Chaps. 59-68.

Chap. 59. (58.)—Of Stones That Have Fallen from the Clouds. The Opinion of Anaxagoras Respecting Them.

The Greeks boast that Anaxagoras [The life of Anaxagoras has been written by Diogenes Laërtius. We have an ample account of him by Enfield in the General Biography, in loco; he was born B.C. 500 and died B.C. 428.], the Clazomenian, in the second year of the 78th Olympiad, from his knowledge of what relates to the heavens, had predicted, that at a certain time, a stone would fall from the sun [There is some variation in the exact date assigned by different authors to this event; in the Chronological table in Brewster’s Encyc. vi. 420, it is said to have occurred 467 B.C.]. And the thing accordingly happened, in the daytime, in a part of Thrace, at the river Ægos. The stone is now to be seen, a waggon-load in size and of a burnt appearance; there was also a comet shining in the night at that time [Aristotle gives us a similar account of this stone; that it fell in the daytime, and that a comet was then visible at night; Meteor. i. 7. It is scarcely necessary to remark, that the authority for this fact must be referred entirely to Aristotle, without receiving any additional weight from our author. The occurrence of the comet at the same time with the aërolite must have been entirely incidental.]. But to believe that this had been predicted would be to admit that the divining powers of Anaxagoras were still more wonderful, and that our knowledge of the nature of things, and indeed every thing else, would be thrown into confusion, were we to suppose either that the sun is itself composed of stone, or that there was even a stone in it; yet there can be no doubt that stones have frequently fallen from the atmosphere. There is a stone, a small one indeed, at this time, in the Gymnasium of Abydos, which on this account is held in veneration, and which the same Anaxagoras predicted would fall in the middle of the earth. There is another at Cassandria, formerly called Potidæa [“Deductis eo sacri lapidis causa colonis, extructoque oppido, cui nomen a colore adusto lapidis, est inditum, Potidæa. Est enim ποτὶ Dorice πρὸς, ad, apud; δαίομαι, uror.” Hardouin, in Lemaire, i. 361. It was situated in the peninsula of Pallene, in Macedonia.], which from this circumstance was built in that place. I have myself seen one in the country of the Vocontii [The Vocontii were a people of Gallia Narbonensis, occupying a portion of the modern Dauphiné.], which had been brought from the fields only a short time before.

Chap. 60. (59.)—The Rainbow.

What we name Rainbows frequently occur, and are not considered either wonderful or ominous; for they do not predict, with certainty, either rain or fair weather. It is obvious, that the rays of the sun, being projected upon a hollow cloud, the light is thrown back to the sun and is refracted [“Manifestum est, radium Solis immissum cavæ nubi, repulsa acie in Solem, refringi.”], and that the variety of colours is produced by a mixture of clouds, air, and fire [Aristotle treats of the Rainbow much in detail, principally in his Meteor. iii. 2, 3, 4, and 5, where he gives an account of the phænomena, which is, for the most part, correct, and attempts to form a theory for them; see especially cap. 4. p. 577 et seq. In the treatise De Mundo he also refers to the same subject, and briefly sums up his doctrine with the following remark: “arcus est species segmenti solaris vel lunaris, edita in nube humida, et cava, et perpetua; quam velut in speculo intuemur, imagine relata in speciem circularis ambitûs.” cap. 4. p. 607. Seneca also treats very fully on the phænomena and theory of the Rainbow, in his Nat. Quæst. i. 3-8.]. The rainbow is certainly never produced except in the part opposite to the sun, nor even in any other form except that of a semicircle. Nor are they ever formed at night, although Aristotle asserts that they are sometimes seen at that time; he acknowledges, however, that it can only be on the 14th day of the moon [Vide supra, also Meteor. iii. 2, and Seneca, Nat. Quæst. i. 3.]. They are seen in the winter the most frequently, when the days are shortening, after the autumnal equinox [Aristotle, Meteor. iii. 5. p. 581, observes, that the rainbow is less frequently seen in the summer, because the sun is more elevated, and that, consequently, a less portion of the arch is visible. See also Seneca, Nat. Quæst. i. 8. p. 692.]. They are not seen when the days increase again, after the vernal equinox, nor on the longest days, about the summer solstice, but frequently at the winter solstice, when the days are the shortest. When the sun is low they are high, and when the sun is high they are low; they are smaller when in the east or west, but are spread out wider; in the south they are small, but of a greater span. In the summer they are not seen at noon, but after the autumnal equinox at any hour: there are never more than two seen at once.

