two notes that vibrate with voluptuous luxuriance, and in a thousand ways. Let us continue : We are sweeping into the full tide of mythology. All the ancient divinities will pass before us, — now isolated (like the fine, nay, truly imposing Ceres in the house of Castor and Pollux), now grouped in well-known scenes, some of which 184 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. often recur on the Pompeian walls. Thus, tlie educa tion of Bacchus, his relations with Silenus; the roman tic story of Ariadne ; the loves of Jupiter, Apollo, and Daphne; Mars and Venus; Adonis dying; Zephyr and Flora; but, above all, the heroes of renown, Theseus and Andromeda, Meleager, Jason, heads of Hercules; his twelve labors, his combat with the ÎSTemsean lion, his weaknesses, — such are the episodes most in favor with the decorative artists of the little city. Sometimes they take their sub- jects from the poems of Yirgil, but oftener from those of Homer. I might cite a whole house, viz., that of the Poet, also styled the Homeric House, the interior court of which was a complete Iliad illus- trated. There you could see the parting of Aga- memnon and Chryseis, and also that of Briseis and Achilles, who, seated on a throne, with a look of angry resignation, is requesting the young girl to return to Agamemnon — a fine picture, of deserved celebrity. There, too, was beheld the lovely Yenus which Gell has not hesitated to compare, as to form, with the Medicean statue, or for color, to Titian's painting. It will be remembered that she plays a conspicuous part Exedra of the House of Siricus. ART IN POMPEII. 185 in the poem. A little further on we see Jupiter and Juno meeting on Mount Ida. "At length" says Nicolini, in his sumptuous work on Pompeii, "in the natural sequence of these episodes, appears Thetis reclining on the Triton, and holding forth to her afflicted son the arms that Vulcan had forged for him in her presence. " It was in the peristyle of this house that the copy of the famous picture by Timanthius of the sacrifice of Iphigenia was found. " Having represented her stand- ing near the altar on which she is to perish, the art- ist depicts profound grief on the faces of those who are present, especially of Menelaus; then, having exhausted all the the symbols of sorrow, he veils the father's countenance, finding it impossible to give a befitting expression. " This was, according to Pliny, the work of Timanthus, and such is exactly the reproduction of it as it was found in the house of the poet at Pompeii. This Iphigenia and the Medea in the house of Castor and Pollux, recalling the masterpiece of Tim- omachos the Byzantine are the only two Pompeian pictures which reproduce well-known paintings ; 16* 186 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. but let us not, for that reason, conclude that the others are original. The painters of the little city were neither creators nor copyists, but very free imitators, varying familiar subjects to suit themselves. Hence, that variety which surprises us in their repro- ductions of the same subject. Indeed, I have seen, at least ten Ariadnes surprised by Bacchus, and there are no two alike. Hence, also, that ease and freedom of touch indicating that the decorative artists executing them felt quite at their ease. Assuredly, their efforts, which are of quite unequal merit, are not models of correctness by any means; faults of drawing and pro- portion, traits of awkardness and heedlessness, swarm in them ; but let anybody pick out a sub-prefecture of 30,000 inhabitants, in France, and say to the painters of the district: "Here, my good friends, just go to work and tear off those sheets of colored paper that you find pasted upon the walls of rooms and saloons in every direction, and paint there in place of them socles and friezes, devotional images, genre pictures, and historical pieces summing up the ideas, creeds, manners and tastes, of our time in such sort that were the Pyrenees, the Cevennes, or the Jura Alps, to crum- ART m POMPEII. 187 ble upon you to-morrow, future generations, on dig- ging up your houses and your masterpieces, might there study the life of our period although it will be anti- quity for them. "... What would the painters of the place be apt to do or say ? I think I may reply, with all respect to them, that they would at least be greatly embarrassed. But, on their part, the Pompeians were not a whit put out when they came to repaint their whole city afresh. Would you like to get an accurate idea of their real merit and their indisputable value ? If so, ask some one to conduct you through the houses that have been lately exhumed, and look at the paintings still left in their places as they appear with all the brilliance that Vesuvius has preserved in them, and which the sunlight will soon impair. In the saloon of the house of Proculus notice two pieces that corres- pond, namely, Narcissus and the Triumph of Bac- chus — powerless languor and victorious activity. The intended meaning is clearly apparent, and is simply and vividly rendered. The ancients never required commentators to make them understood. You com- prehend their idea and their subject at first glance. 188 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. The most ignorant of men and the least versed in Pagan lore, take their meaning with half a look and give their works a title. In them we find no beating about the bush, no circumlocution, no hidden mean- ings, no confusion; the painter expresses what he means, does it quickly and does it well, without exag- gerating his terms or overloading the scene. His principal personages stand out boldly, yet the accesso- ries do not cry aloud, " Look at me ! " The picture of Narcissus represents Narcissus first and foremost; then it brings in a solitude and a streamlet. The coloring has a brilliance and harmoniousness of tint that surprises us, but there are no useless effects in it. In nearly all these frescoes (excepting the wedding of Zephyrus and Flora) the light spreads over it, white and equable (no one says cold and monotonous), for its office is not merely to illuminate the picture, but to throw sufficient glow and warmth upon the wall. The low and narrow rooms having, instead of windows, only a door opening on the court, had need of this painted daylight which skilful pencils wrought for them. And what movement there was in all «m^^ - 'i^m Exedra of the House of Siricus (See p. 195). ART m POMPEII. 189 those figures, what suppleness and what truth to nature ! * Nothing is distorted, nothing attitudinizes. Ari- adne is really asleep, and Hercules, in wine, really sinks to the ground ; the dancing girl floats in the air as though in her native element ; the centaur gallops without an effort; it is simple reality — the very re- verse of realism — natuie such as she actually is when she is pleasant to behold, in the full effusion of her grace, advancing like a queen because she is a queen, and because she could not move in any other fashion. In a word, these second-rato painters, poor daubers of walls as they were, had, in the absence of scientific skill and correctness, the flash of latent genius in obscurity, the instinct of art, spontaneousness, freedom of touch, and vivid life. Such were the walls of Pompeii. Let us now glance at the pavements. They will astonish us much more. At the outset the pavements were quite plain. * u And how the ancients, even the most unskilful, understood the right treatment of nude subjects ! " said an eminent critic to me, one day, as he was with me admiring these pictures; "and," he added, ' ' we know nothing more about it now ; our statues are not nude, but undressed." 190 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. There was a cement formed of a kind of mortar ; tins was then thoroughly dusted with pulverized brick, and the whole converted into a composition, which, when it had hardened, was like red granite. Many rooms and courts at Pompeii are paved with this com- position which was called opus siyninum. Then, in this crust, they at first ranged small cubes of marble, of glass, of calcareous stone, of colored enamel, form- ing squares or stripes, then others complicating the lines or varying the colors, and others again tracing regular designs, meandering lines, and arabesques, until the divided pebbles at length completely cov- ered the reddish basis, and thus they finally became mosaics, those carpetings of stone which soon rose to the importance and value of great works of art. The house of the Faun at Pompeii, which is the most richly paved of all, was a museum of mosaics. There was one before the door, upon the sidewalk, in- scribed with the ancient salutation, Salve! Another, at the end of the prothyrum, artistically represented masks. Others again, in the wings of the atrium, made up a little menagerie, — a brace of ducks, dead birds, shell-work, fish, doves taking pearls from a casket, ART IN POMPEII. 191 and a cat devouring a quail — a perfect master- piece of living movement and precision. Pliny men- tions a house, the flooring of which represented the ■ fragments of a meal : it was called the ill-swept house. But let us not quit the house of the Faun, where the mosaic-workers had, besides what we have told, wrought on the pavement of the oecus a superb lion foreshortened — much worn away, indeed, but marvel- lous for vigor and boldness. In the triclinium another mosaic represented Acratus, the Bacchic genius, astride of a panther; lastly the piece in the exssdra, the finest that exists, is counted among the most precious specimens of ancient art. It is the famous battle of Arbelles or of Issus. A squadron of Greeks, already victorious, is rushing upon the Persians ; Alex- ander is galloping at the head of his cavalry. He has lost his helmet in the heat of the charge, his horses' manes stand erect, and his long spear has pierced the leader of the enemy. The Persians, overthrown and routed, are turning to flee ; those who immediately surround Darius, the vanquished king, think of noth- ing but their own safety ; but Darius is totally forget- ful of himself. His hand extended toward his dying 192 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. general, he turns his back to the flying rabble and seems to invite death. The whole scene — the head- long rush of the one army, the utter confusion of the other, the chariot of the King wheeling to the front, the rage, the terror, the pity expressed, and all this profoundly felt and clearly rendered — strikes the beholder at first glance and engraves itself upon his memory, leaving there the imperishable impression that masterpieces in art can alone produce. And yet this wonderful work was but the flooring of a saloon ! The ancients put their feet where we put our hands, says an Englishman who utters btit the simple truth. The finest tables in the palaces at Naples were cut from the pavements in the houses at Pompeii. It was in the same dwelling that the celebrated bronze statuette of the Dancing Faun was found. It has its head and arms uplifted, its shoulders thrown back, its breast projecting, every muscle in motion, the whole body dancing. An accompanying piece, however, was lacking to this little deity so full of spring and vigor, and that piece has been exhumed by recent excavations, in quite an humble tenement. It represents a delicate youth, full of nonchalance and ART IN POMPEII. 193 grace, a Narcissus hearkening to the musical echo in the distance. His head leans over, his ear is stretched to listen, his finger is turned in the direction whence he hears the sound — his whole body listens. Placed near each other in the museum, these two bronzes would make Pagans of us were religion but an affair of art.* Then the mere wine-merchants of a little ancient city adorned their fountains with treasures like these ! Others have been found, less precious, perhaps, but charming, nevertheless; the fisherman in sitting pos- ture at the small mosaic fountain; the group repre- senting Hercules holding a stag bent over his knee : a diminutive Apollo leaning, lyre in hand, against a pillar; an aged Silenus carrying a goat-skin of wine ; a pretty Yenus arranging her moistened tresses ; a hunting Diana, etc. ; without counting the Hermes and the double busts, one among the rest comprising the two heads of a male and female Faun full of intemperance and coarse gayety. 5 Tis true that everything is not perfect in these sculptures, par- * Recently, Signor Fiorelli has found another bronze statuette of a bent and crooked Silenus worth both the others. 17 194 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. ticularly in the marbles. The statues of Livia, of Drusus, and of Eumachia, are but moderately good ; those discovered in the temples, such as Isis, Bacchus, Venus, etc., have not come down from the Parthenon. jThe decline of taste makes itself apparent in the latest ornamentation of the tombs and edifices, and the decorative work of the houses, the marble em- bellishments; and, above all, those executed in stucco become overladen and tawdry, heavy and labored, toward the last. Nevertheless, they reveal, if not a great aesthetic feeling, at least that yearning for elegance which entered so profoundly into the man- ners of the ancients. With us, in fine, art is never anything but a superfluity— -something unfamiliar and foreign that comes in to us from the outside when we are wealthy. Our paintings and our sculptures do not make part and parcel of our houses. If we have a Yenus of Milo on our mantel- clock, it is not because we worship beauty, nor that, to our view, there is the slightest connection between the mother of the Graces and the hour of the day. Venus finds herself very much out of her ART IN POMPEII. 195 element there; she is in exile, evidently. On the other hand, at Pompeii she is at home, as Saint Genevieve once was at Paris, as Saint Januarius still is at Naples. She was the venerated patroness whose protection they invoked, whose anger they feared. "May the wrath of the angry Pompeian Venus fall upon him!' 5 was their form of impre- cation. All these well-known stories of gods and demigods who throned it on the walls, were the fairy tales, the holy legends, the thousand-times- repeated narratives that delighted the Pompeians. They had no need of explanatory programmes when they entered their domestic museums. To find some- thing resembling this state of things, we should have to go into our country districts where there still reigns a divinity of other days — Glory — and ad- miringly observe with what religious devotion coarse lithographs of the "Old Flag," and of the "Little Corporal," are there retained and cherished. There, and there only, our modern art has infused itself into the life and manners of the people. Is it equal to ancient art? 196 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. If, from painting and sculpture, we descend to in- ferior branches, — if, as we tried to do in the house of Pansa, we despoil the museum so as to restore their inmates to the homes of Pompeii, and put back in its place the fine candelabra with the carved panther bearing away the infant Bacchus at full speed; the precious scyplms, in which two centaurs take a bevy of little Cupids on their cruppers; that other vase on which Pallas is standing erect in a car, leaning on her spear ; the silver saucepan, — there were such in those days, — the handle of which is secured by two birds' heads ; the simple pair of scales — they carved scales then! — where one sees the half bust of a warrior wearing a splendid helmet; in fine, the humblest articles, utensils of lowest use, nay, even simple earth- enware covered with graceful ornaments, sometimes exquisitely worked ; — were we to go to the museum at Naples and ask what the ancients used instead of the hideous boxes in which we shut up our dead, and there behold this beautiful urn which looks as though it were incrusted with ivory, and which has upon it in bas-relief carved masks enveloped in complicated ART IN POMPEII. 