the inside of this dovecote (January 14, 1813). There were opened in her
presence several glass urns with leaden cases, on the bottom of which
still floated some ashes in a liquid not yet dried up, a mixture of
water, wine, and oil. Other urns contained only some bones and the small
coin which has been taken for Charon's obolus.

I have many other tombs left to mention. There are three, which are
sarcophagi, still complete, never open, and proving that the ancients
buried their dead even before Christianity prohibited the use of the
funeral pyre. Families had their choice between the two systems, and
burned neither men who had been struck by lightning (they thought the
bodies of such to be incorruptible), nor new-born infants who had not
yet cut their teeth. Thus it was that the remains of Diomed's youngest
children could not be found, while those of the elder ones were
preserved in a glass urn contained in a vase of lead.

A tomb that looks like a sentry-box, and stands as though on duty in
front of the Herculaneum gate, had, during the eruption, been the refuge
of a soldier, whose skeleton was found in it. Another
strangely-decorated monument forms a covered hemicycle turned toward the
south, fronting the sea, as though to offer a shelter for the fatigued
and heated passers-by. Another, of rounded shape, presents inside a
vault bestrewn with small flowers and decorated with bas-reliefs, one of
which represents a female laying a fillet on the bones of her child.
Other monuments are adorned with garlands. One of the least curious
contained the magnificent blue and white glass vase, of which I shall
have to speak further on. That of the priestess Mamia, ornamented with a
superb inscription, forms a large circular bench terminating in a lion's
claw. Visitors are fond of resting there to look out upon the landscape
and the sea. Let us not forget the funereal triclinium, a
simply-decorated dining-hall, where still are seen three beds of
masonry, used at the banquets given in honor of the dead. These feasts,
at which nothing was eaten but shell-fish (poor fare, remarks Juvenal),
were celebrated nine days after the death. Hence came their title,
_novendialia_. They were also called _silicernia_; and the guests
conversed at them about the exploits and benevolent deeds of the man who
had ceased to live. Polybius boasts greatly of these last honors paid to
illustrious citizens. Thence it was, he says, that Roman greatness took