Chap. 61.—The Nature of Hail, Snow, Hoar, Mist, Dew; the Forms of Clouds.

I do not find that there is any doubt entertained respecting the following points. (60.) Hail is produced by frozen rain, and snow by the same fluid less firmly concreted, and hoar by frozen dew [Aristotle treats at some length of dew, snow, and hail, in his Meteor. i. cap. 10, 11 & 12 respectively.]. During the winter snow falls, but not hail; hail itself falls more frequently during the day than the night, and is more quickly melted than snow. There are no mists either in the summer or during the greatest cold of winter. There is neither dew nor hoar formed during great heat or winds, nor unless the night be serene. Fluids are diminished in bulk by being frozen, and, when the ice is melted, we do not obtain the same quantity of fluid as at first [When water is frozen, its bulk is increased in consequence of its assuming a crystalline structure. Any diminution which may be found to have taken place in the bulk of the fluid, when thawed, must be ascribed to evaporation or to some accidental circumstance.].

(61.) The clouds are varied in their colour and figure according as the fire which they contain is in excess or is absorbed by them.

Chap. 62. (62.)—The Peculiarities of the Weather in Different Places.

There are, moreover, certain peculiarities in certain places. In Africa dew falls during the night in summer. In Italy, at Locri, and at the Lake Velinum, there is never a day in which a rainbow is not seen [“Velini lacus... præcipiti cursu in gurgitem subjectum defertur, et illo aquarum lapsu, dispersis in aëra guttis humidis,... iridis multiplicis phænomenon efficit....” Alexandre, in Lemaire, i. 365.]. At Rhodes and at Syracuse the sky is never so covered with clouds, but that the sun is visible at one time or another; these things, however, will be better detailed in their proper place. So far respecting the air.

Chap. 63. (63.)—Nature of the Earth.

Next comes the earth, on which alone of all parts of nature we have bestowed the name that implies maternal veneration. It is appropriated to man as the heavens are to God. She receives us at our birth, nourishes us when born, and ever afterwards supports us; lastly, embracing us in her bosom when we are rejected by the rest of nature, she then covers us with especial tenderness; rendered sacred to us, inasmuch as she renders us sacred, bearing our monuments and titles, continuing our names, and extending our memory, in opposition to the shortness of life. In our anger we imprecate her on those who are now no more [We have an example in Martial, v. 34. 9, of the imprecation which has been common in all ages: Mollia nec rigidus cespes tegat ossa, nec illi Terra gravis fueris; and in Seneca’s Hippolytus, sub finem:... istam terra defossam premat, Gravisque tellus impio capiti incubet.], as if we were ignorant that she is the only being who can never be angry with man. The water passes into showers, is concreted into hail, swells into rivers, is precipitated in torrents; the air is condensed into clouds, rages in squalls; but the earth, kind, mild, and indulgent as she is, and always ministering to the wants of mortals, how many things do we compel her to produce spontaneously! What odours and flowers, nutritive juices, forms and colours! With what good faith does she render back all that has been entrusted to her! It is the vital spirit which must bear the blame of producing noxious animals; for the earth is constrained to receive the seeds of them, and to support them when they are produced. The fault lies in the evil nature which generates them. The earth will no longer harbour a serpent after it has attacked any one [The author refers to this opinion, xxix. 23, when describing the effects of venomous animals.], and thus she even demands punishment in the name of those who are indifferent about it themselves [inertium; “ultione abstinentium,” as explained by Alexandre, in Lemaire, i. 367.]. She pours forth a profusion of medicinal plants, and is always producing something for the use of man. We may even suppose, that it is out of compassion to us that she has ordained certain substances to be poisonous, in order that when we are weary of life, hunger, a mode of death the most foreign to the kind disposition of the earth [“Quod mortis genus a terræ meritis et benignitate valde abhorret.” Hardouin, in Lemaire, i. 367.], might not consume us by a slow decay, that precipices might not lacerate our mangled bodies, that the unseemly punishment of the halter may not torture us, by stopping the breath of one who seeks his own destruction, or that we may not seek our death in the ocean, and become food for our graves, or that our bodies may not be gashed by steel. On this account it is that nature has produced a substance which is very easily taken, and by which life is extinguished, the body remaining undefiled and retaining all its blood, and only causing a degree of thirst. And when it is destroyed by this means, neither bird nor beast will touch the body, but he who has perished by his own hands is reserved for the earth.