197 vine-tendrils twisted, laden with clusters of grapes, intermingled witli other foliage, tangled all up in rol- licking arabesques, forming rosettes, in the midst of which birds are seen perching, and leaving but two spaces open where children dear to Bacchus are pluck- ing grapes or treading them under foot, trilling stringed lyres, blowing on double flutes or tumbling about and snapping their fingers — the urn itself in blue glass and the reliefs in white — for the ancients knew how to carve glass, — ah ! undoubtedly, in sur- veying all these marvels, we should be forced to con- cede that the citizen in old times was at least, as much of an artist as lie is to-day. This was because in those times no barrier w T as erected between the citizen and the artist. There were no two opposing camps — on one side the Philistines, and on the other the people of God. There was no line of distinction between the needful and the superfluous, between the positive and the ideal. Art was daily bread, and not holiday pound-cake ; it made its way everywhere ; it illuminated, it gladdened, it perfumed everything. It did not stand either outside of or above ordinary life ; it was the soul and the delight of life ; in a word, 17* 198 tiii: vïondeês of pompeit. it penetrated it, and was penetrated by it, — it lived ! This is what these modest ruins teach.* * A badly interpreted inscription on the gate of Nola had led, for a moment, to the belief that the importation of this singular wor- ship dated back to the early days of the little city ; but we now know that it was introduced by Sylla into the Roman world. Isis was Nature, the patroness of the Pompeians, who venerated her equally in their physical Yenus. This form of religion, mysterious, symbolical, full of secrets hidden from the people, as it was ; these goddesses with heads of dogs, wolves, oxen, hawks; the god Onion, the god Garlic, the god Leek; all that Apuleius tells about it, be- sides the data furnished by the Pompeian excavations, the recov- ered bottle-brushes, the basins, the knives, the tripods, the cym- bals, the citherse, etc., — were worth the trouble of examination and study. Upon the door of the temple, a strange inscription announced that Numerius Popidius, the son of Numerius, had, at his own ex- pense, rebuilt the temple of Isis, thrown down by an earthquake, and that, in reward for his liberality, the clecurions had admitted him gratuitously to their college at the age of six years. The an- tiquaries, or some of them, at least, finding this age improbable, have read it sixty instead of six, forgetting that there then existed two kinds of decurions, the omamentarii and prœtextati — the hon- orary and the active officials. The former might be associated with the Pompeian Senate in recompense for services rendered by their fathers. An inscription found at Misenum confirms this fact. (See the Memorie del VAcademia Ercolanese, anno 1833) — The minutes of the Herculaneum Academy, for the year 1833. VIII. THE THEATRES. The Arrangement of the Places of Amusement. — Entrance Tickets. — Thb Velarium, the Orchestra, the Stage. — The Odeon. — The Holconii. — The Side Scenes, the Masks. — The Atellan Farces. — The Mimes. — Jug- glers, etc. — A Remark of Cicero on the Melodramas. — The Barrack of the Gladiators. — Scratched Inscriptions, Instruments of Torture. — The Pompeian Gladiators. — The Amphitheatre : Hunts, Combats, Butcheries, etc. We are now going to rest ourselves at the theatre. Pompeii had two such places of amusement, one tragic and the other comic, or, rather, one large and one smaller, for that is the only positive difference existing between them ; all else on that point is pure hypothesis. Let us, then, say the large and small theatre, and we shall be sure to make no mistakes. The grand saloon or body of the large theatre formed a semicircle, built against an embankment so that the tiers of seats ascended from the pit to the topmost gallery, without resting on massive (199) 200 THE WONDEKS OF POMPEII. substructures. In this respect it was of Greek con- struction. The four upper tiers resting upon an arched corridor, in the Roman style, alone reached The height on which stood the triangular Forum and the Greek temple. Thus, you can step directly from the level of the street to the highest galleries, from which your gaze, ranging above the stage, can sweep the country and the sea, and at the same moment plunge far below you into that sort of regularly-shaped ravine in which once sat five thou- sand Pompeians eager for the show. At first glance, you discover three main divisions ; these are the different ranks of tiers, the caveœ. There are three cavese — the lowermost, the mid- dle, and the upper ones. The lowermost was consid- ered the most select. It comprised only the four first rows of benches, or seats, which were broader and not so high as the others. These were the places reserved for magistrates and other eminent persons. Thither they had their seats carried and also the bisellia, or benches for two persons, on which they alone had the right to sit. A low wall, rising behind the fourth range and surmounted with THE THEATRES. 201 a marble rail that has now disappeared, separated this lowermost cavea from the rest. The duumviri, the decurions, the augustales, the sediles, Holconius, Cornelius Pufus, and Pansa, if he was elected, sat there majestically apart from common mortals. The middle division was for quiet, every»day, private citi- zens, like ourselves. Separated into wedge-like corners (cuneî) by six flights of steps cutting it in as many places, it comprised a limited number of seats marked by slight lines, still visible. A ticket of admission (a tessera or domino) of bone, earthenware, or bronze — a sort of counter cut in almond or en pigeon shape, sometimes too in the form of a ring — indicated exactly the cavea, the corner, the tier, and the seat for the person holding it. Tessarse of this kind have been found on which were Greek and Roman characters (a proof that the Greek would not have been understood without translation). Upon one of them is inscribed the name of ^Eschylus, in the gen- itive ; and hence it has been inferred that his " Pro- metheus" or his "Persians" must have been played on the Pompeian stage, unless, indeed, this genitive designated one of the wedge-divisions marked out 202 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. by the name or the statue of the tragic poet. Others have mentioned one of these counters that announced the representation of a piece by Plautus, — ■ the Cas- ino, ; but I can assure you that the relic is a forgery, if, indeed, such a one ever existed. You should, then, before entering, provide yourself with a real tessera, which you may purchase for very little money. Plautus asked that folks should pay an as apiece. " Let those, " he said, " who have not got it retire to their homes." The price of the seats was proclaimed aloud by a crier, who also received the money, unless the show was gratuitously offered to the populace by some magistrate who wished to retain public favor, or some candidate anxious to procure it. You handed in your ticket to a sort of usher, called the designator, or the locarius, who pointed out your seat to you, and, if required, conducted you thither. Y r ou could then take your place in the middle tier, at the top of which was the statue of Marcus Holconius Ruf us, duumvir, military tribune, and patron of the colony. This statue had been set up there by order of the decurions. The holes hollowed in the pedestal TKE THEATRES. 203 by the nails that secured the marble feet of the statue are still visible. Finally, at the summit of the half-moon was the uppermost cavea, assigned to the common herd and the women. So, after all, we are somewhat ahead of the Romans in gallantry. Railings separated this tier from the one we sit in, so as to prevent " the low rabble n from invading the seats occupied by us re- spectable men of substance. Upon the wall of the people's gallery is still seen the ring that held tha pole of the velarium. This velarium was an awning that was stretched above the heads of the spectators to pro- tect them from the sun. In earlier times the Romans had scouted at this innovation, which they called a piece of Campanian effeminacy. But little by little, increasing luxury reduced the Puritans of Rome to silence, and they willingly accepted a velarium of silk — an homage of Csesar. iSTero, who carried every- thing to excess, went further : he caused a velarium of purple to be embroidered with gold. Caligula fre- quently amused himself by suddenly withdrawing this movable shelter and leaving the naked heads of the spectators exposed to the beating rays of the sun. 204 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. But it seems that at Pompeii the wind frequently pre- vented the hoisting of the canvas, and so the poet Martial tells us that he will keep on his hat. Such was the arrangement of the main body of the house. Let us now descend to the orchestra, which, in the Greek theatres, was set apart for the dancing of the choirs, but in the Roman theatres, was reserved for the great dignitaries, and at Home itself for the prince, the vestals, and the senators. I have somewhere read that, in the great city, the foreign ambassadors w r ere excluded from these places of honor because among them could be found the sons of freedmen. Would you like to go up on the stage ? Raised about five feet above the orchestra, it was broader than ours, but not so deep. The personages of the antique repertory did not swell to such numbers as in our fairy spectacles. Far from it. The stage extended between a proscenium or front, stretching out upon the orchestra by means of a wooden platform, which has disappeared, and the postsce?iium or side scenes. There w r as, also, a hyjoosceniwn or subterranean part of the theatre, for the scene-shifters and machinists. The curtain or siparium (a Roman invention) did not THE THEATRES. 205 rise to the ceiling as with, us, but, on the contrary, descended so as to disclose the stage, and rolled together underground, by means of ingenious pro- cesses which Mazois has explained to us. Thus, the curtain fell at the beginning and rose at the end of the piece. You are aware that in ancient drama the question of scenery was greatly simplified by the rule of the unity of place. The stage arrangement, for instance, represented the palace of a prince. Therefore, there was no canvas painted at the back of the stage; it was built up. This decoration, styled the scena stdbilis, rose as high as the loftiest tier in the theatre, and was of stone and marble in the Pompeian edifice. It represented a magnificent wall pierced for three doors ; in the centre was the royal door, where princes entered; on the right, the entrance of the household and females ; at the left, the entrance for guests and strangers. These were matters to be fixed in the mind of the spectator. Between these doors were rounded and square niches for statues. In the side- scenes, was the moveable decoration {scena d-uctilis), which was slid in front of the back-piece in case of 18 206 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. a change of scene, as, for instance, when playing the Ajax of Sophocles, where the place of action is trans- ferrred from the Greek camp to the shores of the Hellespont. Then, there were other side-scenes not of much account, owing to lack of room, and on each wing a turning piece with three broad flats represent- ing three different subjects. There were square niches in the walls of the proscenium either for statues or for policemen to keep an eye on the spectators. Such, stated in a few lines and in libretto style, was the stage in ancient times. I confess that I have a preference for the smaller theatre which has been called the Odeon. Is that because, possibly, tragedies were never played there? Is it because this establishment seems more complete and in better preservation, thanks to the intelligent replacements of La Yega, the architect? It was covered, as two inscriptions found there explicitly declare, with a wooden roof, probably, the walls not being strong enough to sustain an arch. It was reached through a passage all bordered with inscrip- tions, traced on the Avails by the populace waiting to secure admission as they passed slowly in, one after THE THEATKES. 207 the other. A lengthy file of gladiators had carved their names also upon the walls, along with an enumer- ation of their victories; barbarian slaves, and some f reedmen, likewise, had left their marks. These prob- ably constituted the audience that occupied the upper- most seats approached by the higher vomitories. On the other hand, there were no lateral vomitories. The spectators entered the orchestra directly by large doors, and thence ascended to the four tiers of the lower {caved) which curved like hooks at their extremities, and were separated from the middle cavea by a para- pet of marble terminating in vigorously-carved lion's paws. Among these carvings we may particularly note a crouching Atlas, of short, thick-set form, sustain- ing on his shoulders and his arms, which are doubled behind him, a marble slab which was once the stand of a vase or candlestick. This athletic effort is violently rendered by the artist. Above the orchestra ran the tribunalia, reminding us of our modern stage-boxes. These were the places reserved at Rome for the vestal virgins ; at Pompeii, they were very probably those of the public priestesses — of Eumachia, whose statue we have already seen, or of Mamia whose tomb we have 208 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. inspected. The seats of the three cavea were of blocks of lava ; and there can still be seen in them the hollows in which the occupants placed their feet so as not to soil the spectators below them. Let ns remember that the Roman mantles were of white wool, and that the sandals of the ancients got muddied just as onr shoes do. The citizens who occupied the central cavea brought their cushions with them or folded their spotless togas on Ûie seats before they took their places. It was necessary, then, to protect them from the mud and the dust in which the spectators occupying the upper tiers had been walking. The number of ranges of seats was seventeen, divided into wedges by six flights of steps, and in stalls by lines yet visible upon the stone. The upper tiers were approached by vomitories and by a subterranean corridor. The orchestra formed an arc the chord of which was indicated by a marble strip with this inscrip- tion : "M. Olconius M. F. Vervs, Pro Ludis." This Olconius or Ilolconius was the Marquis of Carabas of Pompeii. His name may be read every- where in the streets, on the monuments, and on the THE THEATBES. 