churchyard of old St. Pancras's, in which some of my nearest of kin have reposed for more than half a century, is given up for railway accommodation.
It may be said, And if we interrogate the past, shall we not discover that the exigencies of an increasing population exacted similar sacrifices of reverential feeling? I answer, No. That feeling would have over-ridden every other consideration. Immense was the growth of population at the Augustan period in Rome. But the streets of tombs, which began outside every gate, were never allowed to be touched; the Appian Way continues to preserve even at the present day the resting-places of the Scipios and Metelli. We have lost all record of their homes, the latest posterity retains that of their tombs. Even the Columbaria of the Freedmen, or servants, of Augustus remain inviolate.
But such a new and startling evidence of this reverence for what is monumental or sacred, in those times, has lately come to light, that you must pardon me, if I here introduce it as an illustration of my subject. The imperial house or palace was begun by Augustus, who preserved the simplicity of republican habits, as a modest mansion, on the Palatine hill of Rome. Each successive emperor added to it, till Nero, not finding one hill sufficient to satisfy the cravings of his extravagance, burnt down the dwellings on two neighbouring hills, and raised on their ruins his Golden House.
The Palatine is now divided between three principal proprietors—the English College, which owns the Circus Maximus; the nuns of the Visitation;
