We can imagine better than describe the blank dismay with which the Romans, on the departure of the Gauls, must have looked upon their ancient homes. Not only was the country ravaged, as had often happened in days of yore, but the city itself, except the Capitol, was a heap of ruins. It is not strange that once again the plebeians should have thought of quitting Rome forever. Not long before they had wished to migrate to Veii; now, they had actually been living there for many months. Rome no longer existed; patriotism, they said, no longer required them to stand by their ancient home; why should not all depart--patricians with their clients and freedmen, as well as plebeians--and make a new Rome at Veii? In vain Camillus opposed these arguments with all the influence which his late services had given him. Standing in the Forum, under shadow of the Capitol, with the citadel defended by Manlius over their heads, in the sight of their country’s gods, now brought back from Cære, the plebeians were ready to agree to a general migration of the whole people, when (so runs the story) a sudden omen changed their hearts. A certain centurion was leading a party of soldiers through the city, and, halting them in the Forum while the question was in hot debate, he used these memorable words: “Standard-bearer, pitch the standard here; here it will be best for us to stay!” It was therefore resolved to rebuild the city, and the senate did all in their power to hasten on the work. They took care to retrace, as far as might be, the ancient sites of the temples; but it was impossible to prescribe any rules for marking out the streets and fixing the habitations of the citizens. All they did was to supply tiling for the houses at the public expense. So men built their houses where they could, where the ground was most clear of rubbish, or where old materials were most easy to be got. Hence, when these houses came to be joined together by others, so as to form streets, these streets were narrow and crooked, and, what was still worse, were often built across the lines of the ancient sewers, so that there was now no good and effectual drainage. The irregularity continued till Rome was again rebuilt after the great fire in the time of the emperor Nero. Great were the evils that were caused by this hurry. The healthiness of the city must have been impaired, order and decency must have suffered, but there was one particular evil at the moment which threatened very great mischief. The mass of the people, having little or nothing of their own, or having lost all in the late destruction, were obliged to borrow money in order to complete their dwellings: and as tillage had for the last season been nearly suspended, the want and misery that prevailed were great. Now again, as after the wars against the Tarquins, many of the poorer sort were reduced to bondage in the houses of the wealthy.