at the foot of the couch of their parents or friends, at a more frugal table, as did sometimes girls and persons of low rank.

The custom of reclining took place only at supper: there was no formality at other meals: persons took them alone, or in company, either standing or sitting. The place where they supped was anciently called cœnaculum, and was situate in the higher part of the house, whence the whole upper part, or highest story of a house, was called by that name. It was afterwards called cœnatio, and sometimes triclinium, because three couches were spread around the table, on which the guests might recline.

On each couch there were commonly three persons; they lay with the upper part of the body reclined on the left arm, the head a little raised, the back supported by cushions, and the limbs stretched out at full length, or a little bent; the feet of the first behind the back of the second, and his feet behind the back of the third, with a pillow between each. The head of the second was opposite to the breast of the first; so that if he wanted to speak to him, especially if the thing was to be secret, he was obliged to lean upon his bosom, as is mentioned both in Pliny's letters, and in the thirteenth chapter of St. John, twentythird verse. In conversation, those who spoke raised themselves almost upright, supported by cushions. When they ate, they raised themselves on their elbow, and made use of their right hand,

sometimes of both hands; for we do not read of their using either knives or forks; and Horace (Ep. i. 16, 23) alludes to the greasy hands ("manus uncta") of the guests.

He who reclined at the top was called summus, or primus, the first or highest; the one at the foot, imus, or ultimus, the last or lowest; between them, medius, which was esteemed the most honourable place. If a consul was present at a feast, his place was the lowest on the middle couch, which was hence called locus consularis, because there he could most conveniently receive any messages that were sent to him. The master of the feast reclined at the top of the lowest couch, next to the consul. Sometimes in one couch there were only two, sometimes four; it was reckoned sordid to have more. When there were only two couches in a room, it was called a biclinium.

The number of couches depended on that of the guests, which Varro said ought not to be less than the number of the Graces, nor more than that of the Muses. So in the time of Plautus, the number of those who reclined on couches did not exceed nine. The persons whom those who were invited had liberty to bring with them, were called umbra, uninvited guests.

. The bedsteads and feet were made of wood, sometimes of silver or gold, or adorned with plates of silver. On the couch was laid a mat

tress, or quilt stuffed with feathers or wool, but in ancient times with hay or chaff. At first, couches seem to have been covered with herbs or leaves, and the cloth, or ticking, which covered the mattress, or couch, was called toral, or lodix, which are also used for a sheet or blanket; lodicula, a small blanket or flannel coverlet for the body. On solemn occasions, the couches were covered with superb cloth, with purple and embroidery. Cicero speaks of couches bespread with a purple covering, much the same with what Virgil calls fine tapestry wrought with needle work, said to have been first invented at the court of Attalus, king of Pergamus. Hangings used likewise to be suspended from the top of the room, to receive the dust.

Under the emperors, instead of three couches, was introduced one of a semicircular form, and which usually contained seven persons, and sometimes eight; but in later ages the custom was introduced, which still prevails in the east, of sitting or reclining on the floor at meat, and at other times on cushions covered with cloths.

The tables of the Romans were anciently square, on three sides of which were placed three couches; the fourth side was left empty, for the slaves to bring in and out the dishes : when the semicircular couch came to be used, tables were made round. The tables of the great were usually made of citron or maple wood, and

adorned with ivory. The tables were sometimes brought in and out of the room with the dishes upon them, and at other times the dishes were brought in and set down upon the table.

A table with one foot was called monopodium. These were of a circular figure, used chiefly by the rich, and commonly adorned with ivory and sculpture. A side-board was called abacus, and sometimes delphica. The table of the poorer people commonly had three feet, and sometimes one of them shorter than the other two; hence the " unequal tables" of Martial, (i. 56, 11). The ancient Romans did not use table cloths, but wiped the table, when soiled, with a sponge, or with a coarse cloth.

Before the guests began to eat, they always washed their hands, and a towel was furnished in the house where they supped to dry them. But each guest seems to have brought with him from home the table napkin, or cloth, which he used in time of eating to wipe his mouth and hands, but not always. The napkin (mappa) was sometimes adorned with a purple fringe. The guests used sometimes, with the permission of the master of the feast, to put some part of the entertainment into the mappa, and give it to their slaves to carry home. Table cloths began to be used under the emperors.

76

ART. V. The Miseries of an Artist.

TO THE EDITOR OF ANNALS OF THE FINE ARTS.

SIR,

EVERY body must remember a little work called "The Miseries of Human Life," which produced so strong a sensation in the town, from its truth, its wit and its humour. Perhaps some of your professional readers may not be unamused if the miseries of an artist are set before them on a similar principle.

I shall begin with the little miseries of an historical painter, setting aside the great ones, which are certainly not to be joked with.

First Series.-Month of November.

Wake at half past seven;-remember this is the day you are to paint the head of your principal figure!-hope, in the name of Raffaelle, the day may be a fine one; hope there may be a good light; hope it may not rain; hope there may be no fog; lie still for five or ten minutes, afraid to look out of your window, for fear of the consequences; at last seize the window curtain, - take a sort of a peep with a beating heart, but no light appearing, fancy you have not moved the blind; - grapple for the blind, find you have moved it; and what you mistake for an obstruction of the light inside your window, find to be a thorough-bred dark, dingy, heavy, wet, muggy, smoky, greasy, filthy, yellow London fog, of the true sort outside! let fall the