209 walls of the houses. We have seen already that the fruiterers wanted him for sedile. We have pointed out the position of his statue in the theatre. We know by inscriptions that he was not the only illustri- ous member of his family. There were also a Marcus Holconius Celer, a Marcus Holconius Rufus, etc. Were this petty municipal aristocracy worth the trouble of hunting up, we could easily find it on the electoral programmes by collecting the names usually affixed thereon. But Holconius is the one most con- spicuous of them all ; so, hats off to Holconius ! I return to the theatre. Two large side windows illuminated the stage, which, being covered, had need of light. The back scene was not carved, but painted and pierced for five doors instead of three ; those at the ends, which w^ere masked by movable side scenes served, perhaps, as entrances to the lobbies of the priestesses. Would you like to go behind the scenes ? Passing by the barracks of the gladiators, we enter an apart- ment adorned with columns, which was, very likely, the common hall and dressing-room of the actors. A celebrated mosaic in the house of the poet (or jew- 18* 210 THE WONDEKS OF POMPEII. eller), shows us a scenic representation : in it we observe the clioragus, surrounded by masks and other accessories (the choragus was the manager and direc- tor) ; he is making two actors, got up as satyrs, rehearse their parts ; behind them, another comedian, assisted by a costumer of some kind, is trying to put on a yellow garment which is too small for him. Thus we can re-people the antechamber of the stage. We see already those comic masks that were the principal resource in the wardrobe of the ancient players. Some of them were typical ; for instance, that of the young virgin, with her hair parted on her forehead and carefully combed; that of the slave-driver (or hegemonus), recognized by his raised eyelids, his wrinkled brows and his twists of hair done up in a wig; that of the wizard, with immense eyes starting from their sockets, seamed skin covered with pimples, with enormous ears, and short hair frizzed in snaky ringlets ; that of the bearded, furious, staring, and sin- ister old man ; and above all, those of the Atellan low comedians, who, born in Campania, dwell there still, and must assuredly have amused the little city through which we are passing. Atella, the country of Mac- THE THEATRES. 211 eus was only some seven or eight leagues distant from Pompeii, and numerous interests and business con- nections united the inhabitants of the two places. I have frequently stated that the Oscan language, in which the Atellan farces were written, had once been the only tongue, and had continued to be the popular dialect of the Pompeians. The Latin gradually inter- mingled with these pieces, and the confusion of the two idioms was an exhaustless source of witticisms, puns, and bulls of all kinds, that must have afforded Homeric laughter to the plebeians of Pompeii. The longshoremen of Naples, in our day, seek exactly similar effects in the admixture of pure Italian and the local patois. The titles of some of the Atellian farces are still extant: "Pappus, the Doctor Shown Out," "Maccus Married," "Maccus as Safe Keeper," etc. These are nearly the same subjects that are still treated every day on the boards at Naples ; the same rough daubs, half improvised on the spur of the mo- ment; the same frankly coarse and indecent gayety. The Odeon where we are now, was the Pompeian San Carlino. Bucco, the stupid and mocking buffoon ; the dotard Pappus, who reminds us of the Venetian 212 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. Pantaloon; Mandacus, who is the Neapolitan Guappo; the Oscan Casnar, a first edition of Cassandra ; and finally, Maccus, the king of the company, the Punch- inello who still survives and flourishes, — such were the ancient mimes, and such, too, are their modern suc- cessors. All these must have appeared in their turn on the small stage of the Odeon ; and the slaves, the freedmen crowded together in the npper tiers, the citizens ranged in the middle cavea or family-circle, the duumvirs, the decurions, the angustals, the sediles seated majestically on the bisellia of the orchestra, even the priestesses of the proscenium and the melan- choly Eumachia, whose statue confesses, I know not what anguish of the heart, — all these must have roared with laughter at the rude and extravagant sallies of their low comedians, who, notwithstanding the parts they played, were more highly appreciated than the rest and had the exclusive privilege of wearing the title of Roman citizens. Now, if these trivialities revolt your fastidious taste, you can picture to yourself the representation of some comedy of Plautus in the Odeon of Pompeii ; that is, admitting, to begin with, that you can find a comedy THE THEATRES. 213 by that author which in no wise shocks our susceptibili- ties. You can also fill the stage with mimes and pan- tomimists, for the favor accorded to that class of actors under the emperors is well known. The Csesars — 1 am speaking of the Romans — somewhat feared spoken comedy, attributing political proclivities to it, as they did ; and, hence, they encouraged to their utmost that mute comedy which, at the same time, in the Imperial Babel, had the advantage of being understood by all the conquered nations. In the provinces, this su- preme art of gesticulation, "these talking fingers, these loquacious hands, this voluble silence, this unspoken explanation," as was once choicely said, were service- able in advancing the great work of Roman unity. " The substitution of ballet pantomimes for comedy and tragedy resulted in causing the old masterpieces to be neglected, thereby enfeebling the practice of the national idioms and seconding the propagation, if not of the lano-uaw, at least of the customs and ideas of the Romans." (Charles Magnin.) If the mimes do not suffice, call into the Odeon the rope-dancers, the acrobats, the jugglers, the ventrilo- quists, — for all these lower orders of public performers 214 WONDERS OF POMPEII. existed among the ancients and swarmed in the Pom- peian pictures, — or the flute-players enlivening the waits with their melody and accompanying the voice of the actors at moments of dramatic climax. " How can he feel afraid/' asked Cicero, in this connection, " since he recites such fine verses while he accompanies himself on the flute ? " "What would the great orator have said had he been present at our melodramas ? We may then imagine what kind of play we please on the little Pompeian stage. For my part, I prefer the Atellan farces. They were the buffooneries of the locality, the coarse pleasantry of native growth, the hilarity of the vineyard and the grain-field, exuberant fancy, grotesque in solemn earnest ; in a word, ideal sport and frolic without the least regard to reality — in fine, Punchinello's comedy. "We prefer Molière ; but how many things there are in Molière which come in a direct line from Maccus ! It is time to leave the theatre. I have said that the Odeon opened into the gladiators' barracks. These barracks form a spacious court — a sort of cloister — surrounded by seventy-four pillars, unfortunately spoiled by the Pompeians of the restoration period. THE THEATRES. 215 They topped them with new capitals of stucco no- toriously ill adapted to them. This gallery w T as sur- rounded with curious dwellings, among which was a prison where three skeletons were found, with their legs fastened in irons of ingeniously cruel device. The instrument in question may be seen at the mu- seum. It looks like a prostrate ladder, in which the limbs of the prisoners were secured tightly between short and narrow rungs — four bars of iron. These poor wretches had to remain in a sitting or reclining posture, and perished thus, without the power to rise or turn over, on the day when Vesuvius swallowed up the city. It was for a long time thought that these barracks were the quarters of the soldiery, because arms were found there ; but the latter were too highly orna- mented to belong to practical fighting troops, and were the very indications that suggested to Father Garrucci the firmly established idea, that the dwellings sur- rounding the gallery must have been occupied by gladiators. These habitations consist of some sixty cells : now there were sixty gladiators in Pompeii, 216 WONDEJJS OF POMPEII. because an album programme announced thirty pair of them to fight in the amphitheatre. The pillars of the gallery were covered with inscrip- tions scratched on their surface. Many of these graphites formed simple Greek names Pompaios, Arpokrates, Celsa, etc., or Latin names, or fragments of sentences, curate pecunias,fur es Torque, Rustico féliciter! etc. Others proved clearly that the place was inhabited by gladiators : inludus Velius (that is to say not in the game, out of the ring) his victor lïbertus — — leonibus, victor Veneri parmam fer et. Other inscrip- tions designate families or troops of gladiators, of which there are a couple familiar to us already, that of N". Festus Ampliatus and that of N". Popidius Eufus ; and a third, with which we are not acquainted, namely, that of Pomponius Faustinus. "What has not been written concerning the gla- diators? The origin of their bloody sports; the immolations, voluntary at first, and soon afterward compulsory, that did honor to the ashes of the dead warriors; then the combats around the funeral pyres; then, ere long, the introduction of these funeral spectacles as part of the public festivals, especially THE THEATRES. 217 in the triumphal parades of victorious generals ; then into private pageants, and then into the ban- quets of tyrants who caused the heads of the pro- scribed to be brought to them at table. The skill of such and such an artist in decapitation (decollandi artifex) was the subject of remark and compliment. Ah, those were the grand ages ! As the reader also knows, the gladiators were at first prisoners of war, barbarians; then, prisoners not coming in sufficient number, condemned culprits and slaves were employed, ere long, in hosts so strong as, to revolt in Campania at the summons of Spartacus. Consular armies w^ere vanquished and the Roman prisoners, transformed to gladiators, in their turn were compelled to butcher each other around the funeral pyres of their chiefs. However, these combats had gradually ceased to be penalties and punishments, and soon were nothing but bar barous spectacles, violent pantomimic performances, like those which England and Spain have not yet been able to suppress. The troops of mercenary fighters slaughtered each other in the arenas to amuse the Romans (not to render them warlike). 19 218 THE WONDEES OF POMPEII. Citizens took part in these tournaments, and among them even nobles, emperors, and women; and, at last, the Samnites, Gauls, and Thracians, who de- scended into the arena, were only Romans in disguise. These shows became more and more varied; they were diversified with hunts (venationes), in which wild beasts fought with each other or against hes- tiarii y or Christians ; the amphitheatres, transformed to lakes, offered to the gaze of the delighted spec- tator real naval battles, and ten thousand gladiators were let loose against each other by the imperial caprice of Trajan. These entertainments lasted one hundred and twenty-three days. Imagine the carnage ! Part of the gladiators of Pompeii were Greeks, and part were real barbarians. The traces that they have left in the little city show that they got along quite merrily there. 5 Tis true that they could not live, as they did at Pome, in close in- timacy with emperors and empresses, but they were, none the less, the spoiled pets of the residents of Pompeii. Lodged in a sumptuous barrack, they must have been objects of envy to many of the THE THEATRES. 231 slave harpooned them with a hook, and dragged them through the mire of sand and blood to the narrow cor- ridor, the porta libitinensis, — the portal of death, — whence they were flung into the spoliarium, so that their arms and clothing, at least, might be saved. Such were the games of the amphitheatre. IX. THE ERUPTION". The Deluge of Ashes. — The Deluge of Fire. — The Flight of the Pompeians. — The Preoccupations of the Pompeian Women. — The Victims : the Fam- ily of Diomed; the Sentinel ; the Woman Walled up in a Tomb ; the Priest of Isis ; the Lovers clinging together, etc. — The Skeletons. — The Dead Bodies moulded by Vesuvius. It was during one of these festivals, on the 23d of November, 79, that the terrible eruption which over- whelmed the city burst forth. The testimony of the ancients, the ruins of Pompeii, the layers upon layers of ashes and scoriae that covered it, the skeletons sur- prised in attitudes of agony or death, all concur to tell us of the catastrophe. The imagination can add noth- ing to it : the picture is there before our eyes ; we are present at the scene; we behold it. Seated in the amphitheatre, we take to flight at the first convulsions, at the first lurid flashes which announce the conflag- ration and the crumbling of the mountain. The ground is shaken repeatedly ; and something like a whirlwind (232) THE ERUPTION. 