776 The Architectural Review and American Builders' Journal. [June, Canem" in good large letters under the animal gave me, together with his chain and look, a bad opinion of himself and a good opinion of his master, the " Tragic Poet," who doubtless thought that dogs ought to be banished from tragedy. On the whole, these houses would not have suited either 3 r our taste or that of the present age. The cold floors, the ab- sence of chimneys, the substitution of the brazier for the hospitable hearth would not have accorded with 3' our notions. I am of the same way of think- ing. If we had been Pompeiians, we should have undoubtedly boarded with the baker who had a big chimne3 r and a big bakeoven. But to see the genius of Pompeii one must see the public edi- fices. Evei'y where in them, the Roman idea of vastness, strength, and endurance is plainly visible, while, at the same time, the ornamental figures, such as the Bacchantes and the Fauns and the frescoes of arabesques, show the domi- naney of the Grecian taste. Around the Forum most of the temples are situated. Here are the temples of Ju- piter, of Fortune, of Venus, and also the Pantheon and the Basihcia. And grand they must have been, with their courts and statues, their pillars and porticos, for the} are grand even now as ruins. Some of the altars, with their panels of carved figures, are surpassing!}- fine. As I walked around them, or leaned upon their marble slabs, now bare and cold, and read their inscriptions, it was an hour for the vivid recall of those facts which these s3 r mbols suggested. The whole scene at this point was most sug- gestive. Situated at a distance of 400 3'ards from the Herculaneum Gate, the Forum commanded a brilliant view of Vesuvius and the Apennines, while near at hand broke the incoming waves of the finest bay in the world. Slopes and plains ; terraces that nourished the fruit- ful vine ; fields where nature was prodi- gal of all her choicest gifts, and art was equally lavish with her magnificence ; all lay as a gorgeous outspread before and around. Through what an atmosphere, so soft, so clear, so transparent, these things were seen, and over all what a fir- mament bent with its arch, varying in hue from horizon to zenith, and shedding down upon land and sea the same chang- ing tints of splendor, no one can ever know unless he has stood as I stood in winter on this spot, and has seen for himself the most resplendent panorama that the earth presents. But the hours were passing too fast for quiet contem- plation, I saw the baths, each apartment almost perfect, the series of cold, tepid, and steam baths giving a complete view of the arrangements. Then to the theatre (tragic) which accommodated 5,000 per- sons, and less injured than other build- ings ; then to the comic theatre close by ; then to the great amphitheatre, holding 10,000 spectators. This is the third amphitheatre I have examined, and in some minor details differs from the others. After this tour I glanced at the barracks, a large enclosure, 184 ft. by 137 ft. One thing of leading interest only remained, and this was the process'of excavation. The depth of the dirt which buried the city is from twenty to twenty-five feet. It is of a dark gray color, and is rather like fine gravel than ashes. It pulver- izes easily; not much effort seemed necessaiy for its removal. Along the level plain, resting upon the unexca- vated part, a simple railroad has been constructed, by which the dirt is carried off. Only about one-seventh of the cit3 T has been disinterred. How would you feel if 3 Y ou stood on a plain of green grass and looked down into rooms and halls with frescoed sides watching a column as it rose into the light lost 1800 years ago, and seeing the marble tables around which beauty and talent and wit used to gather, lifted up and out into a recovered world ? How would 3-011 feel if 3-ou beheld every sort of do- mestic article — common implements, furniture, kitchen utensils, toilet bottles, candelabra, vases, jewel iy, all dug up hy spade and shovel ? And then skele-