d stood was now a level plain of white ashes, so deep that not a
house-top could be seen, and only the upper walls of the great theatre
and the amphitheatre were visible. Digging into the fleecy ashes, many
of them recovered articles of value, while thieves also may have reaped
a rich harvest. The emperor Titus even undertook to clear and rebuild
the city, but soon abandoned the task as too costly a one, and for many
centuries afterwards Pompeii remained buried in mud and ashes, lost to
the world, its site forgotten, and the forms of many of its old
inhabitants preserved intact in the bed of ashes in which they had
perished.

It was only in 1748 that its site was recognized, and only since 1860
has there been a systematic effort to dig the old city out of its grave.
At present nearly one-half--the most important half--of Pompeii has been
laid bare, and we are able to see for ourselves how the Romans lived.
The narrow streets, fourteen to twenty-four feet wide, are well paved
with blocks of lava, which are cut into deep ruts by the wheels of
chariots that rolled over them two thousand years ago. On each side rise
the walls of houses, two, and sometimes three, stories in height, and
some of them richly painted and adorned, while walls and columns are
brightly painted in red, blue, and yellow, which must have given the old
city a gay and festive hue.

The ornaments, articles of furniture, and domestic utensils found in
these houses go far to teach us the modes of life in Roman times, and
reveal to us that the Romans possessed many comforts and conveniences
for which we had not given them credit. Even the forms of the
inhabitants have in many cases been recovered. Though these forms have
long vanished, the hollows made by their bodies in the hardened ashes in
which they lay and slowly decayed have remained unchanged, and by
pouring liquid plaster of Paris into these cavities perfect casts have
been obtained, showing the exact shape of face and body, and even every
fold of the clothes of these victims of Vesuvius eighteen hundred years
ago. They are not altogether pleasant to see, for they express the agony
of those caught in the swift descending death of the falling volcanic
shroud, but as tenants of an archaeological museum they stand unrivalled
in lifelike fidelity.

Herculaneum, which was buried to a depth of from forty to one hundred
feet, and with wet material which has grown much harder than the ashes
of Pompeii, h