takes place: But then it so happens, that no historical period whatever is assigned by the author of the dialogue, as the date of its actual occurrence. Chapman also maintains, that this is the only mode of accounting for the work _De Legibus_ not being mentioned in the treatise _De Divinatione_, where Cicero’s other philosophical productions are enumerated. The reason of this omission, however, might be, that the work _De Legibus_ never was made public by the author; and, indeed, with exception of the first book, the whole is but a sketch or outline of what he intended to write, and is far from having received the polish and perfection of those performances which he circulated himself. The discussion _De Legibus_ is carried on, in the shape of dialogue, by Cicero, his brother Quintus, and Atticus. Of these Cicero is the chief interlocutor. The scene is laid amid the walks and pleasure-grounds of Cicero’s villa of Arpinum, which lay about three miles from the town of that name, and was situated in a mountainous but picturesque region of the ancient territory of the Samnites, now forming part of the kingdom of Naples. This house was the original seat of the family of Cicero, who was born in it during the life of his grandfather, while it was yet small and humble as the Sabine cottage of Curius or Cincinnatus; but his father had gradually enlarged and embellished it, till it became a spacious and elegant mansion, where, as his health was infirm, he passed the greater part of his life in literary retirement(400). Cicero was thus equally attracted to this villa by the many pleasing and tender recollections with which it was associated, and by the amenity of the situation, which was the most retired and delightful, even in that region of enchanting landscape. It was closely surrounded by a grove, and stood not far from the confluence of the Fibrenus with the Liris. The former stream, which murmured over a rocky channel, was remarkable for its clearness, rapidity, and coolness; and its sloping verdant banks were shaded with lofty poplars(401). “Many streams,” says Mr. Kelsall, one of our latest Italian tourists, “which are celebrated in story and song, disappoint the traveller,— ‘Dumb are their fountains, and their channels dry,’—