which is no better than if it had been his object to make the whole inquiry ridiculous. Any one who has a taste for Greek must reject such trash with the greatest indignation. There are only a very few words the meaning of which can be guessed: on all the tomb-stones we read _avil ril_ followed by a number (the Etruscan and Roman numbers are the same), whence we may suppose these two words to mean _vixit annos_; sometimes we find _ril_ alone, which may accordingly mean “year.” It is possible that the word is indeclinable, and it may even be imagined that all nouns in Etruscan, as in many eastern languages, are indeclinable. Now Lanzi, not being able to find a similar word in Greek or Latin, objects to the interpretation of these words which alone are known; and he connects _avil_, which probably signifies _vixit_, with the Greek αἰών, though he would prefer a word with a stronger resemblance. On several works of art we find the word _turce_ added to a name, which he interprets ἐποίει, and I will let this pass; but he adds that _turce_ is nothing but the contracted τὸ ἔρξε, that is, τοὖρξε. Such things have found admirers, and even in Germany! I feel no inclination to speculate where I do not stand on firm ground; but it certainly is much more probable, that _ce_ is the termination of the noun, like _us_ in Latin; and accordingly I say “_turce_ may be the same as _Tuscus_, for _r_ and _s_ are very often interchanged.” In the fifteenth century, a number of bronze tables were found at Gubbio in Umbria, with inscriptions partly in Etruscan and partly in Latin characters, but in an unknown language: who knows what these tables contain! A man with the faculty of divination possessed by Champollion might perhaps be able to explain the language, but it requires a full consciousness of the analogy of languages; this is the only way in which it might be made out, but it is impossible to explain it by itself. The Italians, like Passeri, have proceeded on the supposition that the Etruscans were _haruspices_, interpreters of lightning, and the like, and that consequently their monuments contain all kinds of _fulguratio_: on such premises they then attempted to translate the inscriptions with a truly revolting impertinence: you can scarcely form an idea of this kind of nonsense. I say this because I have been described as wanting in modesty by people who no doubt may have been extremely modest all their lives; and the remark has been added, that I had not read the productions of those inquirers. But I have read Lanzi’s work, and deliberately declare that it is thoroughly bad. Lanzi was a man of talent and acuteness, but completely ignorant of Greek literature, and he had but a poor knowledge of Latin. He was an encyclopaedist, who undertook much, but finished only half of what he undertook. I have here expressed my conviction with the fullest confidence, that it is not only my conviction, but the pure truth. It is possible that a resemblance may