the rolls, partly of parchment, and partly of the finest Egyptian papyrus, each provided with a label, on which is seen in bright letters, the name of the author, and the titles of his work. On the other side of the library is a larger room, where a number of learned slaves are occupied in transcribing, with nimble hand, the works of illustrious Greeks, and the more ancient Roman authors, both for the supply of the library, and of those friends to whom its proprietor may generously communicate its treasures. Others are engaged in giving the rolls the most agreeable exterior, glueing the separate strips of papyrus together, drawing the red lines which divided the different columns, and writing the title in the same color. Others are occupied in smoothing them with pumicestone and blackening the edges; fastening ivory tops on the sticks round which the rolls are wrapped, and dyeing bright-red or yellow, the parchment which is to serve as a wrapper. The dining-room, which we now enter, has in it the couch on which the family and guests recline at meals. Each one, in order to feed himself, lies on his breast, and stretches his hand toward the table; but when his hunger is satisfied, he turns on his left side, leaning on his elbow. And here is the bed-room. The bedstead, made of costly wood, veneered with ivory, is high, and entered by means of steps. Its feet are of silver; the mattresses and pillows are filled with feathers; the counterpane is purple, and embroidered with beautiful figures in gold; the pillows are covered with magnificent tapestry. But while we have lingered in these apartments, the morning hours have fled, and the vestibule is already thronged with humble visitors, who come to salute their patron, and solicit their share of the diurnal sportula, consisting either of a portion of food, or a trifling sum of money. Amidst the motley group which pressed in, all eager to salute their lord, were not only the poor, who needed his bounty, but young men of family, poets and idlers, glad of any chance to get into a house of distinction; and withal, a few real friends among the rest, attached to their patron by acts of kindness. But after the adventures of the last night, he is in no mood for a general levee, and, sending a slave with a cold apology, he dismisses the whole tribe; and will only be "at home" during the morning, in his dressing-room, to his particular friends. Let us look for a moment on the attiring of such a noble. A slave approaches with the tunica; he is followed by two others bearing the toga, already folded in the approved fashion; while a fourth places the purple dress-shoes near the seat. An attendant first girds the under garment afresh, then throws over his master the upper tunica, taking particular care that the broad strip of purple woven into it may fall exactly across the center of the breast. He then hangs one end of the toga over the left shoulder, so as to fall far below the knee, and cover with its folds the whole of the arm down to the hand. The right arm remains at liberty, as the voluminous garment is passed at its broadest part under the arm, and then brought forward in front; the umbo being laid obliquely across the breast, so that the well-rounded sinus almost reached the knee, and the lower half ended at the middle of the shin-bone; whilst the remaining portion is once more thrown over the left shoulder, and hung down over the arm and back of the person in a mass of broad and regular folds. The attendant then reaches for his lord the polished hand-mirror, the thick silver plate of which reflects every image with perfect clearness. The noble casts but a single glance on it, allows his feet to be installed into the tall shoes, latched with fourfold thongs, and places on his fingers the rings he had taken off over night. He is now prepared to receive his friends, or to partake of his first meal. In early times the mode of living in Rome was extremely simple. The common food of the people consisted then of a kind of porridge made of flour, and of fruit from the fields. In one of his pictures of this period, Juvenal mentions the toil-worn sons of the household coming home to the ample supper of puls, the porridge just referred to, smoking for them in huge vessels. Flesh was used very sparingly. Such was the mode of living down to about the time of Plautus. So precious was wine considered in the time of the Samnites, that mere drops of it formed libations to the gods; and Mecenius, who killed his wife because she had drank some wine without his knowledge, was not censured. Other circumstances of the Romans corresponded with their simplicity in food. The majority of the people dwelt in small cottages or huts, and slept on straw. The streets were not paved, but cleanliness pervaded the people as a dictate of their religion. In A great change took place subsequently, which is traced by Plautus to the sacrifices and public banquets; but ascribed by Livy to the wars in Asia. describing the luxury introduced from thence, Livy mentions feasts prepared with great care and expense, the employment of private cooks, and the regularity of the culinary art. But the living of these times was far removed from extravagance. It did not refuse to mingle