233 of dust, that grows thicker and thicker, has gone rushing and spinning across the heavens. For some days past there has been talk of gigantic forms, which, sometimes on the mountain and sometimes in the plain, swept through the air; they are up again now, and rear themselves to their whole height in the eddies of smoke, from amid which is heard a strange sound, a fearful moaning followed by claps of thunder that crash down, peal on peal. Night, too, has come on — a night of horror ; enormous flames kindle the dark- ness like the blaze of a furnace. People scream, out in the streets, " Vesuvius is on fire ! " On the instant, the Pompeians, terrified, bewil- dered, rush from the amphitheatre, happy in finding so many places of exit through which they can pour forth without crushing each other, and the open gates of the city only a short distance beyond. However, after the first explosion, after the deluge of ashes, comes the deluge of fire, or light stones, all ablaze, driven by the wind — one might call it a burning snow — descending slowly, inexorably, fatally, without cessation or intermission, with pitiless persistence. This solid flame blocks up the streets, piles itself in 20* 234 THE WONDERS OF POMPEn. heaps on tlie roofs and breaks through into the houses with the crashing tiles and the blazing rafters. The fire thus tumbles in from story to story, upon the pavement of the courts, where, accumulating like earth thrown in to fill a trench, it receives fresh fuel from the red and fiery flakes that slowly, fatally, keep showering down, falling, falling, without respite. The inhabitants flee in every direction; the strong, the youthful, those who care only for their lives, escape. The amphitheatre is emptied in the twinkling of an eye and none remain in it but the dead gladiators. But woe to those who have sought shelter in the shops, under the arcades of the theatre, or in underground retreats. The ashes surround and stifle them ! Woe, above all, to those whom avarice or cupidity hold back ; to the wife of Proculus, to the favorite of Sal- lust, to the daughters of the house of the Poet who have tarried to gather up their jewels! They will fall suffocated among these trinkets, which, scattered around them, will reveal their vanity and the last trivial cares that then beset them, to after ages. A woman in the atrium attached to the house of the Faun ran wildly as chance directed, laden with jew- THE ERUPTION. 235 elry ; unable any longer to get breath, she had sought refuge in the tablinum, and there strove in vain to hold up, with her outstretched arms, the ceiling crum- bling in upon her. She was crushed to death, and her head was missing when they found her. In the Street of the Tombs, a dense crowd must have jostled each other, some rushing in from the country to seek safety in the city, and others flying from the burning houses in quest of deliverance under the open sky. One of them fell foward with his feet turned toward the Herculaneum gate ; another on his back, with his arms uplifted. He bore in his hands one hundred and twenty-seven silver coins and sixty- nine pieces of gold. A third victim was also on his back ; and, singular fact, they all died looking toward Vesuvius ! A female holding a child in her arms had taken shelter in a tomb which the volcano shut tight upon her ; a soldier, faithful to duty, had remained erect at his post before the Herculaneum gate, one hand upon his mouth and the other on his spear. In this brave attitude he perished. The family of Diomed had assembled in his cellar, where seventeen victims, 236 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. women, children, and the young girl whose throat was found moulded in the ashes, were buried alive, clinging closely to each other, destroyed there by suffocation, or, perhaps, by hunger. Arrius Diomed had tried to escape alone, abandoning his house and taking with him only one slave, who carried his money-wallet. He fell, struck down by the stifling gases, in front of his own garden. How many other poor wretches there were whose last agonies have been disclosed to us ! — the priest of Isis, who, enveloped in flames and unable to escape into the blazing street, cut through two walls with his axe and yielded his last breath at the foot of the third, where he had fallen with fatigue or struck down by the deluge of ashes, but still clutching his weapon. And the poor dumb brutes, tied so that they could not break away, — the mule in the bakery, the horses in the tavern of Albinus, the goat of Siricus, which had crouched into the kitchen oven, where it was recently found, with its bell still attached to its neck ! And the prisoners in the blackhole of the gladiators' barracks, riveted to an iron rack that jammed their legs! And the two lovers surprised in a shop near the Thermœ ; both were young, and they were THE ERUPTION. 237 tightly clasped in each other's arms How awful a night and how fearful a morrow ! Day has come, but the darkness remains ; not that of a moon- less night, but that of a closed room without lamp or candle. At Misenum, where Pliny the younger, who has described the catastrophe, was stationed, nothing was heard but the voices of children, of men, and of women, calling to each other, seeking each other, recog- nizing each other by their cries alone, invoking death, bursting out in wails and screams of anguish, and be- lieving that it was the eternal night in which gods and men alike were rushing headlong to annihilation. Then there fell a shower of ashes so dense that, at the dis- tance of seven leagues from the volcano, one had to shake one's clothing continually, so as not to be suffo- cated. These ashes went, it is said, as far as Africa, or, at all events, to Rome, where they filled the atmosphere and hid the light of day, so that even the Romans said : " The world is overturned ; the sun is falling on the earth to bury itself in night, or the earth is rushing up to the sun to be consumed in his eternal fires." " At length," writes Pliny, "the light returned gradually,, and the star that sheds it reappeared, but pallid as in an 238 THE WOKDEES OF POMPEII. eclipse. The whole scene around us was trans- formed ; the ashes, like a heavy snow, covered every- thing. " This vast shroud was not lifted until in the last cen- tury, and the excavations have narrated the catastrophe with an eloquence which even Pliny himself, notwith- standing the resources of his style and the authority of his testimony, could not attain. The terrible exter- minator was caught, as it were, in the very act, amid the ruins he had made. These roofless houses, with the height of one story only remaining and leaving their walls open to the sun; these colonnades that no longer supported anything; these temples yawning wide on all sides, without pediment or portico; this silent loneliness ; this look of desolation, distress, and nakedness, which looked like ruins on the morrow of some great fire, — all were enough to wring one's heart. But there was still more: there were the skeletons found at every step in this voyage of discovery in the midst of the dead, betraying the anguish and the ter- ror of that last dreadful hour. Six hundred, — perhaps • more, — have already been found, each one illustrating THE ERUPTION. 239 some poignant episode of the immense catastrophe in which they were smitten down ! Recently, in a small street, under heaps of rubbish, the men working on the excavations perceived an empty space, at the bottom of which were some bones. They at once called Signor Fiorelli, who had a bright idea. He caused some plaster to be mixed, and poured it immediately into the hollow, and the same operation was renewed at other points where he thought he saw other similar bones. Afterward, the crust of pumice-stone and hardened ashes which had enveloped, as it were, in a scabbard, this something that they were trying to discover, was carefully lifted off. When these materials had been removed, there appeared four dead bodies. Any one can see them now, in the museum at Na- ples ; nothing could be more striking than the specta- cle. They are not statues, but corpses, moulded by Vesuvius ; the skeletons are still there, in those casings of plaster which reproduce what time would have destroyed, and what the damp ashes have preserved, — the clothing and the flesh, I might almost say the life. The bones peep through here and there, in certain 240 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. places which, the plaster did not reach. Nowhere else is there anything like this to be seen. The Egyptian mummies are naked, blackened, hideous; they no longer have anything in common with us; they are laid out for their eternal sleep in the consecrated attitude. But the exhumed Pompeians are human beings whom one sees in the agonies of death. One of these bodies is that of a woman near whom were picked up ninety-one pieces of coin, two silver urns, and some keys and jewels. She was endeavor- ing to escape, taking with her these precious articles, when she fell down in the narrow street. You still see her lying on her left side ; her head-dress can very readily be made out, as also can the texture of her clothing and two silver rings which she still has on her finger; one of her hands is broken, and you see the cellular structure of the bone ; her left arm is lifted and distorted; her delicate hand is so tightly clenched that you would say the nails penetrate the flesh ; her whole body appears swollen and contracted; the legs only, which are very slender, remain extended. One feels that she struggled a long time in horrible agony ; her whole attitude is that of anguish, not of death. THE ERUPTION. 241 Behind her had fallen a woman and a young girl ; the elder of the two, the mother, perhaps, was of hum- ble birth, to judge by the size of her ears ; on her fin- ger she had only an iron ring ; her left leg lifted and contorted, shows that she, too, suffered ; not so much, however, as the noble lady : the poor have less to lose in dying. Near her, as though upon the same bed, lies the young girl ; one at the head, and the other at the foot, and their legs are crossed. This young girl, almost a child, produces a strange impression; one sees exactly the tissue, the stitches of her clothing, the sleeves that covered her arms almost to the wrists, some rents here and there that show the naked flesh, and the embroidery of the little shoes in which she walked; but above all, you witness her last hour, as though you had been there, beneath the wrath of Yesuvius; she had thrown her dress over her head, like the daughter of Diomed, because she was afraid ; she had fallen in running, with her face to the ground, and not being able to rise again, had rested her young, frail head upon one of her arms. One of her hands was half open, as though she had been hold- ing something, the veil, perhaps, that covered her. 21 242 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. You see the bones of her fingers penetrating the plas- ter. Her cranium is shining and smooth, her le^s are raised backward and placed one upon the other ; she did not suffer very long, poor child ! but it is her corpse that causes one the sorest pang to see, for she was not more than fifteen years of age. The fourth body is that of a man, a sort of colossus. He lay upon his back so as to die bravely ; his arms and his limbs are straight and rigid. His clothing is very clearly defined, the greaves visible and fitting closely ; his sandals laced at the feet, and one of them pierced by the toe, the nails in the soles distinct ; the stomach naked and swollen like those of the other bodies, perhaps by the effect of the water, which has kneaded the ashes. He wears an iron ring on the bone of one finger; his mouth is open, and some of his teeth are missing ; his nose and his cheeks stand out promimently ; his eyes and his hair have disappeared, but the moustache still clings. There is something martial and resolute about this fine corpse. After the women who did not want to die, we see this man, fearless in the midst of the ruins that are crushing him — impavidum ferlent ruinœ. THE ERUPTION. 243 I stop here, for Pompeii itself can offer nothing that approaches this palpitating drama. It is violent death, with all its supreme tortures, — death that suffers and struggles, — taken in the very act, after the lapse of eighteen centuries. ITINERARY. AN ITINERARY In order to render my work less lengthy and less confused, as well as easier to read, I have grouped together the curiosities of Pompeii, according to their importance and their purport, in differ- ent chapters. I shall now mark out an itinerary, wherein they will be classed in the order in which they present themselves to the traveller, and I shall place after each street and each edifice the indication of the chapter in which I have described or named it in my work. In approaching Pompeii by the usual entrance, which is the nearest to the railroad, it would be well to go directly to the Forum. See chap. n. The monuments of the Forum are as follows. I have italicized the most curious : The Basilica. See chap. it. The Temple of Venus. " The Curia, or Council Hall. " The Edifice of Eumachia. ' ' The Temple of Mercury. " The Temple of Jupiter. " The Senate Chamber. " The Pantheon. " From the Forum, you will go toward the north, passing by the Arch of Triumph; visit the Temple of Fortune (see chap, vi.), and stop at the Thermae (see chap. v.). On leaving the Therinse, pass through the entire north-west of the city, that is to say, the space comprised between the streets of For- tune and of the Thermae and the walls. In this space are comprised the following edifices : 247 248 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. The House of Pansa. See chap. VI. The House of the Tragic Pod. Chap. vil. The Fullonica. Chap. in. The Mosaic Fountains. Chap. vu. The House of Adonis. Chap. Til. The House of Apollo. The House of Meleager. The House of the Centaur. The House of Castor and Pollux. Chap. vu. The House of the Anchor. The House of Polybius. The House of the Academy of Music. The Bakery. See chap. in. The House of Sallust. Chap. vn. The Public bven. A Fountain. Chap. in. The House of the Dancing Girls. The Perfumery Shop. Chap ill. The House of Three Stories. ^ The Custom House. Chap. IV. The House of the Surgeon. Chap. m. The House of the Vestal Virgins. The Shop of Albinus. The Thermopohum. Chap. in. Thus you arrive at the Walls and at the Gate of Herculaneum, beyond which the Street of the Tombs opens and the suburbs de- velop. All this is described in chap. IY. Here are the monuments in the Street of the Tombs : The Sentry Box. See Chap. rv. The Tomb of Mamia. The Tomb of Ferentius. The Sculptor's Atelier. The Tomb with the Wreaths. The Public Bank. The House of the Mosaic Columns. The Villa of Cicero. The Tomb of Scaurus. AN ITINERARY. 