This sensitive Roman caused this beloved fish to be buried with great magnificence: he raised a monument to its memory, and never ceased to mourn for it.[XXI-58] This man, who displayed so little tenderness towards his servants, had an extraordinary weakness concerning his fine sea-eels. He passed his life beside the superb fish-pond, where he lovingly fattened them from his own hand. Ornamented with necklaces of the finest pearls, and earrings of precious stones,[XXI-59] all, at a signal, swam towards him; several fearlessly took the food he offered them; and some, as familiar as their absent and regretted companion, allowed their master to caress them without seeking to bite or avoid him.[XXI-60] This singular passion, which at the present day we can hardly believe, in spite of the respectable authority of the most serious writers, was very common at Rome, amongst those who were rich enough to rear such fish. C. Hirtius was the first to construct fish ponds on the sea shore, to which many visitors were attracted by their magnificence.[XXI-61] The family of Licinius took their surname of _Muræna_ from these fish, in order thus to perpetuate the most silly affection, and the remembrance of their insanity.[XXI-62] Sea-eels necessarily pleased men cloyed with pleasures, and who substituted a kind of cold and cruel curiosity for the terrible emotions which beings peculiarly organized hope to find in evil-doing: gladiators murdering each other; lions or tigers lacerating the _bestiarii_; all these agonies of the amphitheatre had long since lost the attraction of novelty. It was a much more exciting spectacle to witness a swarm of sea-eels tearing to pieces an awkward or rebellious slave; besides, it greatly improved the fish. The atrocious Vedius Pollio, who understood these matters, never failed to have sea-eels served him after their odious repast, that he might have the pleasure of eating some part of the body of his victim.[XXI-63] Thank Heaven! however, some amateurs of this dreaded fish were not so barbarous; they fattened them very well without having recourse to such criminal food. Veal was cut into thin slices, and steeped in the blood of the animal for ten days, after which the fish greedily regaled themselves with it.[XXI-64] It was, doubtless, in this manner that the skilful speculator, Hirtius,--the same already mentioned--nourished his sea-eels, which produced him an immense revenue. His fish ponds contained so great a number that he was able to offer six thousand to Julius Cæsar on the occasion of the public feast that general gave the day of his triumphal return from the conquest of Gaul.[XXI-65]