with the gruel and pulse of an earlier day some meats and delicacies, nor yet the mellow wines of Campania; but as yet there was no gross departure from simplicity and temperance. The period of the empire, however, presents a life entirely different. Rome appeared as the conqueror of the world; and the unbounded increase of riches brought along with it all the refinements of luxury and vice. The same causes that had wrought a change in government, had given a new form and character to domestic life. There no longer existed the early facility of living, growing out of simple tastes and habits. Artificial wants and desires had come into being, a whole system of fashions was in full domination, and all who would be held in social consequence, must strive to adapt themselves to their new social conditions, and merge all other cares in anxious efforts to provide the means and secure the appearance of what was deemed a respectable existence. The jentaculum, or breakfast, was not a regular meal, as the term would seem to indicate, nor does it appear to have been generally partaken of. It seems to have been taken at a very early hour in the morning. It consisted chiefly of bread, to which cheese and dried fruit were sometimes added. The first proper meal was the prandium, or luncheon. Horace thus describes his usual course :— "I sleep till ten; then take a walk, or choose And when the sun pours down his fiercest fire, According to the same authority, fish was a requisition at the prandium; the choicest honey and wines were sometimes added. The cœna, or dinner, was the principal meal. Of the Roman's first course, Horace says: "Around him lay whatever could excite, With pungent force, the jaded appetite; Rapes, lettuce, radishes, anchovy brine, With skerrets, and the lees of Coan wine." The second course, for which the first was a provocative, consisted of dishes in great variety. Among the luxuries may be mentioned the guinea-hen, the pheasant, and the thrush, which were held in higher repute than any other birds; the peacock, the duck, the woodcock, the flamingo, and the turtle. Still greater were the varieties of fish; but the turbot, the sturgeon, and the mullet, were the most esteemed. Of solid meat, the flesh of swine was deemed the most savory, especially the suckingpig; but venison was in great repute. Condiments-as the muria, made from the tunny fish; the garum sociorum, made from the intestines of mackerel; and the alec, a sort of brine-were added to most of the dishes. Several kinds of fungi are mentioned, which either formed dishes of themselves, or were the garniture for others. The third course was the dessert, which consisted of fruits, as dates, almonds, and dried grapes; and of sweetmeats and confections, as cheese-cakes, almond-cakes, and tarts. In the times of Cicero, the usual hour for dinner was about three o'clock, which seems to have been observed by the higher classes long after the Augustan age. But probably a variety of hours prevailed in the different ranks of society. Horace and Mæcenas dined about sunset. The dinner was set out in rooms answering to our dining-rooms. Among the rich these were fitted up with great magnificence. In the middle, there were three couches corresponding in shape to the square tables, as the long semi-circular couches did to the oval ones. per-room of Nero was constructed like a theater, with shifting scenes, which were changed at every course. The sup Isidore speaks of the ancient Romans as always sitting at their meals. The ladies sat at table long after the recumbent position had become common among the men. But at a later date, the practice of various forms; while the declivity sloping gently down, bore figures skillfully cut out of the box-trees, of animals opposite to each other, as if prepared for attack, and then gradually became lost in the acanthus, which covered in its verdure the plain at its foot. After dinner, it was customary for the Romans, as it was for the Greeks, to have a symposium, in which they were joined by many who had not previously been present. The customs in the two nations connected with drinking, nearly coincided. They alike reclined on couches, and were crowned with garlands of flowers. There was a master of the revels, to whom all were subjected, who regulated the whole of the entertainment. Servants, generally young slaves, according to invariable usage, added water to the wine, and presented it to the company. The cups were carried round from right to left; the company usually drank to the health of one another; and they continued to do so as long as the master of the revels permitted. Music and dancing accompanied the symposium; riddles were proposed; games and amusements were introduced; and libations were poured out to the gods. A scarcely credible degree of luxury prevailed in Rome, exceeded by that of no country or period in modern times. No ingenuity of invention was left unemployed, nor any prodigality of expense refused, in procuring the choicest and costliest dainties. Sometimes these were furnished, not for real use, but because they gave a dinner additional splendor. The Roman epicures, moreover, considered it a great object to eat the largest possible quantity of food, and hence they resorted to the most unnatural means of increasing their appetites. The golden saying, "We must eat to live, and not live to eat," was absolutely inverted at Rome. The scenes which too frequently transpired at such entertainments, find an appropriate description in the words of an inspired apostle : "The time past of our life may suffice us to have wrought the will of the Gentiles, when we walked in lasciviousness, lusts, excess of wine, revelings, banquetings, and abominable idolatries." 