goblets of
bronze damascened with silver; those delicately chiselled cups; those
glasses and bottles which Vesuvius has preserved for us; that jug, the
handle of which is formed of a satyr bending backward to rub his
shoulders against the edge of the vase; those vessels of all shapes on
which eagles perch or swans and serpents writhe; those cups of baked
clay adorned with so many arabesques and inviting descriptions.
"Friend," says one of them "drink of my contents."

"Friend of my soul, this goblet sip!"

rhymes the modern bard.

What a mass of curious and costly things! What is the use of rummaging
in books! With the museums of Naples before us, we can reconstruct all
the triclinia of Pompeii at a glance.

There, then, are the guests, gay, serene, reclining or leaning on their
elbows on the three couches. The table is before them, but only to be
looked at, for slaves are continually moving to and fro, from one to the
other, serving every guest with a portion of each dish on a slice of
bread. Pansa daintily carries the delicate morsel offered him to his
mouth with his fingers, and flings the bread under the table, where a
slave, in crouching attitude, gathers up all the debris of the repast.
No forks are used, for the ancients were unacquainted with them. At the
most, they knew the use of the spoon or cochlea, which they employed in
eating eggs. After each dish they dipped their fingers in a basin
presented to them, and then wiped them upon a napkin that they carried
with them as we take our handkerchiefs with us. The wealthiest people
had some that were very costly and which they threw into the fire when
they had been soiled; the fire cleansed without burning them. Refined
people wiped their fingers on the hair of the cupbearers,--another
Oriental usage. Recollect Jesus and Mary Magdalene.

At length, the repast being concluded, the guests took off their
wreaths, which they stripped of their leaves into a goblet that was
passed around the circle for every one to taste, and this ceremony
concluded the libations.

I have endeavored to describe the supper of a rich Pompeian and exhibit
his dwelling as it would appear reconstructed and re-occupied. Reduce
its dimensions and simplify it as much as possible by suppressing the
peristyle, the columns, the paintings, the tablinum, the exedra, and all
the rooms devoted to pleasure or vanity, and you will have the house of
a poor man. On the contrary, if you develop i