But it must be acknowledged, that everything which the earth has produced, as a remedy for our evils, we have converted into the poison of our lives. For do we not use iron, which we cannot do without, for this purpose? But although this cause of mischief has been produced, we ought not to complain; we ought not to be ungrateful to this one part of nature [“Terra, inquit, sola est, e quatuor naturæ partibus sive elementis, adversus quam ingrati simus.” Alexandre, in Lemaire, i. 368.]. How many luxuries and how many insults does she not bear for us! She is cast into the sea, and, in order that we may introduce seas into her bosom, she is washed away by the waves. She is continually tortured for her iron, her timber, stone, fire, corn, and is even much more subservient to our luxuries than to our mere support. What indeed she endures on her surface might be tolerated, but we penetrate also into her bowels, digging out the veins of gold and silver, and the ores of copper and lead; we also search for gems and certain small pebbles, driving our trenches to a great depth. We tear out her entrails in order to extract the gems with which we may load our fingers. How many hands are worn down that one little joint may be ornamented! If the infernal regions really existed, certainly these burrows of avarice and luxury would have penetrated into them. And truly we wonder that this same earth should have produced anything noxious! But, I suppose, the savage beasts protect her and keep off our sacrilegious hands [“Est ironiæ formula. Quid, ait, feras et serpentes et venena terræ exprobramus, quæ ne ad tuendam quidem illam satis valent?” Alexandre, in Lemaire, i. 369.]. For do we not dig among serpents and handle poisonous plants along with those veins of gold? But the Goddess shows herself more propitious to us, inasmuch as all this wealth ends in crimes, slaughter, and war, and that, while we drench her with our blood, we cover her with unburied bones; and being covered with these and her anger being thus appeased, she conceals the crimes of mortals [“ossa vel insepulta cum tempore tellus occultat, deprimentia pondere suo mollitam pluviis humum.” Alexandre, in Lemaire, i. 370.]. I consider the ignorance of her nature as one of the evil effects of an ungrateful mind.

Chap. 64. (64.)—Of the Form of the Earth.