249 The Round Tomb. See Chap. iy. The Tomb with the Marble Door. The Tomb of Libella. The Tomb of Calventius. The Tomb of Newleia Tycliê. The Funereal Triclinium. The Tomb of Labeo. The Tombs of the Arria Family. Tlie Villa of Diomed. Having visited these tombs, re-enter the city by the Herculaneum Gate, and, returning over part of the way already taken, find the Street of Fortune again, and there see — The House of the Faun. Chap. vu. The House with the Black Wall. The House with the Figured Capitals. The House of the Grand Duke. The House of Ariadne. The House of the Hunt. Chap. \n. You thus reach the place where the Street of Stabiaa turns to the right, descending toward the southern part of the city. Before taking this street, you will do well to follow the one in which you already are to where it ends at the Nola Gate, which is worth see- ing. See chap. iv. The Street of Stabiae marks the limit reached by the excavations. To the left, in going down, you will find the handsome House of Lucretius. See chap. VII. On the right begins a whole quarter recently discovered and not yet marked out on the diagram. Get them to show you — The House of Siricus. Chap. vu. The Hanging Balconies. Chap. hi. The New Bakery. Chap. in. Turning to the left, below the the Street of Stabiae you will cross the open fields, above the part of the city not yet cleared, as far as the Amphitheatre. See chap. viii. Then, retracing your steps and intersecting the Street of Stabiae, you enter a succession of streets, comparatively wide, which will lead you back to the Forum. You will there find, on your right, 250 THE WONDERS OF POMPEII. the Hot Baths of Stabiœ. See chap. v. On your left is the House of Cornelius Bufus and that of Proculus, recently discovered. See chap. vu. There now remains for you to cross the Street of Abundance at the southern extremity of the city. It is the quarter of the trian- gular Forum, and of the Theatres — the most interesting" of all. The principal monuments to be seen are — The Temple of Isis. See chap. vil. The Curia Isiaca. The Temple of Hercules. Chap. vu. The Grand Theatre. Chap. viii. The Smaller Theatre. " The Barracks of the Gladiators. Chap. viii. At the farther end of these barracks opens a small gate by which you may leave the city, after having made the tour of it in three hours, on this first excursion. On your second visit you will be able to go about without a guide. (Êiutcattottcil fet^ltooks AND l£$ov\i& of imefevence FOR THE fflst jof %iûmts m Suffis, ^tùmits, mît Caille* PUBLISHED BY (Jljarrps iESrrt&npr %• <|o., 654 BROADWAY, NEW YORK. Messrs. 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The principal peculiarity of the work — the reducing language to its proper subordination to thought — is a feature that must commend itself to every intelligent mind.." — J. Q. FRENCH, Atkinson, New Hampshire. (&lemerii& of r$Lo<$ic. P)AY. — Elements of Logic. Comprising the Doc- *^ trine of Laws and Produces of Thought and the Doctrine oi Method, together with Logical Praxis. Designed for classes and for private study. By Prof. Henry N. Day. One volume, i2mo. Price $i S° Professor Day's long experience as an instructor has enabled him to fully appreciate the necessities of the student and teacher, and this work with those upon the Arts of Composition and of Discourse, which supple- ment it, make a series of text books of unsurpassed practical value. The Logic is designed for learners, and the aim has been to develop the science in strict method. From the determination of the single radical principle of thought, its laws and the fo*ms of its products have been methodically evolved ; and the doctrine of method with the exercises is but the end and result toward which the unfolding of the doctrine of the elements of thought have steadily tended. The exercises are prepared specially for the help of the teacher. Recognizing fully all that Sir William Hamilton and others have done for the science, Professor Day does not confine himself strictly to any one method. Various new points are introduced which have already been approved and accepted by the numerous instructors who have adopted the work as a text book as valuable contributions to the advance- ment of the science. OPINIONS OF PRACTICAL INSTRUCTORS. No person who studies this book can well fail to understand logic— -Dr. HORA CE WEBSTER, of the College of the City of New York. A work of decided merit and well worthy a place as a text book in our higher institution» of learning. — E. J. RICE, President University of Kansas. I am most favorably impressed with its suitableness for a text book— J. IV. LIND- SA Y, President of Geneva College. An excellent treatise and is well adapted for a text book in the higher institutions of learning.— C. NUTT, President Indiana State University. I have looked over Day's Logic and am very much pleased with the method and the fulness of the author's discussion of the subject The points which he specifies in his introductory pages give it peculiar excellence and fit it to be a text book in pure logic. I shall take great pleasure in commending it to students — The late Professor DUNN % # Brown University. 8 Charles Scrïbner & Co!s Text-Books, etc. Y\AY. — An Introduction to the Study of English ^* Literature. By Prof. H. N. Day, of New Haven. One volume, i2mo, uniform with Day's u Logic" " Ai't of Discourse? and "Art of Composition''' Cloth $2.25 The distinguishing char acteris tic of this text-book is that it directs the study to the literature itself as a growth, not to authorship, not to history, not to criticism. It presents, in the first part, a selection of the master- pieces of our literature, most worthy of special study in themselves, while best representing the successive phases of the language and literature. These selections are accompanied by copious notes, philological, historical, and aesthetical, indicating and explaining the changes in the forms and meanings of words, the structure of the sentence, and the verse-forms in our language. It thus presents a study that can be prosecuted with as definite an aim and object in each successive lesson as the ordinary study of a Greek or Latin classic It guides the learner to what he is to learn, and the teacher to what he is to teach. Besides the concrete presentation of our literature in these representative selections, in the second part it presents, in a strict analytical method, a full detailed view of the elements of the language, and of the departments of the literature, with the leading authors in each depart- ment. To this part the notes or the selections refer throughout. The rise of language, the origin and affinities of the English tongue, its elements and characteristics, the principles of its orthography, pronunciation, word- formation, versification, etc., are here systematically treated for thorough study or for incidental reference. ~P\AY. — The American Speller. By Prof. H. N. Day, ^^^ Author of "Logic," "Art of Discourse," "Art of Composi- tion/' and " Introduction to English Literature." In preparing this work, the entire vocabulary of the language has been ranged word by word, and distributed into classes under the orthographic principles which have determined the spelling. The pupil thus, while learning comparatively few individual words, comes unconsciously to a practical acquaintance with the classes of words, and so to the principles of the orthography. The work is of the medium size of spelling-books in use, and of the ordinary size of type. But by its compactness, its methodical arrangement in groups and classes, and its omission of foreign matter, it contains more words than ordinary spelling-books, besides a primer sufficiently ample to introduce adults to the more advanced reading lessons, and also a large selection of choice sentences for dictation exercises. Chartes Scribuer & Co. 1 s Text-Books, etc. y ^œbercili&L T DAWSON. — The Fœderalist : A Collection of *^ Essays, written in favor of the New Constitution, as agreed to by the Federal Convention, September 17, 1787. Reprinted from the original text. Under the editorial supervision of Henry B. Dawson. University edition. One volume, 8vo, cloth . $3 00 The Same ; with Bibliographical and Historical Introduction, Notes and Portraits. By Henry B. Dawson. One volume, 8vo, cloth $3 75 One of the first and most striking results of the late war was the develop- ment of an eager desire among all intelligent persons to investigate the theory and principles of our Government ; and as an aid to the proper understand- ing of the great questions which these involved, there is no work in exist- ence to be compared with the Fœderalist. " The text employed in this edi- tion," as Mr. Dawson states, " is that which the distinguished authors them- selves originally gave to the world, without addition or abridgment, or the least alteration, except where typographical errors were subsequently cor- rected by the authors themselves." CRITICAL NOTICES. " Mr. Dawson has performed the task with evident zealous interest in the subject, with a painstaking and minute thoroughness of research, which is as uncommon as it is commonda- ble, and with unmistakable explicitness in the statement of its results." — N. Y. Tribrme. " Mr. Dawson's edition is the best that has been published." — N". Y. Independent. " Altogether, this stands as the best edition of the Fœderalist ever issued in all its particu- lars. " —Boston Post. sZè>iubie& in (&n%li&h. T\E VERE (PROF. M. SCHELE).— Studies in Eng- *-^ lish; or, Glimpses into the Inner Life of our Language. By M. Schele De Vere, LL.D., Professor of Modern Languages in the University of Virginia. One volume, crown 8vo, cloth $2 50 Nearly fifty years ago Thomas Jefferson, the founder of the University of Virginia, inserted Anglo-Saxon among the subjects on which a course of kit mes was to be delivered by the incumbent of the chair of modern languages. Prof. Scheie De Vere, who has for many years filled the chah in question with marked ability, has gone beyond the wishes of Mr. Jeffer- son so far as to embody in this volume the results of his extensive V liiological studies and researches. The volume is written in an exceed- io Charles Scribner & Co. 1 s Text-Books, etc. ingly attractive style ; it is entertaining in matter, full of curious information, and forms an admirable introduction to the more profound works of Muller or Marsh, while it is in itself an admirable compend. CRITICAL NOTICES. " No one will read it, still less will any one study and take its lessons, without finding his comprehension greatly enlarged of the manifold origin, the vast variety, and the incompar- able excellences of our English language. It is withal an aid to the etymology of a multitude of words or classes of words, of which any scholar, however well-informed, will be glad to avail himself in the study of his mother tongue."— New York Examiner. " The work may be read to advantage by all who have any respect for sense or conscience in the use of words, and who believe that justness of thought is closely connected with pro- priety of expression." — New York Tribune. 'Wfoiloiog^. T\ WIGHT. Modern Philology : Its Discoveries, < History, and Influence. With Maps, Tabular Views, and an Index. By Benjamin W. D wight, Author of" The Higher Christian Education." Two volumes, 8vo, cloth . . . $6 oo The topics discussed in these volumes, the author remarks, " spread over a wide area of the most deeply interesting and intimately related subjects." * " Their very titles," he adds, " bear inspiration in them to a mind of scholar- ly tastes and habits : * An Historical Sketch of the Indo-European Lan- guages ;' 'The History of Modern Philology;' * Etymology as a Science;' 4 Comparative Phonology,' and * Comparative English Etymology in its Classical Aspects.' In volume first the historical, ethnographic, and biblio- graphical elements of comparative philology are presented, although brief- ly, yet, it is believed, in adequate detail ; while in the second volume its more scientific and practical characteristics are offered to the view. From them both as one whole, any student of moderate classical attainments, and of but ordinary force of will, can obtain, not only a competent introduction to the treasures of the new philology, but also a sufficiently strong sense of having mastered its comprehensive array of materials and deductions to be both able and, as the author would hope, eager to pursue his studies, effectively for himself, in this most inviting field of research." The work is one of the most scholarly, profound, philosophical, and comprehensive in the whole range of our philological literature. CRITICAL NOTICES. 11 This volume is written in plain, intelligible, and unpretending language, and is the pro- duction, evidently, «f a man of very considerable learning, unremitting diligence, and large and discriminating powers of research. It is destined, if we mistake not, to enjoy the com- paratively rare merit of being at once the text-book of the student, and the hand-book of thf philosopher."— Bookseller {London). Charles Scribner & Co' s Text-Books, etc. n ^)erh^& Chômer. "P\ERBY. — The Iliad of Homer rendered into ^^ English Blank Verse. By Edward, Earl of Derby. From the fifth London edition. Two volumes, 8vo, on tinted paper, half calf extra, $9 ; cloth $5 00 The very cordial welcome extended to this translation of Homer both in Eng- land and this country is the most satisfactory proof that could be given to its extraordinary merits. And yet in the preface to the first edition the distinguished author wrote, " Various causes, irrespective of any demerits of the work itself, forbid me to anticipate for this translation any extensive popularity." As the ground for this apprehension he alleged a fear that taste for and appreciation of classical literature are greatly on the decline, and that the English reader who might be unacquainted with Greek " would naturally prefer the harmonious versification and polished brilliancy of Pope's translation " to his own attempt to produce such a rendering of the original as " would fairly and honestly give the sense and spirit of every passage and of every line ; omitting nothing, and expanding nothing ; and adhering as closely as our language will allow even to every epithet which is capable of being translated, and which has in the particular passage any- thing of a special and distinctive character." In the preface to the fifth edition the noble author acknowledged that the favorable reception which had been given to the work afforded a gratifying proof as to how far he had overrated the extent to which the taste for and appreciation of classical lit- erature had declined, and he might have added that the same fact also proved that the public preferred his own translation, which is as literal as the exigencies of the English language will allow, to the paraphrase of Pope. It is certainly no exaggeration to allege that this translation of Homer will always hold a place among English classics, and that no other is likely to be produced which will surpass it in poetic merit joined with fidelity to the original. CRITICAL NOTICES. " Whatever may be the ultimate fate of this poem — whether it take sufficient hold of the public mind to satisfy that demand for a translation of Homer which we have alluded to, ind thus become a permanent classic of the language, or whether it give place to the still more perfect production of some yet unknown poet — it must equally be considered a splen- did performance ; and for the present we have no hesitation in saying that it is by far the Lest representation of Homer's Iliad in the English language." — London Times. " The merits of Lord Derby's translation may be summed up in one word : it is eminent- ly attractive ; it is instinct with life ; it may be read with fervent interest ; it is immeasurably nearer than Pope to the text of the original. ... It will not only be read, but «ad over again and again Lord Derby has given to England a version far more closely allied to the original, ~-»d superior to any that has yet been attempted in the blank verse of our language. "-^ -Edith '*• Review. 