and grounds for promenade and exercise, although some of the finest shops stood very close to where they stand to-day, in that Flaminian Way which is now called the Corso of Humbert.  On one side below the Palatine Hill, space was taken up by the vast Circus or racing-ground; on the other lay the public places known as the Fora.  It was left for the poorer inhabitants to crowd themselves into the valleys of the town, either between the Forum and the spurs of the several hills which trend towards the centre—­up under Quirinal, Viminal, Esquiline, or Caelian—­to the left behind the buildings as you now go from the bottom of the Forum to the Colosseum; or between the Forum and the Tiber in the low-lying ground called the Velabrum and there-abouts; or else across the river in that “Transtiberine” region which still bears the name of Trastevere.

If, therefore, it is asked what may have been the Population of Neronian Rome, it need cause no surprise if the number should appear comparatively small to one who is accustomed to our huge modern towns.  Rome had never been a seat of manufactures.  Its wealth and luxury came almost wholly from its empire, and it was emphatically a city for the rich and ruling classes.  In Nero’s day it was still growing, and even in its fullest times it is doubtful if the population ever exceeded or even reached a million and a quarter.  Perhaps for the year 64 we may most safely put it down at about 750,000.

* * * * *

Now suppose yourself to be standing at F in the recognised centre of Roman life, the “Roman Forum.”  Here, before we begin our rapid exploration of the city, it is well to clear our minds of one false notion which too commonly prevails.  Think of any modern town you please, and remember that, whatever may be the accumulation of architectural magnificence around any given spot, the people of that town treat it all with familiarity and without any waste of sentiment.  They will set up their shops or stalls wherever they are allowed; they will carry on their traffic and their amusements; they will saunter and sit on steps and misbehave without feeling oppressed by any appreciable awe of their surroundings.  So was it, and even more so, in ancient Rome.  The fact that there were shrines or public buildings on all sides did not prevent the Romans from loitering and loafing in the Forum, from sitting on the steps of a temple or a basilica, or leaning against its columns or statues, or playing at a sort of draughts or of backgammon on its marble platforms—­the lines to put the “men” upon are here and there still visible upon the pavements—­or even scratching a name or a drawing on a pillar.  In certain parts the Forum was alive with the bustle of financial business and, doubtless under certain limitations, with the traffic of the pedlar.  Curiosities were exhibited, the crier shouted his advertisements, and, in short, the place was almost as freely used for the vulgar purposes of ordinary life as for the dignified gatherings and ceremonies which to our minds appear so much more appropriate to it.  Though we are not yet dealing with the social life of Rome, whether indoor or outdoor, it seems advisable to make this observation before proceeding.