Every one agrees that it has the most perfect figure [“figura prima.” I may refer to the second chapter of this book, where the author remarked upon the form of the earth as perfect in all its parts, and especially adapted for its supposed position in the centre of the universe.]. We always speak of the ball of the earth, and we admit it to be a globe bounded by the poles. It has not indeed the form of an absolute sphere, from the number of lofty mountains and flat plains; but if the termination of the lines be bounded by a curve [“... si capita linearum comprehendantur ambitu;” the meaning of this passage would appear to be: if the extremities of the lines drawn from the centre of the earth to the different parts of the surface were connected together, the result of the whole would be a sphere. I must, however, remark, that Hardouin interprets it in a somewhat different manner; “Si per extremitates linearum ductarum a centro ad summos quosque vertices montium circulus exigatur.” Lemaire, i. 370.], this would compose a perfect sphere. And this we learn from arguments drawn from the nature of things, although not from the same considerations which we made use of with respect to the heavens. For in these the hollow convexity everywhere bends on itself, and leans upon the earth as its centre. Whereas the earth rises up solid and dense, like something that swells up and is protruded outwards. The heavens bend towards the centre, while the earth goes from the centre, the continual rolling of the heavens about it forcing its immense globe into the form of a sphere [“... immensum ejus globum in formam orbis assidua circa eam mundi volubilitate cogente.” As Hardouin remarks, the word mundus is here used in the sense of cœlum. Lemaire, i. 371.].

Chap. 65. (65.)—Whether There Be Antipodes?

On this point there is a great contest between the learned and the vulgar. We maintain, that there are men dispersed over every part of the earth, that they stand with their feet turned towards each other, that the vault of the heavens appears alike to all of them, and that they, all of them, appear to tread equally on the middle of the earth. If any one should ask, why those situated opposite to us do not fall, we directly ask in return, whether those on the opposite side do not wonder that we do not fall. But I may make a remark, that will appear plausible even to the most unlearned, that if the earth were of the figure of an unequal globe, like the seed of a pine [As our author admits of the existence of antipodes, and expressly states that the earth is a perfect sphere, we may conclude that the resemblance to the cone of the pine is to be taken in a very general sense. How far the ancients entertained correct opinions respecting the globular figure of the earth, or rather, at what period this opinion became generally admitted, it is perhaps not easy to ascertain. The lines in the Georgics, i. 242, 243, which may be supposed to express the popular opinion in the time of Virgil, certainly do not convey the idea of a sphere capable of being inhabited in all its parts: Hic vertex nobis semper sublimis; at illum Sub pedibus Styx atra videt, manesque profundi.], still it may be inhabited in every part.

But of how little moment is this, when we have another miracle rising up to our notice! The earth itself is pendent and does not fall with us; it is doubtful whether this be from the force of the spirit which is contained in the universe [“spiritus vis mundo inclusi.”], or whether it would fall, did not nature resist, by allowing of no place where it might fall. For as the seat of fire is nowhere but in fire, nor of water except in water, nor of air except in air, so there is no situation for the earth except in itself, everything else repelling it. It is indeed wonderful that it should form a globe, when there is so much flat surface of the sea and of the plains. And this was the opinion of Dicæarchus, a peculiarly learned man, who measured the heights of mountains, under the direction of the kings, and estimated Pelion, which was the highest, at 1250 paces perpendicular, and considered this as not affecting the round figure of the globe. But this appears to me to be doubtful, as I well know that the summits of some of the Alps rise up by a long space of not less than 50,000 paces [“... Alpium vertices, longo tractu, nec breviore quinquaginta millibus passuum assurgere.” To avoid the apparent improbability of the author conceiving of the Alps as 50 miles high, the commentators have, according to their usual custom, exercised their ingenuity in altering the text. See Poinsinet, i. 206, 207, and Lemaire, i. 373. But the expression does not imply that he conceived them as 50 miles in perpendicular height, but that there is a continuous ascent of 50 miles to get to the summit. This explanation of the passage is adopted by Alexandre; Lemaire, ut supra. For what is known of Dicæarchus I may refer to Hardouin, Index Auctorum, in Lemaire, i. 181.]. But what the vulgar most strenuously contend against is, to be compelled to believe that the water is forced into a rounded figure [“coactam in verticem aquarum quoque figuram.”]; yet there is nothing more obvious to the sight among the phænomena of nature. For we see everywhere, that drops, when they hang down, assume the form of small globes, and when they are covered with dust, or have the down of leaves spread over them, they are observed to be completely round; and when a cup is filled, the liquid swells up in the middle. But on account of the subtile nature of the fluid and its inherent softness, the fact is more easily ascertained by our reason than by our sight. And it is even more wonderful, that if a very little fluid only be added to a cup when it is full, the superfluous quantity runs over, whereas the contrary happens if we add a solid body, even as much as would weigh 20 denarii. The reason of this is, that what is dropt in raises up the fluid at the top, while what is poured on it slides off from the projecting surface. It is from the same cause [“aquarum nempe convexitas.” Alexandre, in Lemaire, i. 374.] that the land is not visible from the body of a ship when it may be seen from the mast; and that when a vessel is receding, if any bright object be fixed to the mast, it seems gradually to descend and finally to become invisible. And the ocean, which we admit to be without limits, if it had any other figure, could it cohere and exist without falling, there being no external margin to contain it? And the same wonder still recurs, how is it that the extreme parts of the sea, although it be in the form of a globe, do not fall down? In opposition to which doctrine, the Greeks, to their great joy and glory, were the first to teach us, by their subtile geometry, that this could not happen, even if the seas were flat, and of the figure which they appear to be. For since water always runs from a higher to a lower level, and this is admitted to be essential to it, no one ever doubted that the water would accumulate on any shore, as much as its slope would allow it. It is also certain, that the lower anything is, so much the nearer is it to the centre, and that all the lines which are drawn from this point to the water which is the nearest to it, are shorter than those which reach from the beginning of the sea to its extreme parts [“Quam quæ ad extremum mare a primis aquis.” I profess myself altogether unable to follow the author’s mode of reasoning in this paragraph, or to throw any light upon it. He would appear to be arguing in favour of the actual flatness of the surface of the ocean, whereas his previous remarks prove its convexity.]. Hence it follows, that all the water, from every part, tends towards the centre, and, because it has this tendency, does not fall.