12 Charles Scribner & Co. 9 s Text-Books, etc. "PELTER'S First Lessons in Numbers (Illustrated), containing tables and tabular Exercises for pupils commencing Lhe study of Numbers, By S. A. Felter. Prices, see E ducat. Cat. . Primary Arithmetic, designed for pri- mary classes, combining mental and written Arithmetic, with De- nominate Tables and U. S. Money. With and without answers. Intermediate Arithmetic. An Element ary Written Arithmetic, including the Fundamental Rules, U. S Money, and Denominate Numbers, with a short course on Frac- tions and Interest. With and without answers. Grammar School Arithmetic. This book is the highest of the Common School Series, and is intended to give the pupil all the information and practice he needs in any department of commercial life. With and without answers. University Arithmetic. Designed to investigate the science of Numbers, including the theory of Scales, Factors, Circulating Decimals, etc., and examines the principles relating to Exchange, Banking, Life Insurance, etc. (In prepa- ration^) ^-— Intellectual Arithmetic. Designed for advanced classes, and combines mental with blackboard exer- cises, on a new plain. Teachers' Manual of Arithmetic. Prepared expressly for the use of teachers, and contains the best methods of oral, class, and individual instruction. NOTE. For the convenience of Private Schools, and teachers reqtnring a complete Arithmetic in one volume, the " Intermediate" and " Grammar School" with answers, are bound in one volume, and form FELTER'S PRACTICAL ARITHMETIC. Although these books possess features which distinguish them from the many Arithmetics now before the public, they illustrate no untried theory, but are the result of a long practical experience in the class-room. Among the peculiarities and excellencies which so readily address the common- sense of educators, and which make these books such desirable aids in a school-room, are the following : I. They follow the natural order of instruc- Charles Scribner & Co! s Text-Books, etc, 13 tion, fads, or the concrete, first ; principles, or the abstract, afterwards. 2. They contain more than five times as many examples for practice as any rival series. 3. They are more perfectly graded and more trulj progressive than any works now before the public. 4. The several books form a series by following each other in a natural gradation, each higher book continuing the investigation of the subject. 5. They are truly analytic. 6. They are not overburdened with rules, remarks, and suggestions, and other superfluous matter, but require the pupils to depend upon common-sense, to use their own eyes and judgment. 7. The review of each work is such as to necessitate a thorough knowledge of each subject over which the class have passed, even though individual members may have been occasionally absent. 8. The " Manual " has been prepared ex- pressly to be used in connection with this series, giving the teacher model exercises, in the best methods of oral, mental, written, and class instruction. **# Copies for examination will be sent by mail, postage paid, on receipt of 30 cents each for the " Intermediate," " Grammar School," and " Prac- tical," and 13 cents each for the " First Lessons," " Primary," " Intellec- tual," and " Manual." OPINIONS OF PRACTICAL INSTRUCTORS. " In using my efforts for the introduction of Professor Felter's series of Arithmetics in the schools under my supervision I have only performed the simple duty of providing them the best works I know of, and those best adapted to their wants and to the purpose had in view. These works have certain features most admirably calculated to awaken the interest and enlist the attention of our pupils ; and the study of arithmetic has taken a new start since they were introduced, and is pursued with a zest unknown before. The teachers, I believe, are universally pleased with the books, and those who were at first unfavorable to the series have become most enthusiastic in their favor."— A. E. NEWTON, Superintendent of the Colored Schools of Washington and Georgetown. " I am so fully convinced of the excellence of Felter's series of Arithmetics, that I have earnestly recommended their adoption as text-books into every school in Union county. From a careful examination, and practical tests in the class-room, I am persuaded that these books possess the true ideas of teaching. They are being rapidly introduced into all the schools in the country. I would most cordially recommend teachers who have not seen them to send for a set." — Prof. A. F. CAMPBELL, Superintendent of Public Schools, Union County, N. J. " I look upon the work as the most natural in its gradations of any series with which I am at present acquainted, and hope to see it generally adopted in all our schools." — JOHN CORE, Esq., Chief Clerk, Department of Public Instruction, Baltimore, Md. " The matter is well arranged, and embraces all that is usually required in that branch of learning. The rules are plain, concise, and easily understood. The examples are well selected, and illustrate the principles in every case. I would, therefore, recommend them to all who wish to acquire a complete knowledge of the subject;." — Prof EDWARD McIL» DUFF, Principal of Catholic School of the Assumption, Brooklyn, N. Y. **# Catalogues containing full descriptions of Charles Scribner âr 3 Co?s school text -books and appliances, with numerous testimonials from those who have practically tested them, will be sent to any address on appli- cation. 14 Charles Scribner & Co! s Text-Books, etc. T^ORSYTH. — Life of Marcus Tullius Cicero. By William Forsyth, M.A., Q.C., Author of " Hortensius/ 11 Napoleon at St. Helena," " Sir Hudson Lowe," " History of Trial by Jury," etc., etc., and late Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge. Twenty engravings. Two volumes, crown 8vo, tinted paper, half calf, $9 ; cloth $5 00 The manner in which the times of Cicero and his works have been studied has had a tendency to lead us to forget the man in the scholar or the poli- tician. Mr. Forsyth in these volumes has endeavored, and with success so complete as to make the biography one of the most charming ever written, to show us the great Roman orator as he was in his own home. In carry- ing out this design Mr. Forsyth has not only given us the most complete and well-balanced account of the life of Cicero ever published ; he has drawn for us an accurate and graphic picture of domestic life among the best classes of the Romans, one which the reader of general literature, as well as the student, may peruse with the keenest pleasure and with profit. CRITICAL NOTICES. "A scholar without pedantry, and a Christian without cant, Mr. Forsyth seems to have seized with praiseworthy tact the precise attitude which it behooves a biographer to take when narrating the life, the personal life, of Cicero. Mr. Forsyth produces what we venture to say will become one of the classics of English biographical literature, and will be welcomed by readers of all ages and both sexes, of all professions and of no profession at all." — London Quarterly. " His book is a valuable contribution to our standard literature. It is a work which will aid our progress toward the truth — it lifts a corner of the veil which has hung over the scenes and actors of times so full of ferment, and allows us to catch a glimpse of the stage upon which the great drama was played." — North A merican Review. " Mr. Forsyth has discreetly told his story, evenly and pleasantly supplied it with apt illus- trations from modern law, eloquence, and history, and brought Cicero as near to. the present time as the differences of age and manners warrant. * * * These volumes we heartily recommend as both a useful and agreeable guide to the writings and character of one who was next in intellectual and political rank to the foremost man of all the world, at a period when there were many to dispute with him the triple crown of forensic, philosophic, and political composition." — Satzirday Review. " Mr. Forsyth has rightly aimed to set before us a portrait of Cicero in the modern style of biography, carefully gleaning from his extensive correspondence all those little traits of character and habit which marked his private and domestic life. These volumes form a very acceptable addition to the classic library. The style is that of a scholar and a man of taste." — London Athenastim. "The book is, in its minutest details, most emphatically a gentleman's book, and is sure to find its way to the library-tables of all readers of taste and cultivation." — N. Y. Tintes. "We have no doubt that this edition will become a standard classic." — N. Y. Observer. Charles Scribner & Co! s Text- Books, etc. 15 T7R0UDE. — History of England from the Fall •*- of Wolsey to the Death of Elizabeth. By James An- thony Froude, M.A., Fellow of Exeter College, Oxford. Ten volumes, crown 8vo. Price per volume, half calf, $5 ; cloth . $3 00 Mudle's Circulating Library, the most extensive of these favorite institu- tions in London, has subscribed for a larger number of volumes of Froude'? history than it did of Macaulay's. The fact shows how wide a popularity this work has already attained in England, and it is in every respect fully deserved ; for to unwearied patience in research and extraordinary powers of generalization, Mr. Froude unites an eloquent and wonderfully clear and graphic style. In selecting for investigation the period covered by these volumes, Mr. Froude ventured into a field which had often been explored, but he did it with a full knowledge of the fact that there were stores of the richest material which had been virtually untouched by previous historians and which were sure to reward careful examination. The Spanish archives in the castle of Simancas, and the records of the Inquisition, were thrown open to Mr. Froude by the Madrid government. He also had free access to the Imperial archives at Paris, and to the private papers of Lord Cecil at Hatfield, England. From all these sources he has derived a vast amount of material which throws a flood of light upon the personal characters of Henry the Eighth, of Mary Queen of Scots, and of Queen Elizabeth, and which at the same time illustrates very clearly the relations which these and other leading characters of the time held to the Reformation. Mr. Froude does not hesitate to express his own views because they run counter to generally received opinions, but he is always careful to sustain his assertions by refer- ence to his authorities. The first six volumes of the work extend from the fall of Wolsey, and through the reigns of Henry the Eighth, Edward the Sixth, and Mary ; and the seventh volume opens a new era in the Refor- mation with the accession of Elizabeth. So mucli that is new to the student is developed in these volumes that Mr. Froude's history almost seems to be the record of a period — and that, too, one of the most important in English annals — which has never before been fully or faithfully described. CRITICAL NOTICES. " They are a worthy continuation of a history which will hold a high place in English literature. Mr. Froude belongs to the school of Carlyle, but he is not an imitator of that great writer. He equals him in industry and profound study, but he is calmer and more natural in his tone, more thoughtful in his remarks on events, more unaffected in his narra- tive, and more simple and life-like in his portraits. In the main, he is a pictorial historian, and his skill in description and fulness of knowledge make his work abound in scenes and passages that are almost new to the general reader. We close his pages with unfeigned regret, and we bid him good speed in his noble mission of exploring the sources of English history in one of its most remarkable periods/'— British Quarterly Review. 1 6 Charles Scribner & Co! s Text-Books, etc. (3>u|iaf's (S>e00raphiC53* Ç* U YOT. — Primary ; or, Introduction to the Studs *-* of Geography. By Prof. Arnold Guyot, of Princeton College. One quarto volume, with over One Hundred elegant Illustrations. For prices, see Edticational Catalogue. Elementary Geography. With Maps and Illustrations. One small 4to volume. The Intermediate Geography. In one quarto volume, elegantly Illustrated, containing Forty-five Maps, of which twelve are full-page Maps, engraved in the highest style of the art, Colored Politically and Physically, embracing Colored Dia- grams for the Construction of the Maps of each Continent, and also Colored Diagrams with full Instructions for Drawing the Maps of the separate States of the United States. Common-School Geography. — In one royal quarto volume, with numerous Illustrations. Containing Twenty-three Maps, of which five are double-page Maps, engraved in the highest style of the art, colored politically and physically, em- bracing also Diagrams for the Construction of Maps of each Con- tinent. The Same. Teachers' Edition, with Teacher's Guide. Grammar and High-School Geography. {In preparation.) In this series of text-books, Prof. Arnold Guyot, since the death of Carl Ritter, confessedly the greatest of geographers, unfolds that method of in- structing the science which practical experience, here as well as in Europe, has proved to be at once the most philosophical and the simplest. Instead of burdening the memory with catalogues of names having very little significance to the young student, Prof. Guyot first attempts to give the pupil as correct conceptions as possible of the leading geographical forms of land and water, with the terms by which they are distinguished, in order that he may, when employing these terms, attach a distinct idea to each. Next he endeavors to give him an idea of the manner of representing portions of the earth's surface by maps, thus preparing him to make the map itself a special object of study ; and all the time he aims to lead him on, by awakenincr a desire for future study, and at the same time to develop the Charles Scribner & Co! s Text-Books, ete. IJ powers of perception and imagination which will be constantly exercised in that study. The Elementary Geography is a class-book for study and reci tation for Primary Scholars, containing simply that which should be firmly fixed on the memory, and omitting all merely illustrative description. It begins with lessons about home, and gradually advances in the study of limited regions which have marked characteristics, until all the leading countries of the earth are noticed. The teacher is supplied with models and methods, the result of many years of experience in geographical instruction, greatly simplifying instruction, and making the book, by far the most teach- able of its kind published. In the Intermediate Geography the leading characteristics are the study of the form