me,
which in summer would be past five; but for a far greater proportion of
days would be near four in Rome, except for one or two of the emperors,
whom the mere business attached to their unhappy station kept sometimes
dinnerless till six. And so entirely was a Roman the creature of ceremony,
that a national mourning would probably have been celebrated, and the "sad
augurs" would have been called in to expiate the prodigy, had the general
dinner lingered beyond four.

But, meantime, what has our friend been about since perhaps six or seven in
the morning? After paying his little homage to his _patronus_, in what
way has he fought with the great enemy Time since then? Why, reader, this
illustrates one of the most interesting features in the Roman character.
The Roman was the idlest of men. "Man and boy," he was "an idler in the
land." He called himself and his pals "rerum dominos, gentemque togatam;"
_the gentry that wore the toga_. Yes, and a pretty affair that "toga" was.
Just figure to yourself, reader, the picture of a hardworking man, with
horny hands like our hedgers, ditchers, weavers, porters, &c., setting to
work on the highroad in that vast sweeping toga, filling with a strong
gale like the mainsail of a frigate. Conceive the roars with which this
magnificent figure would be received into the bosom of a poor-house
detachment sent out to attack the stones on some new line of road, or a
fatigue party of dustmen sent upon secret service. Had there been nothing
left as a memorial of the Romans but that one relic--their immeasurable
toga,[9]--we should have known that they were born and bred to idleness. In
fact, except in war, the Roman never did anything at all but sun himself.
_Ut se apricaret_ was the final cause of peace in his opinion; in literal
truth, that he might make an _apricot_ of himself. The public rations at
all times supported the poorest inhabitant of Rome if he were a citizen.
Hence it was that Hadrian was so astonished with the spectacle of
Alexandria, "_civitas opulenta, faecunda, in qua nemo vivat otiosus_." Here
first he saw the spectacle of a vast city, second only to Rome, where every
man had something to do; "_podagrosi quod agant habent; habent caeci quod
faciant; ne chiragrici_" (those with gout in the fingers) "_apud eos otiosi
vivunt_." No poor rates levied upon the rest of the world for the benefit
of their own paupers were there distributed _gratis_. The prodigious
spectacle (so it se