his ‘Natural History,’ in thirty-seven books, a work remarkable for its comprehensiveness and erudition, and not less varied than Nature herself. You will wonder how a man so occupied with business could possibly find time to write such a number of volumes, many of them on subjects of a nature so difficult to be treated of. You will be even more astonished when you learn, that for some time he pleaded at the bar as an advocate, that he was only in his fifty-sixth year at the time of his death, and that the time that intervened was equally trenched upon and frittered away by the most weighty duties of business, and the marks of favour shewn him by princes. His genius, however, was truly quite incredible, his zeal indefatigable, and his power of application wonderful in the extreme. At the festival of the Vulcanalia[13], he began to sit up to a late hour by candle-light, not for the purpose of consulting[14] the stars, but with the object of pursuing his studies; while, in the winter, he would set to work at the seventh hour of the night, or the eighth at the very latest, often indeed at the sixth[15]. By nature he had the faculty of being able to fall asleep in a moment; indeed, slumber would sometimes overtake him in his studies, and then leave him just as suddenly. Before daybreak, he was in the habit of attending the Emperor Vespasian,—for he, too, was one who made an excellent use of his nights,—and then betook himself to the duties with which he was charged. On his return home, he devoted all the time which was still remaining to study. Taking an early repast, after the old fashion, light, and easy of digestion, in the summer time, if he had any leisure to spare, he would lie down in the sun-shine, while some book was read to him, he himself making notes and extracts in the meanwhile; for it was his habit never to read anything without making extracts, it being a maxim of his, that there is no book so bad but that some good may be got out of it. After thus enjoying the sunshine, he generally took a cold bath; after which he would sit down to a slight repast, and then take a short nap. On awaking, as though another day had now commenced, he would study till the hour for the evening meal, during which some book was generally read to him, he making comments on it in a cursory manner. I remember, on one occasion, a friend of his interrupting the reader, who had given the wrong pronunciation to some words, and making him go over them again. “You understood him, didn’t you?” said my uncle. “Yes,” said the other. “Why, then, did you make him go over it again? Through this interruption of yours, we have lost more than ten lines.” So thrifty a manager was he of time! In summer he rose from the evening meal by daylight; and, in winter, during the first hour of the night[16], just as though there had been some law which made it compulsory on him to do so. This is how he lived in the midst of his employments, and the bustle of the city.