and judging from what we see in Pompeii, there was very little ventilation. As in India there is an outer courtyard for men, and an inner courtyard for women; the men's apartments, small and without windows, surround the outer courtyard, and the women's apartments still smaller and closer, surround the inner courtyard. To come out of these dark cells and sit in the courtyard, was apparently the only way of enjoying a little of free air and heaven's light.
The streets are paved with huge blocks of stone scarcely levelled, as one sees in many ancient Indian towns. The widest street would be called a lane in a modern town, and is just wide enough for two carts, while most of the streets were barely wide enough for one. Over these narrow and rough-paved streets, which served as drains as well as streets, were witnessed, 2000 years ago, riotous processions, joyous and religious festitivities, assemblages of thousands of human beings, warriors from distant climes, matrons and vestal virgins in their gala costumes, senators and guards, thinkers and poets, and a miscellaneous and vociferous multitude, all proud to call themselves Roman citizens, the conquerors of the world! What tales could the very stones of Pompeii tell!
But the stones and the houses are not altogether silent, there are no more valuable materials of history in its true sense, than these silent ruins. They tell us how the ancients lived and died, how they assembled in their forum, worshipped in their temples, gathered in thousands in the amphitheatres. We see the houses where they
