t and purified specimen of the 'table talk' of a Roman mob
which we have here ventured to exhibit, the reader will perceive that
extraordinary mixture of servility and insolence which characterised
not only the conversation but the actions of the lower orders of
society at the period of which we write. Oppressed and degraded, on
the one hand, to a point of misery scarcely conceivable to the public
of the present day, the poorer classes in Rome were, on the other,
invested with such a degree of moral license, and permitted such an
extent of political privilege, as flattered their vanity into blinding
their sense of indignation. Slaves in their season of servitude,
masters in their hours of recreation, they presented, as a class, one
of the most amazing social anomalies ever existing in any nation; and
formed, in their dangerous and artificial position, one of the most
important of the internal causes of the downfall of Rome.

The steps of the public baths were almost as crowded as the space
before the neighbouring building. Incessant streams of people, either
entering or departing, poured over the broad flagstones of its marble
colonnades. This concourse, although composed in some parts of the same
class of people as that assembled before the palace, presented a
certain appearance of respectability. Here and there--chequering the
dusky monotony of masses of dirty tunics--might be discerned the
refreshing vision of a clean robe, or the grateful indication of a
handsome person. Little groups, removed as far as possible from the
neighbourhood of the noisy plebeians, were scattered about, either
engaged in animated conversation, or listlessly succumbing to the
lassitude induced by a recent bath. An instant's attention to the
subject of discourse among the more active of these individuals will
aid us in pursuing our social revelations.

The loudest voice among the speakers at this particular moment
proceeded from a tall, thin, sinister-looking man, who was haranguing a
little group of listeners with great vehemence and fluency.

'I tell you, Socius,' said he, turning suddenly upon one of his
companions, 'that, unless new slave-laws are made, my calling is at an
end. My patron's estate requires incessant supplies of these wretches.
I do my best to satisfy the demand, and the only result of my labour
is, that the miscreants either endanger my life, or fly with impunity
to join the gangs of robbers infesting our woods.'