1 Peter iv, 3. Behind the colonnade, after the fashion of the city houses, was an atrium, not splendidly, but tastefully adorned, the elegant pavement of which, formed to imitate lozenges, in green, white, and black stone, contrasted pleasantly with the red marble that covered the walls. From this was entered a small oval peristyle, an excellent resort in unfavorable weather; for the spaces between the pillars were closed up with large panes of the clearest tale, through which the eye discovered the pleasant verdure of the soft mossy carpet, which covered the open space in the center, and was rendered ever flourishing by the spray of the fountain. Just behind this was the regular court of the house, of an equally agreeable aspect, in which stood a large marble basin, surrounded by all sorts of shrubs and dwarf-trees. On this court abutted a grand eating-hall, built beyond the whole line of the house, through the long windows of which, reaching like doors to the ground, a view was obtained toward the country in front, and on the sides into the gardens; while in the rear, a passage opened through to the cavædium, peristyle, atrium, and colonnade into the open air. This saloon was bordered on the right by different chambers, which, from their northerly aspect, presented a pleasant abode in the heat of summer, and more to the east lay the regular sitting and sleeping rooms. The first were built outward semicircularly, in order to catch the beams of the morning light, and retain those of the midday sun. The internal arrangements were simple, but comfortable, and in perfect accordance with the green prospect around; for on the marble basement were painted branches, reaching inward as it were from the outside, and upon them colored birds, so skillfully executed that they appeared not to sit but to flutter. On the opposite side, which enjoyed the full warmth of the evening sun, were the bath-rooms, and the sphæristerium, adapted not merely to the game of ball, but nearly every description of corporeal ex ercise. Lastly, at both ends of the front colonnade, forming the entrance, rose turret-shaped buildings, in the different stories of which were small chambers, affording an extensive view of the smiling plains. The villa attached to a large farm had two courts. At the entrance to the outer, was the abode of the villicus, who had charge of the whole farm except the cat- | tle. Over the gateway was the room of the procurator, a kind of under-steward. The villica, or housekeeper, under whose orders the female slaves were employed in providing food and clothes for the family, had another room. The inferior slaves lodged in one great room, and the sick had a separate apartment. The lodgings of the freemen had a southern aspect. The inner court of the villa was occupied chiefly by the horses, cattle, and other live stock. Here also were the stables and stalls. Both the outer and inner court had chambers for the slaves, fronting the south. The place where culprits were kept in chains was underground, and lighted by several high and narrow windows. The description given by Pliny of the garden attached to his Tusculan villa may serve for any Roman garden. In the front of the porticus, there was a xystus, or flat piece of ground, divided into flowerbeds of different shapes by borders of box; and similar flower-beds were arranged in other parts. Some of these were raised so as to form terraces, and their sloping sides were planted with evergreens or creepers. But the most striking features were lines of large trees, among which the plane-tree was conspicuous; walks formed by closely-clipped hedges of box, yew, cypress, and other evergreens; beds of acanthus, and rows of trees, especially of vines. These were interspersed with statues, pyramids, summer-houses, and fountains. The trunks of the trees, and the parts of buildings visible from the garden, were often covered with ivy. The Romans trained trees very fantastically, tying, twisting, and cutting them, as well as shrubs, into the figures of letters, ships, and animals. This custom was called the ars topiaria, and one of the higher class of slaves, named topiarius, was maintained for its practice. The principal flowers known, were vio lets, roses, the crocus, the narcissus, the lily, the iris, the poppy, the gladiolus, and the amaranth. Conservatories and hothouses are not mentioned till the Christian era. In every garden there was a space set apart for vegetables. Flowers and plants were often kept in the central space of the peristyle, on the roofs, and in the windows of the houses. So fond were the Romans of a garden, that they frequently painted their walls with trees, fountains, birds, and similar objects, especially where sufficient space for culture