Chap. 66.—How the Water Is Connected with the Earth. Of the Navigation of the Sea and the Rivers.

We must believe, that the great artist, Nature, has so arranged it, that as the arid and dry earth cannot subsist by itself and without moisture, nor, on the other hand, can the water subsist unless it be supported by the earth, they are connected by a mutual union. The earth opens her harbours, while the water pervades the whole earth, within, without, and above; its veins running in all directions, like connecting links, and bursting out on even the highest ridges; where, forced up by the air, and pressed out by the weight of the earth, it shoots forth as from a pipe, and is so far from being in danger of falling, that it bounds up to the highest and most lofty places. Hence the reason is obvious, why the seas are not increased by the daily accession of so many rivers [Alexandre remarks on this passage, “Nempe quod remotissimos etiam fontes alat oceanus. Sed omittit Plinius vaporationis intermedia ope hoc fieri.” Lemaire, i. 376. Aristotle has written at considerable length on the origin of springs, in his Meteor. i. 13. p. 543 et seq. He argues against the opinion of those who suppose that the water of springs is entirely derived from evaporation. Seneca’s account of the origin of springs is found in his Nat. Quæst. iii. 1.].

(66.) The earth has, therefore, the whole of its globe girt, on every side, by the sea flowing round it. And this is not a point to be investigated by arguments, but what has been ascertained by experience.

Chap. 67. (67.)—Whether the Ocean Surrounds the Earth.

