war, B.C. 310, and which, revolting along with the entire valley of the Sarno from Nocera to Stabiae, repulsed an incursion of the Romans and drove them back to their vessels.  The third Samnite war was, as is well known, a bloody vengeance for this, and Pompeii became Roman.  Although the yoke of the conquerors was not very heavy—­the municipii, retaining their Senate, their magistrates, their comitiae or councils, and paying a tribute of men only in case of war—­the Samnite populations, clinging frantically to the idea of a separate and independent existence, rose twice again in revolt; once just after the battle of Cannae, when they threw themselves into the arms of Hannibal, and then against Sylla, one hundred and twenty-four years later—­facts that prove the tenacity of their resistance.  On both occasions Pompeii was retaken, and the second time partly dismantled and occupied by a detachment of soldiers, who did not long remain there.  And thus we have the whole history of this little city.  The Romans were fond of living there, and Cicero had a residence in the place, to which he frequently refers in his letters.  Augustus sent thither a colony which founded the suburb of Augustus Felix, administered by a mayor.  The Emperor Claudius also had a villa at Pompeii, and there lost one of his children, who perished by a singular mishap.  The imperial lad was amusing himself, as the Neapolitan boys do 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 comitiae, promulged municipal laws, regulated military levies, collected taxes; in fine selected her own immediate rulers—­her consuls (the duumvirs dispensing justice), her ediles, her quaestors, 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.