"The name of the architect to whom the great work of the Coliseum was entrusted has not come down to us. The ancients seem themselves to have regarded this name as a matter of little interest; nor, in fact, do they generally care to specify the authorship of their most illustrious buildings. The reason is obvious. The forms of ancient art in this department were almost wholly conventional, and the limits of design within which they were executed gave little room for the display of original taste and special character.... It is only in periods of eclecticism and renaissance, when the taste of the architect has wider scope, and may lead the eye instead of following it, that interest attaches to his personal merit. Thus it is that the Coliseum, the most conspicuous type of Roman civilisation, the monument which divides the admiration of strangers in modern Rome with St. Peter's itself, is nameless and parentless, while every stage in the construction of the great Christian temple, the creation of a modern revival, is appropriated with jealous care to its special claimants. "The dedication of the Coliseum afforded to Titus an opportunity for a display of magnificence hitherto unrivalled, A battle of cranes with dwarfs representing the pigmies was a fanciful novelty, and might afford diversion for a moment; there were combats of gladiators, among whom women were included, though no noble matron was allowed to mingle in the fray; and the capacity of the vast edifice was tested by the slaughter of five thousand animals in its circuit. The show was crowned with the immission of water into the arena, and with a sea-fight representing the contests of the Corinthians and Corcyreans, related by Thucydides.... When all was over, Titus himself was seen to weep, perhaps from fatigue, possibly from vexation and disgust; but his tears were interpreted as a presentiment of his death, which was now impending, and it is probable that he was already suffering from a decline of bodily strength.... He lamented effeminately the premature decease he too surely anticipated, and, looking wistfully at the heavens, exclaimed that he did not deserve to die. He expired on the 13th September, 81, not having quite completed his fortieth year."--_Merivale_, ch. Ix. "Hadrian gave a series of entertainments in honour of his birth-day, with the slaughter of a thousand beasts, including a hundred lions and as many lionesses. One magical scene was the representation of forests, when the whole arena became planted with living trees, shrubs, and flowers; to complete which illusion the ground was made to open, and send forth wild animals from yawning clefts, instantly re-covered with bushes.