Most of them were christened, under the old system, by the august or illustrious personages before whom they were dug out for the first time.  Thus, we have at Pompeii the house of Francis II., that of Championnet, that of Joseph II.; those of the Queen of England, the King of Prussia, the Grand Duke of Tuscany; that of the Emperor, and those of the Empress and of the Princes of Russia; that of Goethe, of the Duchess de Berry, of the Duke d’Aumale—­I skip them by scores.  The whole Gotha Almanac might there be passed in review.  This determined, ramble through the streets at will, without troubling yourself about their names, as these change often at the caprice of antiquaries and their guides.

The narrowness of these streets will surprise you; and if you come hither to look for a Broadway, you had better have remained at home.  What we call great arteries of traffic were unknown to the Pompeians, who cut only small paved paths between their houses—­for the sake of health, they said.  We entertain different views of this question of salubrity.

The greatest width of a Pompeian street is seven yards, and there are some which are comprised, sidewalks and all, within a space of two yards and a half.  These sidewalks are raised, very narrow, and paved very variously, according to the wealth or the fancy of the proprietors, who had to keep them in good order.  Here are handsome stone flags; further on merely the soil beaten down; in front of the next house are marble slabs, and here and there patches of opus signinum, a sort of rudimentary mosaic, to which we shall refer further on.  These sidewalks were intersected with curbstones, often pierced with holes—­in front of shops, for instance—­perhaps for tethering the cows and donkeys of the peasants who every morning brought the citizens milk or baskets of vegetables to their own doors.  Between the sidewalks was hollowed out the street, paved with coarse blocks of lava which time has not worn down.  When Pansa went to the dwelling of Paratus his sandals trod the same stones that now receive the impress of our boots.  On rainy days this street must have been the bed of a torrent, as the alleys and by-ways of Naples are still; hence, one, sometimes three, thicker blocks were placed so as to enable foot passengers to cross with dry feet.  These small fording blocks must have made it difficult for vehicles to get by; hence, the ruts that are still found traceable on the pavement are the marks of wagons drawn slowly by oxen, and not of those light chariots which romance-writers launch forth so briskly in the ancient city.  Moreover, it has been ascertained that the Pompeians went afoot; only the quality had themselves drawn about in chariots in the country.  Where could room have been found for stables and carriage-houses in those dwellings scarcely larger than your hat?  It was in the suburbs only, in the outskirts of the city, that the dimensions of the residences rendered anything of the kind possible.  Let us, then, obliterate these chariots from our imagination, if we wish to see the streets of Pompeii as they really were.