On the fourth before[570] the nones of June, the Eagle rises again in the evening, a critical day for the olives and vines in blossom, if there should happen to be a full moon. For my part, I am of opinion that the eighth[571] before the calends of July, the day of the summer solstice, must be a critical day, for a similar reason; and that the rising of the Dog-star, twenty-three days after the summer solstice, must be so too, in case the moon is then in conjunction; for the excessive heat is productive of injurious effects, and the grape becomes prematurely ripened, shrivelled, and tough. Again, if there is a full moon on the fourth before[572] the nones of July, when Canicula rises to the people of Egypt, or at least on the sixteenth before[573] the calends of August, when it rises in Italy, it is productive of injurious results. The same is the case, too, from the thirteenth day before[574] the calends of August, when the Eagle sets, to the tenth before[575] the calends of that month. The Second Vinalia, which are celebrated on the fourteenth[576] before the calends of September, bear no reference to these influences. Varro fixes them at the period at which the Lyre begins its morning setting, and says that this indicates the beginning of autumn, the day having been set apart for the purpose of propitiating the weather: at the present day, however, it is observed that the Lyre sets on the sixth before[577] the ides of August. Within these periods there are exerted the sterilizing influences of the heavens, though I am far from denying that they may be considerably modified by the nature of the locality, according as it is cold or hot. Still, however, it is sufficient for me to have demonstrated the theory; the modifications of its results depending, in a great degree, upon attentive observation. It is beyond all question too, that either one of these two causes will be always productive of its own peculiar effects, the full moon, I mean, or else the moon’s conjunction. And here it suggests itself how greatly we ought to admire the bounteous provisions made for us by Nature; for, in the first place, these calamitous results cannot by any possibility befall us every year, in consequence of the fixed revolutions of the stars; nor indeed, when they do happen, beyond a few nights in the year, and it may be easily known beforehand which nights those are likely to be. In order, too, that we might not have to apprehend these injuries to vegetation in all the months, Nature has so ordained that the times of the moon’s conjunction in summer, and of the full moon in winter, with the exception of two days only at those respective periods, are well ascertained, and that there is no danger to be apprehended on any but the nights of summer, and those nights the shortest of all; in the day-time, on the other hand, there is nothing to fear. And then, besides, these phænomena may be so easily understood, that the ant