of the earth and the location of the continents upon its surface ; the form of the continents and the location of their mountain ranges, rivers, lakes, and countries ; the form of countries and the location of their Physical features, cities, and towns. Constructive map-drawing and a series of ex- haustive questions upon each map serve to fix the facts distinctly in the minds of the pupils, and in this text-book special attention is paid to the study of the United States as a whole, and to the study of the separate States. Single and double page maps, colored politically and physically, assist the scholar at each step. The Common School Geography embraces a minute and detailed study of each map ; a full description of the general physical character of each continent, its vegetable and animal life, the races of men which inhabit it, and the States into which it is divided. The physical character of each country is made the basis of the study of the country ; and all facts regard- ing its political geography are so intimately linked with its physical char- acter that it is impossible to forget them. In the arrangement of the subject- matter, the necessity for mechanical memorizing is entirely obviated, as each separate class of facts is studied in connection with its immediate causes and results. Consequently the pupil is never required to commit to memory a catalogue of facts having no connection, and therefoie without significance. Physical Geography, heretofore so treated as to be accessible only to the mature mind, is here presented as a simple description of the physical char- acter of individual continents. It is thus entirely divested of its difficulties and obscurities, and is made perfectly intelligible and attractive even to the youngest pupil. In each and all of these text-books the best artistic skill has been engaged in the production of both maps and engravings. The maps are presented in a style never before attempted in this country in school-books of this class, and the illustrations have a direct connection with the text, explaining it most pertinently and happily. The care with which these text -books were prepared has marked a new era in our educa- tional literature of this grade, and has done much to elevate and improve it. Wherever they have been put to a practical test, the result has been a 1 8 Charles Scnbner & Co! s Text-Books, etc. cordial and emphatic approval of the principle upon which they are based, as the only one upon which geography can be taught successfully. OPINIONS OF PRACTICAL INSTRUCTORS, AND OF SCIENTIFIC MEN " Incomparably superior to anything published." — Prof. AGASSIZ. " One of the ablest physical geographers in the world." — Prof. J. D. DANA. " Greatly superior to any works of the kind published."—/^ JOSEPH HENR Y. " Thorough, systematic, and exhaustive." — Prof. GEO. M. GA GE. " They mark the dawn of a new era."— Prof. IV. J. ROLFE. " We take Guyot as our guide, and use his book."— Prof. SANBORN TENNEV. "Philosophical and accurate ; simple and attractive." — Rev. B. G. NORTHROP. " It is the only system worthy of the name."— Prof. W. H. PAINE. " I believe in them."— Hon. ANSON SMYTH. " Unquestionably the best text-books."— Prof. THOMA S IV. HA R VE Y. " No book of the kind worthy of being compared to it."— Prof. E. A. SHELDON. "It stands the practical test of the school-room admirably.— Prof H. B.SPRAGUE. " The books have been tried with the best results."— Prof. R. EDWARDS. " Should be unwilling to exchange it for any other work extant. — Prof S. H. PEARL. "Abundantly satisfa&ory.— Prof EDWARD CON A NT. " The best Geography with which I am acquainted." — Prof. J. S. CILLE Y. " I congratulate the 100,000 children of Vermont upon the adoption of these books in our schools." — Hon. J.S. ADAMS, Sec. Board of Education, Vermont. **# Teachers desiring to examine Prof. Guyot's text-books can procure them of the Publishers at the following prices : the Primary, 75 c. ; the Common School Geography, $1.50; the Intermediate Geography, $1.00; or the three books will be sent together to teachers for $3.00. /^UYOT. — Physical and Political, and Classical ^-^ Wall Maps. By Prof. Arnold Guyot, of Princeton Col- lege. Geographical Teaching : Being a com- plete Guide to the Use of Guyot's Wall Maps for Schools, contain- ing six maps and diagrams, with full instructions for drawing the maps of the Continents, in accordance with Guyot's System of Con- structive Map Drawing. One volume, i2mo. . . . 75c These maps are a valuable accompaniment to the study of Prof. Guyot's system of Geography, and they are issued in a style superior to any other maps produced in this country. There are four Series in all : the Classical, including maps of the Roman Empire, Ancient Greece, and Italia, the last named embracing a plan of Ancient Rome (6 x 8 feet in size ; $15 each, or $45 per set) ; the Large Series, in which there are nine maps (from 4x5 to 10x6 feet; $71 per set) ; the Intermediate Series, which include? eight maps (4x5 and 5x6 feet ; $38.50 per set) ; and the Primary Series, in which there are ten maps (2 x 3 to 4 x 5 feet ; $18 per set). The Classical and Large Series are specially adapted for use in high-schools and colleges, Charles Scribner & Co! s Text-Books ; etc, 19 and are the only ones issued in this country which deserve to be recommended for that purpose. The Intermediate and Primary Series are fully equal to the Large Series in all respects, save as regards size. The different sets, in fact, combine all the essential qualities of the very best school-maps. They have the following characteristics in common : I. They are correct. To a great extent they have been worked out anew from original documents, and are therefore fresh and original. 2. They are distinguished by clearness and simplicity. 3. Due importance is given to the physical features, which so vitally affect the climate, river systems, productions and eco- nomic value, animals, and even the character of the inhabitants, their civil and political conditions. Unusual care has been taken to exhibit the forms of relief, the elevations and depressions of the surface. The differ- ences in altitude of lowlands and plateaus are expressed by different tints, while the elevation and importance of the various mountain chains are indi- cated by the boldness of the topographical drawings — their depth of shading ; thus exhibiting their relative gradations and true proportions. 4. The political boundaries, the principal cities, rivers, etc., are distinctly designated, so that the maps are both physical and political. 5. Harmony has been preserved — that is, the true relative proportions of parts as found in nature. The Classical Maps have been prepared by Prof. Arnold Guyot and Prof. H. C. Cameron, with a desire of responding to the wants of an advanced scholarship, by placing within its reach the results of the most recent inves- tigations and discoveries in Ancient Geography. Classical scholars in this country have been dependent heretofore on Europe for the Geographical apparatus necessary for the higher kind of instruction which is now beginning to prevail in our classical schools and colleges. The admirable Maps of Kiepert were not only expensive, but difficult to obtain ; and therefore it seemed that a series of Classical Maps, embracing all the excellences of those of Kiepert, with such additions as the present advanced state of knowledge in this department demanded, would confer a lasting benefit upon the cause of thorough education and sound classical scholarship in our country. Sci- entific Expeditions, Topographical Surveys, and the researches of modern travellers, many of whom were accurate classical scholars, have greatly increased our knowledge of Ancient Geography, and given definiteness and certainty to much that was previously vague and conjectural, and these maps embody the results of all the most recent discoveries. **# Any maps in the different series, excepting the Primary, may be pur- chased separately. #** Messrs. Charles Scribner & Co. also furnish paper map-drawing cards, which are essential helps to the proper study of Prof. Guyot's system. Nine in a set, are sold for 50 cents. **# Full descriptive catalogues of Guy of s text-books and maps, and all ou? other educational appliances, with pamphlets contai?iing testimonials from those who ham practically tested them, will be sent to any address» 20 Charles Scribner & Co. 1 s Text-Books } eêè- IZMovcxi Science* TJOPKINS. — The Law of Love and Love as .a -■- -*• Law. A Treatise on Moral Science. By Mark Hopkins, D.D., LL.D., President of Williams College. One volume, i2mo. $i 50 This work is both theoretical and practical, and is specially designed for a text-book. In the theoretical part morality is made rational, both as based on ends and as involving intuitions. Obligation, in distinction from right, is made the moral idea ; the foundation of obligation is fully discussed, and a reconciliation of different systems is attempted. In the practical pari the Law of Love is applied in connection with the Law of Limitation, and with a classification of duties — new as respects its basis. CRITICAL NOTICES. " In this work, Dr. Hopkins has given the world a clear exposition of the principles of moral science, and practical rules for their application. " The simplicity, strength, and exactness of its style and language ; its discriminating analysis and forcible logic ; its accurate adjustments of relative truths ; its admirable blend- ing of the independence of human reason with dependence upon the Divine mind — in all these respects we have no hesitation in saying that its combined excellencies place the work at the head of all similar treatises. It is the most satisfactory of all works on moral science, and presents a system as far removed from adverse criticism as possible. It is rare that thought so profound is expressed in language so concise, pure, and clear." — Journal, Albany, N. Y. " This work is a careful, methodic, and, we believe, exhaustive essay on the subject of moral science, both theoretical and practical, divided and arranged in a great number of classifications, which have their logical order of sequence, and are all maintained and set forth with a precision that makes peremptory claim on the attention of the philosophic student."— N. V. Times. " He discourses on the lofty themes of which he treats with the tranquil dignity of a Pythagorean sage. No obscurity of thought, as in the case of Coleridge, betrays him into vague and desultory statements, dazzling the fancy of his readers with the glitter of strange Imagery, instead of informing his mind with the coherent exposition of truth. Nor is he enticed from his firm intellectual purpose by the vast array of ponderous erudition, with which Sir William Hamilton so often overlays his argument and discourages his readers. Ftsnsident Hopkins is almost master of his theme. He meets its difficulties manfully. He never shrinks before an objection, nor dodges the point of a question behind a cloud of irrelevant generalities. Even in the few instances in which he does not command our \ssent to his positions, he gains our respect by the fairness and vigor of his reasoning, and leads us to believe that could we change the point of view, there would be no difference in our convictions. His work will be received by the intelligent student of moral science with fiiendly welcomes, not only as the most recent production of the American mind in that department of thought, but as, in many respects, the most complete and masterly." — N~. Y. Tribune. " The impression produced by our cursory examination of the work is in the highest degree favorable to its perspicuity, truth, and force." — Boston Congregationalist. "A complete treatise on the theory and practice of morals." — Am. Presbyterian. Charles Scribner & Cols Text-Books, etc. 2\ IZMv*. sSkivhlixrih . |>^IRKLAND. — Garland of Poetry for the Young, A Selection of Poetry, in Four Parts, adapted to different ages. By Mrs. C. M. Kirkland. A new edition ; two volumes in one, i2mo, cloth. $2.25 This colle6lion of poetry is arranged upon a plan entirely novel and ori- ginal with Mrs. Kirkland. The selections comprised in the four different divisions are made with reference to the wants and tastes of the young, d'om childhood until they reach the comparatively mature age of eighteen or twenty years. This adaptation is very skilfully made throughout. Pref- erence has been given to lively and striking pieces in the selections ; and picturesque, descriptive, narrative, and domestic pieces more particularly abound, since they generally find their way readily to young hearts. T^IRKLAND. — Patriotic Eloquence: Being Selec- A ^- tions from one hundred years of National Literature. Com- piled for the use of Schools in reading and speaking. By Mrs. C. M. Kirkland. One volume, i2mo, cloth, . . . $1 50 Mrs. Kirkland's compilation was originally only brought down to the out- break of the Rebellion. In this edition additional value has been given to the collection by adding to it some specimens of the oratory and poetry which were called forth by the Rebellion and its vicissitudes. The volume, it should be stated, embraces poetry as well as prose, and is one of the best " Speakers " for schools ever compiled. ^bi^iorg of Idiome. ORD. — The Old Roman World. The Grandeur — ' and Failure of its Civilization. By John Lord, LL.D. One volume, crown 8vo, cloth, $3 00 In this work, Dr. Lord writes, in his peculiarly graphic and nervous style, " of the greatness and misery of the old Roman world." He first describes " The Conquest of the Romans ; " sketches the " Gran- deur and Glory of the Empire," " The Wonders of the City of Rome ; " discusses " The Principles and Progress of Ancient Art ; " " The Roman Constitution ; " Roman Jurisprudence, Literature, Philosophy, and Scien- tific Knowledge. The closing chapters describe " The Internal Condition of the Empire, and its Fall ; " giving some reasons why Literature, Art, Science, Laws, and other triumphs of civilization did not arrest ruin, and also why Christianity did not save the Empire. The volume will be found entertaining, instructive, and profitable in the highest degree, while it will be spe dally useful as a text-book for higher schools and colleges. 