In alluding to the public palaces of amusement, Curio, a Roman Prætor, some few years before the Christian era, is said to have built two wooden theatres close together, which turned on pivots. During the day they were turned away from each other, and different plays were performed in each; then, with all the spectators, they were turned together, forming an amphitheatre in which combats took place. The zeal of the Roman architects to win popular favor by something novel and striking was often very great. In Pompey’s theatre water was made to run down the aisles, between the seats, in order to refresh spectators in the heat of summer. But that the Roman architects were not always as careful in the inspection of the buildings under their supervision as they should have been, and, like some of our modern architects, permitted their works to be used when in an unsafe condition, is shown from the unfortunate catastrophe which resulted in the unexpected tumbling to pieces of the theatre of Fidenæ near Rome. This accident happened in the reign of Tiberius, and the name of the architect who suffered banishment for his neglect was Attilius. The theatre was built of wood, and out of fifty thousand people who were injured in the collapse twenty thousand are said to have died. Of all the Roman emperors none is more interesting to the student of Grecian architecture than Hadrian, who was a great admirer of Greece, seeking to introduce the Hellenic institutions and modes of worship in Rome, as well as the art, poetry and learning of Greece. He also undertook to restore Athens, which had suffered greatly during the four or five hundred years which had elapsed between his time and that of Pericles, to something of her former architectural grandeur. Pope’s couplet might have been Hadrian’s inspiration: “You, too, proceed! make falling arts your care, Erect new wonders and the old repair.” Indeed, he caused to be inscribed upon the Arch of Honor, which he erected in Athens, after the restoration, two inscriptions which, if not in the best of taste, were in harmony with their author’s self-love, of which he possessed no inconsiderable share. Upon that side of the arch which faced the ancient city he wrote: “This is Athens, the old city of Theseus,” and on that which fronted upon the new city of his restoration and adornment was inscribed: “This is the city of Hadrian, and not of Theseus.” In other words, the visitor was expected to make his own comparison and perhaps draw the conclusion intimated that Theseus was not, after all, to be compared with the Roman Hadrian.