another, even though it were willed to an entire stranger. In this severely disciplined society, the woman never escaped from guardianship. She was looked upon as belonging to the family rather than to the State. The latter consisted only of men, to whom the women were merely necessary accessories. No one thought that a woman possessed any claim or right to independence of individuality. She was always under a master: her father, when she was a girl; her husband, when she was married; and her nearest male relative, if she became a widow. If she obtained any share in her father's property or in that of her husband, she could not transfer or bequeath it without the consent of her male guardian, unless she were a Vestal; nor could she marry without the same consent. But, however dependent her position may have been, whether maid or matron, the Roman woman was always treated with reverence. The _stola_, the characteristic robe of the matron, corresponding to the toga of the male citizen, always ensured for its wearer respect, it being not merely an article of attire, but also an insignia which could only be retained by strict rectitude of life, market days or assembly days. In the villa--a miserable cabin made of mud, rafters, and branches--not a day, not a moment, was lost. Horace does not draw a more agreeable picture of ancient city manners. He tells us that "at Rome, for a long time a man knew no other pleasure and no other festival than to open his door at dawn, to explain the law to his clients, and to lay out his money on good security. They learned from their elders, and taught beginners, the art of increasing their savings." But when it is remembered that Cato was a sour and miserly Puritan, who adopted austerity as his pose, and that Horace was a poet, not untouched with cynicism, who lived in a society in which the charm of simple enjoyments was entirely forgotten, we may consider both pictures, though from differing causes, slightly overdrawn. Nevertheless they serve to indicate how circumscribed was the life of the wives of the early Romans. Those strong-minded, intense, practical people were not, however, without their entertainments. Music, both vocal and instrumental, was cultivated. There were religious festivals, in which processions of boys and maidens sang pious hymns. We also learn from Cicero that it was the custom for the guests at a feast to sing the praises of their great men to the sound of the flute. It is easy for us to imagine a home scene in which Veturia, the mother of the youthful Cnæus Martius, tells over again to the inquiring boy those inspiring stories which he has heard chanted by his father's hearth and which are to prepare him to emulate heroic deeds at Corioli and earn for himself an honorable name.