"To their great astonishment, however, Cicero's first request was that they would take him to see the tomb of Archimedes. To his own still greater astonishment, as we may well believe, they told him in reply that they knew nothing about the tomb of Archimedes, and had no idea where it was to be found, and they even denied that any such tomb was still remaining among them. But Cicero understood perfectly well what he was talking about. He remembered the exact description of the tomb. He remembered the very verses which had been inscribed on it. He remembered the sphere and the cylinder which Archimedes had himself requested to have wrought upon it, as the chosen emblems of his eventful life. And the great orator forthwith resolved to make search for it himself. Accordingly, he rambled out into the place of their ancient sepulchres, and, after a careful investigation, he came at last to a spot overgrown with shrubs and bushes, where presently he descried the top of a small column just rising above the branches. Upon this little column the sphere and the cylinder were at length found carved, the inscription was painfully deciphered, and the tomb of Archimedes stood revealed to the reverent homage of the illustrious Roman quæstor. "This was in the year 76 before the birth of our Savior. Archimedes died about the year 212 before Christ. One hundred and thirty six years only had thus elapsed since the death of this celebrated person, before his tombstone was buried beneath briers and brambles; and before the place and even the existence of it were forgotten by the magistrates of the very city of which he was so long the proudest ornament in peace, and the most effective defender in war. What a lesson to human pride, what a commentary on human gratitude was here! It is an incident almost precisely like that which the admirable and venerable DR. WATTS imagined or imitated, as the topic of one of his most striking and familiar Lyrics: "'Theron, among his travels, found A broken statue on the ground; And searching onward as he went, He traced a ruined monument. Mould, moss, and shades had overgrown The sculpture of the crumbling stone; Yet ere he passed, with much ado, He guessed and spelled out, Sci-pi-o. "Enough," he cried; "I'll drudge no more In turning the dull Stoics o'er; * * * * * For when I feel my virtue fail, And my ambitious thoughts prevail, I'll take a turn among the tombs, And see whereto all glory comes." I do not learn, however, that Cicero was cured of his eager vanity and his insatiate love of fame by this "turn" among the Syracusan tombs. He was then only just at the threshold of his proud career, and he went back to pursue it to its bloody end with unabated zeal, and with an ambition only extinguishable with his life.'" CHAPTER XV. THE MACEDONIAN SUPREMACY. I. THE SACRED WAR.