The whole of the western ocean is now navigated, from Gades and the Pillars of Hercules, round Spain and Gaul. The greater part of the northern ocean has also been navigated, under the auspices of the Emperor Augustus, his fleet having been carried round Germany to the promontory of the Cimbri [The voyage which is here alluded to was probably that performed by Drusus; it is mentioned by Dio, lib. iv., Suetonius, Claud. § 1, Vel. Paterculus, ii. 106, and by Tacitus, Germ. § 34.]; from which spot they descried an immense sea, or became acquainted with it by report, which extends to the country of the Scythians, and the districts that are chilled by excessive moisture [What is here spoken of we may presume to have been that part of the German Ocean which lies to the N.W. of Denmark; the term Scythian was applied by the ancients in so very general a way, as not to afford any indication of the exact district so designated.]. On this account it is not at all probable, that the ocean should be deficient in a region where moisture so much abounds. In like manner, towards the east, from the Indian sea, all that part which lies in the same latitude [“Sub eodem sidere;” “which lies under the same star.”], and which bends round towards the Caspian [The ancients conceived the Caspian to be a gulf, connected with the northern ocean. Our author gives an account of it, vi. 15.], has been explored by the Macedonian arms, in the reigns of Seleucus and Antiochus, who wished it to be named after themselves, the Seleucian or Antiochian Sea. About the Caspian, too, many parts of the shores of the ocean have been explored, so that nearly the whole of the north has been sailed over in one direction or another. Nor can our argument be much affected by the point that has been so much discussed, respecting the Palus Mæotis, whether it be a bay of the same ocean [That is, of the Caspian Sea.], as is, I understand, the opinion of some persons, or whether it be the overflowing of a narrow channel connected with a different ocean [The remarks which our author makes upon the Palus Mæotis, in the different parts of his work, ii. 112 and vi. 7, appear so inconsistent with each other, that we must suppose he indiscriminately borrowed them from various writers, without comparing their accounts, or endeavouring to reconcile them to each other. Such inaccuracies may be thought almost to justify the censure of Alexandre, who styles our author, “indiligens plane veri et falsi compilator, et ubi dissentiunt auctores, nunquam aut raro sibi constans.” Lemaire, i. 378.]. On the other side of Gades, proceeding from the same western point, a great part of the southern ocean, along Mauritania, has now been navigated. Indeed the greater part of this region, as well as of the east, as far as the Arabian Gulf, was surveyed in consequence of Alexander’s victories. When Caius Cæsar, the son of Augustus [The son of Agrippa, whom Augustus adopted. Hardouin, in Lemaire, i. 378.], had the conduct of affairs in that country, it is said that they found the remains of Spanish vessels which had been wrecked there. While the power of Carthage was at its height, Hanno published an account of a voyage which he made from Gades to the extremity of Arabia [See Beloe’s Herodotus, ii. 393, 394, for an account of the voyage round Africa that was performed by the Phœnicians, who were sent to explore those parts by Necho king of Egypt.]; Himilco was also sent, about the same time, to explore the remote parts of Europe. Besides, we learn from Corn. Nepos, that one Eudoxus, a contemporary of his [It is generally supposed that C. Nepos lived in the century previous to the Christian æra. Ptolemy Lathyrus commenced his reign U.C. 627 or B.C. 117, and reigned for 36 years. The references made to C. Nepos are not found in any of his works now extant.], when he was flying from king Lathyrus, set out from the Arabian Gulf, and was carried as far as Gades [We have previously referred to Eudoxus, note, p. 78.]. And long before him, Cælius Antipater [We have a brief account of Antipater in Hardouin’s Index Auctorum; Lemaire, i. 162.] informs us, that he had seen a person who had sailed from Spain to Æthiopia for the purposes of trade. The same Cornelius Nepos, when speaking of the northern circumnavigation, tells us that Q. Metellus Celer, the colleague of L. Afranius in the consulship, but then a proconsul in Gaul [We are informed by Alexandre that this was in the year of the City 691, the same year in which Cicero was consul; see note in Lemaire, i. 379.], had a present made to him by the king of the Suevi, of certain Indians, who sailing from India for the purpose of commerce, had been driven by tempests into Germany [It is scarcely necessary to remark, that the account here given must be incorrect; the reader who may be disposed to learn the opinions of the commentators on this point, may consult the notes in Poinsinet and Lemaire in loco.]. Thus it appears, that the seas which flow completely round the globe, and divide it, as it were, into two parts [Dividuo globo; “Eoas partes a vespertinis dividente oceano.” Alexandre in Lemaire, i. 380.], exclude us from one part of it, as there is no way open to it on either side. And as the contemplation of these things is adapted to detect the vanity of mortals, it seems incumbent on me to display, and lay open to our eyes, the whole of it, whatever it be, in which there is nothing which can satisfy the desires of certain individuals.

