to this day, by throwing pears up into the air and catching them in his
mouth as they fell. One of the fruits choked him by descending too far
into his throat. But the Neapolitan youngsters perform the feat with
figs, which render it infinitely less dangerous.

We are, then, going to visit a small city subordinate to Rome, much less
than Marseilles is to Paris, and a little more so than Geneva is to
Berne. Pompeii had almost nothing to do with the Senate or the Emperor.
The old tongue--the Oscan--had ceased to be official, and the
authorities issued their orders in Latin. The residents of the place
were Roman citizens, Rome being recognized as the capital and
fatherland. The local legislation was made secondary to Roman
legislation. But, excepting these reservations, Pompeii formed a little
world, apart, independent, and complete in itself. She had a miniature
Senate, composed of decurions; an aristocracy in epitome, represented by
the _Augustales_, answering to knights; and then came her _plebs_ or
common people. She chose her own pontiffs, convoked the comitiæ,
promulged municipal laws, regulated military levies, collected taxes; in
fine selected her own immediate rulers--her consuls (the duumvirs
dispensing justice), her ediles, her quæstors, etc. Hence, it is not a
provincial city that we are to survey, but a petty State which had
preserved its autonomy within the unity of the Empire, and was, as has
been cleverly said, a miniature of Rome.

Another circumstance imparts a peculiar interest to Pompeii. That city,
which seemed to have no good luck, had been violently shaken by
earthquake in the year B.C. 63. Several temples had toppled down along
with the colonnade of the Forum, the great Basilica, and the theatres,
without counting the tombs and houses. Nearly every family fled from the
place, taking with them their furniture and their statuary; and the