22 Charles Scribner & to! s Text-Books, etc. A/TAINE. — Ancient Law: Its Connexion with the ^^ Early History of Society, and its Relation to Modern Ideas. By Henry Sumner Maine, Member of the Supreme Council of India, and Regius Professor of the Civil Law in the University ot Cambridge. With an Introduction by Theodore W. D wight, LL.D., Professor of Municipal Law, Columbia College, New York. One volume, crown 8vo, cloth, $3 00 The chief object of this volume, as defined by its author, is " to indicate some of the earliest ideas of mankind as they are reflected in Ancient Law, and to point out the relation of those ideas to modern thought." In the Introduction to the American edition the distinguished jurist, Professor Dwight, states that the treatise is " almost the only one in the English language in which general jurisprudence is regarded from the historical point of view." The work may be said to consist of two parts ; the first, embracing four chapters, contains the philosophy of legal history, and the second is devoted to an account of the origin and progress of leading rules in legal science. The value of Mr. Maine's treatise will be recognized at once by every intelligent person, for its subje6t-matter possesses interest for others than professional men. To facilitate the use of the work in law schools and colleges, Prof. Dwight has prefaced the volume with a very clear abstract of its contents, which will be found serviceable by those who may study the treatise. CRITICAL NOTICES. " A text-book for all English students of jurisprudence. It presents elementary ideas in a distinct shape ; it shows how endless are the ramifications of the history of jurisprudence which can be followed by learned ingenuity ; it handles law in a large and free spirit ; it clears up points as to which an obscurity prevails in the minds of many writers and readers, and it is written with singular clearness. 11 — Saturday Review. " Professor Maine is probably .he first Englishman who, with any authority, has applied the 'historical method 1 to legal subjects, so successfully employed abroad; and his prominent example will have a tendency to establish a connection between the study of the philosophy of law and those branches of philosophical history whose foundation lies in philology and her sister sciences. 11 — London Review. " It is the work of an accurate and original mind, embodying the results of much thought and study, and expressed in singularly terse, clear, intelligible English. 11 — London Quar- terly. " It is history read from the point of Law, and Law studied by the light of history. It is consequently a book that addresses itself as much to the general student as to the lawyer." — Westminster Review. " Mr. Maine l s profound work on Ancient Law in its relation to modern ideas. 11 — JoJvn StmrtMtiL Just the Books for Presents and Prizes. €\}axltB Bcxibntt & €0-, 654 Broadway, New York, HAVE JUST COMMENCED THE PUBLICATION OP @IJF Illusfrafrb Eifirarg of Mmbm. This Library is based upon a similar series of works now in course of issue in France, the popularity of which may be inferred from the fa& that OVER ONE MILLION COPIES have been sold. The volumes to be comprised in the series are all written in a popular style, and, where scientific subjects are treated of, with care- ful accuracy, and with the purpose of embodying the latest discoveries and inventions, and the results of the most recent developments in every de- partment of investigation. Familiar explanations are given of the most striking phenomena in nature, and of the various operations and processes in science and the arts. Occasionally notable passages in history and re- markable adventures are described. The different volumes are profusely illustrated with engravings, designedly the most skilful artists, and execu- ted in the most careful manner, and every possible care will be taken to render them complete and reliable expositions of the subjects upon which they respectively treat. For THE FAMILY LIBRARY, for use as PRIZES in SCHOOLS, as an inexhaustible fund of ANECDOTE and ILLUSTRATION for TEACHERS, and as works of instruction and amusement for readers of all ages, the volumes comprising THE ILLUS TRATED LIBRARY OF WONDERS will be found unexcelled. The following volumes of the series have been published : — 2 Illustrated Library of Wonders. ©jitical WLovfttvu. T^HE WONDERS OF OPTICS.— By F. Marion. -*■ Illustrated with over seventy engravings on wood, many of them full-page, and a colored frontispiece. One volume, i2mo. Price $15° In the Wonders of Optics, the phenomena of Vision, including the struc- ture of the eye, optical illusions, the illusions caused by light itself, and the influence of the imagination, are explained. These explanations are not at all abstract or scientific. Numerous striking facts and events, many of which were once attributed to supernatural causes, are narrated, and from them the laws in accordance with which they were developed are derived. The closing section of the book is devoted to Natural Magic, and the properties of Mir- rors, the Stereoscope, the Spectroscope, &c, &c, are fully described, together with the methods by which "Chinese Shadows," Spectres, and numerous other illusions are produced. The book is one which furnishes an almost illimitable fund of amusement and instruction, and it is illustrated with no less than 73 finely executed engravings, many of them full-page. CRITICAL NOTICES. " The work has the merit of conveying much useful scientific information in a popular manner." — Phila. North American. "The subject is ably treated, sufficiently scientific to be reliable as a manual for the student, and sufficiently popular in style and treatment to make it attractive to the general reader." — San Francisco Evening Bulletin. " Thoroughly admirable, and as an introduction to this science for the general reader, leaves hardly anything to be desired."— N. Y. Evening Post. "Treats in a charming, but scientific and exhaustive manner, the wonderful subject of optics." — Cleveland Leader. " All the marvels of light and of optical illusions are made clear."— -N. Y. Observer. Efyunïftv anîr ?i.iflïjtmu0- TTHUNDER AND LIGHTNING. By W. De Fon- x vielle. Illustrated with 39 Engravings on wood, nearly all full-page. One volume, i2mo $1 50 Thunder and Lightning, as its title indicates, deals with the most star- tling phenomena of nature. The writings of the author, M. De Fonvielle, have at traded very general attention in France, as well on account of the happy manner in which he calls his readers' attention to certain fads hereto- fore treated in scientific works only, as because of the statement of others Illustrated Library of Wonders. often observed and spoken of, over which he appears to throw quite a new light. The different kinds of lightning — forked, globular, and sheet light- ning — are described ; numerous instances of the effects produced by this won- derful agency are very graphically narrated ; and thirty-nine engravings, nearly all full-page, illustrate the text most effectively. The volume is certain to excite popular interest, and to call the attention of persons unaccustomed to observe to some of the wonderful phenomena which surround us in this world. CRITICAL NOTICES. " In the book before us the dryness of detail is avoided. The author has given us all the scientific information necessary, and yet so happily united interest with instruction that no person who has the smallest particle of curiosity to investigate the subject treated of can fail to be interested in it." — N. Y. Herald. " Any boy or girl who wants to read strange stories and see curious pictures of the do- ings of electricity, had better get these books." — Our Young- Folks. " A volume which cannot fail to attract attention and awaken interest in persons who have not been accustomed to give the subjedl any thought" — Daily Register [New Haven). " The work is well done." — Presbyterian. TT HE WONDERS OF HEAT. By Achille Cazin. ■*■ With 90 illustrations, many of them full-page, and a colored frontispiece. One volume, i2mo . . . . $1 50 In the Wonders of Heat the principal phenomena are presented as viewed from the standpoint afforded by recent discoveries. Burning-glasses, and the remarkable effects produced by them, are described ; the relations between heat and electricity, between heat and cold, and the comparative effects of each, are discussed ; and incidentally, interesting accounts are given of the mode of formation of glaciers, of Montgolfier's balloon, of Davy* s safety- lamp, of the methods of glass-blowing, and of numerous other facts in nature and processes in art dependent upon the influence of heat. Like the other volumes of the Library of Wonders, this is illustrated wherever the text gives an opportunity for explanation by this method. critical notices. "From the first to the very last page the interest is all-absorbing." — Albany Evening Times. " The book deserves, as it will doubtless attain, a wide circulation." — Pittsburg Chron- icle. '* Abounds in correct and useful information." — Spring/ield Republican. 4 Illustrated Library of Wonders. "This book is instructive and clear." — Independent. " It describes and explains the wonders of heat in a manner to be clearly understood by non-scientific readers." — Phila. Inquirer. " Full of useful and deeply interesting information. — Universalist. " Its comprehensiveness and cheapness will cause it to be in demand." — Norwich Bul~ letin. Hmmal XnttlliQtntt. THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS, with •*■ Illustrative Anecdotes. — From the French of Ernest Menault. With 54 illustrations. One volume, i2mo . $i 50 In this very interesting volume there are grouped together a great num- ber of facts and anecdotes collected from original sources, and from the writings of the most eminent naturalists of all countries, designed to illus- trate the manifestations of intelligence in the animal creation. Very many novel and curious facts regarding the habits of Reptiles, Birds, and Beasts are narrated in the most charming style, and in a way which is sure to excite the desire of every reader for wider knowledge of one of the most fascinating subjects in the whole range of natural history. The grace and skill displayed in the illustrations, which are very numerous, make the vol- ume singularly attractive. CRITICAL NOTICES. u May be recommended as very entertaining." — London Athenceum. " The stories are of real value to those who take any interest in the curious habits of animals." — Rochester Democrat. 33fl»*Jt- pGYPT 3,300 YEARS AGO; or, Rameses the -*— ' Great. By F. De Lanoye. With 40 illustrations. One volume, i2mo $1 50 This volume is devoted to the wonders of Ancient Egypt during the time of the Pharaohs and under Sesostris, the period of its greatest splendor and magnificence. Her monuments, her palaces, her pyramids, and her works of art are not only accurately described in the text, but reproduced in a series of very attractive illustrations as they have been restored by French explorers, aided by students of Egyptology. While the volume has the attraction of being devoted to a subject which possesses all the charms of novelty to the great number of readers, it has the substantial merit of dis- cussing, with intelligence and careful accuracy, one of the greatest epochs in the world's history. Illustrated Library of Wonders. CRITICAL NOTICES. '* I think this a good book for the purpose for which it is designed. It is brief on each head, lively and graphic, without any theatrical artifices ; is not the work of a novice, but of a real scholar in Egyptology, and, as far as can be ascertained now, is history." — y AM ES C. MOFFA T, Professor in Princeton Theological Seminary. ADVENTURES ON THE GREAT HUNTING ^ GROUNDS OF THE WORLD. By Victor Meunier. Illustrated with 22 woodcuts. One volume, umo . . $1 50 Besides numerous thrilling adventures judiciously selected, this work con- tains much valuable and exceedingly interesting information regarding the different animals, adventures with which are narrated, together with accu. rate descriptions of the different countries, making the volume not only in- teresting, but instructive in a remarkable degree. VyONDERS OF POMPEII. By Marc Monnier. With 30 illustrations. One volume i2mo, . $15° There are here summed up, in a very lively and graphic style, the results of the discoveries made at Pompeii since the commencement of the exten- sive excavations there. The illustrations represent the houses, the domes- tic utensils, the statues, and the various works of art, as investigation gives every reason to believe that they existed at the time of the eruption. Sttfcitme in Nature* THE SUBLIME IN NATURE, FROM DESCRIP- TIONS OF CELEBRATED TRAVELLERS AND WRI- TERS. By Ferdinand Lanoye. Illustrated with 48 woodcuts. One volume, i2mo $1 50 The Air and Atmospheric Phenomena, the Ocean, Mountains, Volcanic Phenomena, Rivers, Falls and Cataracts, Grottoes and Caverns, and the Phenomena of Vegetation, are described in this volume, and in the most charming manner possible, because the descriptions given have been selected from the writings of the most distinguished authors and travellers. Illustrated Library of Wonders* The illustrations, several of which are from the pencil of Gustave Doré, reproduce scenes in this country, as well as in foreign lands. also in press: I. Wonders op the Heavens. V. Acoustics. II. Wonders op Architecture. VI. The Human Frame. III. Bottom of the Ocean. VII. Lighthouses. IV. The Sun. By Guillemin. VIII. The MOON. By Guillemin. &c, &c, &c. Spmmm Slhtstmttons FKOM ©Ijp IÏÏUSÏPEÏP& fcttrarg of fflon&prs. 8 Illustrated Library of Wonders. THE WONDERS OF OPTICS. By F. MARION. With over seventy engravings, and a colored frontispiece. One vol. i2mo. Price $i go. Ii For description of book, see page 2. Illustrated Library of Wonders, THUNDER AND LIGHTNING. By W. De FONVIELLE. With 39 engravings, nearly all full-page. One volume, i2mo, $x 50. Bell-ringer struck by Lightning. For description of book, see page 2. IO Illustrated Library of Wonders. THE WONDERS OF HEAT. By ACHILLE CAZIN. With 90 illustrations, and a colored frontispiece. One vol. i2mo, $1 50. For description of book, see page 3. Illustrated Library of Wonders. ii THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS, WITH ILLUSTRATIVE ANECDOTES. With 54 illustrations. One volume, i2mo, $x 50. THE DRAKE LEADING THE LADY TO THE RESCUE. For description of book, see page 4. 12 Illustrated Library of Wonders. ADVENTURES ON THE GREAT HUNTING GROUNDS OF THE WORLD. Illustrated with 22 woodcuts. One volume, i2mo., $1 50. For description of book, see page 5. Illustrated Library of Wonders. *3 EGYPT 3,300 YEARS AGO. By F. DE LANOYE. With 40 illustrations. One vo'ume, i2mo, $1 50. The Sphinx of Rameses II. (according to the Sphinx at the Louvre) For description of book, see page 4. 14 Illustrated Library of Wonders. POMPEII AND THE POMPEIANS. By MARC MONNIER. With 30 Illustrations. One volume, i2mo, $1 50. For description of book, see page 5. Illustrated Library of Wonders. IS ACOUSTICS; OR, THE WONDERS OF SOUND. With ioo illustrations. One vol. i2mo. Price, $i 50. EFFECT OF MOTION ON THE SHAHPNESS OF SOUND. i6 Illustrated Library of Wonders. THE SUBLIME IN NATURE. From Descriptions of Celebrated Writers and Travellers. Illustrated with 38 full-page engravings. One vol. i2mo. Price, $1 50. V A GORGE IN THE PYRENEES. For description of book, see page 5. QKÛ LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 009 502 395 2 # H n Jam H fttti ftHttltltiltltttx] mSBÊ H H I «fa HI 1 III M 1 888: m mm Jf-f-f-f- ■ mm mÊËBÊÊ — ■I Hi