was wanting. Places for exercise were attached to the Roman garden; for physical training was a primary feature in the genuine "classical education." This was taken gently, in an avenue shaded by trees, called the gestatio; the hippodromus was a place for running, or horse exercise. The latter was in the form of a circus, and it consisted of several paths divided by boxhedges, ornamented with topiary-work, and surrounded by trees of the larger kind. Such then were some of the features of domestic life in Rome. Let us now accompany our author in a survey of some of its public, its architectural splendors. Many of these are doubtless familiar to the reader by vague descriptions, and also by pictorial views, and have been so from his childhood; but we may refresh both his memory and his eye by the reproduction of the grand old images from the fuller outlines of our author. The greatest number, as well as the most considerable of the Roman edifices, were raised by the emperors, whose command of men and money was alike unbounded. It was the boast of Augustus, that he found the city brick, and left it marble; and for this there appears to have been substantial reason. His immediate successors, Tiberius and Caligula, were as little concerned to imitate the founder of the empire in improving the city, as in governing the state; but under Claudius some considerable works were completed. The name of Nero stands inseparably associated with that terrific conflagration, which, lasting for six days, left, of the fourteen regions into which the city was divided, only four entire. According to Tacitus, three were leveled with the ground, and in the remaining seven, there were but scanty relics, broken, and half burned. The monuments of Grecian and Roman art, the trophies of the Punic and Gallic wars, the most celebrated temples and magnificent palaces, were now involved in one common destruction. Nero threw the whole blame of the catastrophe on the obscure sect of the Christians, against whom he instigated a bitter persecution; but it was believed that, being passionately fond of theatrical amusements, he originated it from a wish-monstrous indeed-to have a vivid representation of the burning of Troy. Soon after the conflagration, Nero set about rebuilding the city on an improved plan, with wider and more regular streets. On that part of the site of the ruined city which lies between the Palatine and the Esquiline hills, a space which is more than a mile in breadth, Nero erected his celebrated "Golden House," the name of which was derived from the edifice being tiled with the precious metal. vast extent, its varied magnificence, and its highly-ornamented grounds, were such that, apart from the testimony of history, the whole account might be deemed fabulous. Its The palace itself consisted of splendid edifices, like those of a city in miniature. It was decorated in the most gorgeous style; the marble sheathing of the walls being profusely decked with gold, with mother-of-pearl, then deemed still more precious, and with a profusion of the costliest stones. The ceilings and wood-work were inlaid with ivory and gold. The roof of the grand banqueting-hall had a rotative orrery, and from it as from an atmosphere there descended perfumed waters. The various wings of the edifice were united by galleries, each a mile in length. Within its inclosure were spacious fields, groves, orchards, and vineyards, together with artificial lakes, hills, and dense woods, all being encompassed by an ample portico. The whole was designed by Severus and Celer, distinguished architects of that period; but the vastness of the plan prevented its completion during the life of Nero. The means, however, for carrying out his various purposes, were obtained by appression, extortion, and robbery. The provinces were plundered to such an extent as to bring the empire to the verge of dissolution; while the idle populace were fed and amused with their spoils. One of the first items of expenditure in the reign of Otho, was for the completion of the "Golden House," which, however, did not long continue entire, the memorial of Nero's tyranny and extravagance. It was in part destroyed by Vespasian, who commenced on its site the celebrated Colosseum. Vespasian established a picture gallery in the Temple of Peace, and much employment must have been found for the artists of the period in the arch of Titus and the Colosseum. The last flourishing period of the arts was the reign of Hadrian, though the works of that age are less distinguished for sublimity than for neatness and finish. Roman art ultimately fell with the Western Empire, and of it there remains only a ruin. THE PANTHEON. Proceeding by the Corso toward the Tiber, and threading our way through narrow crowded streets, we emerge into the little Piazza del Rotonda, at the bottom of which stands the Pantheon. Familiar with the name and form of this venerable fabric from our youth, it cannot but be approached with emotions which no other memorial of Roman antiquity can awaken. The certainty that it is a genuine monument of the proudest period of the empire, when the science of architecture had reached perfection, exhibiting in this single edifice the combination of solid gran |