In regard to the natural history of the stones, ’tis the same as that of _Stonehenge_, which is compos’d of the very same stones, fetch’d from the same _Marlborough-downs_, where they lie on the surface of the ground in great plenty, of all dimensions. This was the occasion, why the Druids took the opportunity of building these immense works in this country. The people call these great stones, _sarsens_; and ’tis a proverb here, _as hard as a sarsen_; a mere _phœnician_ word, continued here from the first times, signifying a _rock_. The very name of _Tyre_ is hence derived, of which largely and learnedly _Bochart_, _Canaan_ II. 10. This whole country, hereabouts, is a solid body of chalk, cover’d with a most delicate turf. As this chalky matter harden’d at creation, it spew’d out the most solid body of the stones, of greater specific gravity than itself; and assisted by the centrifuge power, owing to the rotation of the globe upon its axis, threw them upon its surface, where they now lie. This is my opinion concerning this appearance, which I often attentively consider’d. ’Tis worth while for a curious observer to go toward the northern end of that great ridge of hills overlooking _Abury_ from the east, call’d the _Hakpen_, an oriental name too, that has continued to it from _Druid_ times. A little to the right hand of the road coming from _Marlborough_ to _Abury_, where are three pretty barrows, and another dish-like barrow, if we look downwards to the side of the hill toward _Abury_, we discern many long and straight ridges of natural stone, the same as the gray weathers, as it were emerging out of the chalky surface. They are often cross’d by others in straight lines, almost at right angles. For hereabouts, it seems, that the chalk contracting itself, and growing closer together, as it hardened, thrust the lapidescent matter into these fissures. ’Tis a very pretty appearance. This is near that part of the _downs_ call’d _Temple-downs_. There are no quarries, properly speaking, nearer _Abury_ than _Swindon_, and those have not long been dug. In _Caln_ they dig up a paltry kind of stone, fit for nothing but mending the highways. But our gray weather stone is of so hard a texture, that Mr. _Ayloff_ of _Wooton-basset_ hewed one of them to make a rape-mill stone, and employ’d twenty yoke of oxen to carry it off. Yet so great was its weight, that it repeatedly broke all his tackle in pieces, and he was forc’d to leave it. It may be said of many one of our gray weathers, _Est moles nativa, loco res nomina fecit. Appellant saxum, pars bona montis ea est._ Ovid.