Chap. 68. (68.)—What Part of the Earth Is Inhabited.

In the first place, then, it appears, that this should be estimated at half the globe [“Jam primum in dimidio computari videtur.”], as if no portion of this half was encroached upon by the ocean. But surrounding as it does the whole of the land, pouring out and receiving all the other waters, furnishing whatever goes to the clouds, and feeding the stars themselves, so numerous and of such great size as they are, what a great space must we not suppose it to occupy! This vast mass must fill up and occupy an infinite extent. To this we must add that portion of the remainder which the heavens [“Cœlum;” the rigour of the climate.] take from us. For the globe is divided into five parts [The division of the globe into five zones is referred to by Virgil, Geor. i. 233-239, and by Ovid, Met. i. 45, 46.], termed zones, and all that portion is subject to severe cold and perpetual frost which is under the two extremities, about each of the poles, the nearer of which is called the north, and the opposite the south, pole. In all these regions there is perpetual darkness, and, in consequence of the aspect of the milder stars being turned from them, the light is malignant, and only like the whiteness which is produced by hoar frost. The middle of the earth, over which is the orbit of the sun, is parched and burned by the flame, and is consumed by being so near the heat. There are only two of the zones which are temperate, those which lie between the torrid and the frigid zones, and these are separated from each other, in consequence of the scorching heat of the heavenly bodies. It appears, therefore, that the heavens take from us three parts of the earth; how much the ocean steals is uncertain.

And with respect to the part which is left us, I do not know whether that is not even in greater danger. This same ocean, insinuating itself, as I have described it, into a number of bays, approaches with its roaring [“... interna maria allatrat,...”] so near to the inland seas, that the Arabian Gulf is no more than 115 miles from the Egyptian Sea [This is considerably more than the distance in the present day. The Isthmus of Suez appears, according to the statement of the most accurate geographers, to be about 70 miles in breadth.], and the Caspian only 375 miles from the Euxine. It also insinuates itself into the numerous seas by which it separates Africa, Europe, and Asia; hence how much space must it occupy? We must also take into account the extent of all the rivers and the marshes, and we must add the lakes and the pools. There are also the mountains, raised up to the heavens, with their precipitous fronts; we must also subtract the forests and the craggy valleys, the wildernesses, and the places, which, from various causes, are desert. The vast quantity which remains of the earth [Hæ tot portiones terræ, as Alexandre correctly remarks, “ironice dictum. Quam paucæ enim supersunt!” Lemaire, i. 383.], or rather, as many persons have considered it, this speck of a world [“Mundi punctus.” This expression, we may presume, was taken from Seneca; “Hoc est illud punctum, quod inter tot gentes ferro et igni dividitur.” Nat. Quæst. i. præf. p. 681.] (for the earth is no more in regard to the universe), this is the object, the seat of our glory—here we bear our honours, here we exercise our power, here we covet wealth, here we mortals create our disturbances, here we continually carry on our wars, aye, civil wars, even, and unpeople the earth by mutual slaughter. And not to dwell on public feuds, entered into by nations against each other, here it is that we drive away our neighbours, and enclose the land thus seized upon within our own fence [Nostro solo adfodimus; “addimus, adjungimus, annectimus, ut una fossione aretur.” Hardouin, in Lemaire, i. 383.]; and yet the man who has most extended his boundary, and has expelled the inhabitants for ever so great a distance, after all, what mighty portion of the earth is he master of? And even when his avarice has been the most completely satisfied, what part of it can he take with him into the grave?