starfish. But, as a rule, the streets ran parallel or at right angles
to each other and the blocks of houses which they enclosed were either
square or oblong.

Much variety is noticeable, however, in details. Sometimes the outline
of the ancient town was square or almost square, the house-blocks were
of the same shape, and the plan of the town was indistinguishable from
a chess-board. Or, instead of squares, oblong house-blocks formed a
pattern not strictly that of a chess-board but geometrical and
rectangular. Often the outline of the town was irregular and merely
convenient, but the streets still kept, so far as they could, to a
rectangular plan. Sometimes, lastly, the rectangular planning was
limited to a few broad thoroughfares, while the smaller side-streets,
were utterly irregular. Other variations may be seen in the prominence
granted or refused to public and especially to sacred buildings. In
some towns full provision was made for these; ample streets with
stately vistas led up to them, and open spaces were left from which
they could be seen with advantage. In others there were neither vistas
nor open spaces nor even splendid buildings.

A measure of historical continuity can be traced in the occurrence of
these variations. The towns of the earlier Greeks were stately enough
in their public buildings and principal thoroughfares, but they
revealed a half-barbaric spirit in their mean side-streets and
unlovely dwellings. In the middle of the fifth century men rose above
this ideal. They began to recognize private houses and to attempt an
adequate grouping of their cities as units capable of a single plan.
But they did not carry this conception very far. The decorative still
dominated the useful. Broad straight streets were still few and were
laid out mainly as avenues for processions and as ample spaces for