'Di là fosti cotanto quant'io scesi: Quando mi volsi, tu possasti 'l punto Alqual si troggon d'ogni parte i pasi.' 'Thou wast on the other side so long as I Descended; when I turned thou didst o'erpass That point to which from every part is dragged All heavy unbalance!' It was well thought by Monti that, had this passage been noted by Newton, it might have given him a better hint than the falling apple. Perhaps it did, for Newton was no poet, and it is the poetic, associative-minded men of genius who have always preceded the greatest, strictly scientific minds, and far surpassed the latter in the comprehensiveness of their views. Bear with me, ye men of Induction, for I believe in the coming age, at whose threshold we even now stand, when ye and the poets shall be one. The Marquis of Worcester was not like the indifferentist philosopher, so well set forth by Charles Woodruff Shields in his _Philosophia Ultima_,[4] as one who would not invade, but only ignore the province of revelation, regarding its mysteries as matters entirely too vague to be taken into the slightest account in his exact science. For our good Lord Herbert thought Heaven had a great deal to do with his inventions, as is proved by his 'ejaculatory and extemporary Thanksgiving Prayer, when first with his corporeal eyes he did see finished a perfect trial of his Water-commanding Engine, delightful and useful to whomsoever hath in recommendation either knowledge, profit, or pleasure.' And--never mind the delay, reader--we will even look at that prayer, in which this world and the next blend so strangely;