a low door formerly closed by a single slab of travertine, too ponderous for modern hinges.  At first we could distinguish nothing in the darkness, but by the uncertain flaring of two candles, which the guide waved about incessantly, we saw a chamber hewn in the rock, with a roof in imitation of beams and rafters, all of solid tufa stone.  A low stone seat against the wall on each hand and a small hanging lamp were all the furniture of this apartment, awful in its emptiness and mystery.  On every side there were dark openings into cells whence came gleams of white, indefinite forms:  a great Gorgon’s head gazed at us from the ceiling, and from the walls in every direction started the crested heads and necks of sculptured serpents.  We entered one by one the nine small grotto-like compartments which surround the central cavern:  the white shapes turned out to be cinerary urns, enclosing the ashes of the three thousand years dead Volumnii.  Urns, as we understand the word, they are not, but large caskets, some of them alabaster, on whose lids recline male figures draped and garlanded as for a feast:  the faces differ so much in feature and expression that one can hardly doubt their being likenesses:  the figures, if erect, would be nearly two feet in height.  The sides of these little sarcophagi are covered with bassi-rilievi, many of them finely executed:  the subjects are combats and that favorite theme the boar-hunt of Kalydon; there was one which represented the sacrifice of a child.  The Medusa’s head, as it is thought to be, recurs constantly, treated with extraordinary power:  we were divided among ourselves whether it was Medusa or an Erinnys with winged head.  The sphinx appears several times:  there are four on the corners of an alabaster urn in the shape of a temple, exquisite in form and features, and exceedingly delicate in workmanship.  Bulls’ heads, with garlands drooping between them, a well-known ornament of antique altars, are among the decorations.  But far the most beautiful objects were the little hanging figures, which seemed to have been lamps of a green bronze color, though we were assured that they are terra-cotta:  they are male figures of exquisite grace and beauty, with a lightness and airiness commonly given to Mercury; but these had large angel pinions on the shoulders, and none on the head or feet.  There was not a scholar in the party, so we all returned unenlightened, but profoundly interested and impressed, and with that delightful sense of stimulated curiosity which is worth more than all Eurekas.  With the exception of a few weapons and trinkets, which we saw at the museum, this is all that remains of the mighty Etruscans, save the shapes of the common red pottery which is spread out wholesale in the open space opposite the cathedral on market-days—­the most graceful and useful which could be devised, and which have not changed their model since earlier days than the occupants of those tombs could remember.