It remains, now, that we examine the sense and import of the inscription, which, after having long dwelt upon it, with the closest and most laborious attention, I must confess myself not yet able fully to comprehend. The following explications, therefore, are, by no means, laid down as certain and indubitable truths, but as conjectures not always wholly satisfactory, even to myself, and which I had not dared to propose to so enlightened an age, an age which abounds with those great ornaments of human nature, skepticks, antimoralists, and infidels, but with hopes that they would excite some person of greater abilities, to penetrate further into the oraculous obscurity of this wonderful prediction. Not even the four first lines are without their difficulties, in which the time of the discovery of the stone seems to be the time assigned for the events foretold by it: "Cum lapidem hunc, magni Qui nunc jacet incola stagni, Vel pede equus tanget, Vel arator vomere franget, Sentiet ægra metus, Effundet patria fletus, Littoraque ut fluctu, Resonabunt oppida luctu." "Whene'er this stone, now hid beneath the lake, The horse shall trample, or the plough shall break, Then, O my country, shall thou groan distrest, Grief in thine eyes, and terrour in thy breast. Thy streets with violence of woe shall sound, Loud as the billows bursting on the ground." "When this stone," says he, "which now lies hid beneath the waters of a deep lake, shall be struck upon by the horse, or broken by the plough, then shalt thou, my country, be astonished with terrours, and drowned in tears; then shall thy towns sound with lamentations, as thy shores with the roarings of the waves." These are the words literally rendered, but how are they verified! The lake is dry, the stone is turned up, but there is no appearance of this dismal scene. Is not all, at home, satisfaction and tranquillity? all, abroad, submission and compliance? Is it the interest, or inclination, of any prince, or state, to draw a sword against us? and are we not, nevertheless, secured by a numerous standing army, and a king who is, himself, an army? Have our troops any other employment than to march to a review? Have our fleets encountered any thing but winds and worms? To me the present state of the nation seems so far from any resemblance to the noise and agitation of a tempestuous sea, that it may be much more properly compared to the dead stillness of the waves before a storm. "Nam foecunda rubri Serpent per prata colubri, Gramina vastantes, Flores fructusque vorantes, Omnia foedantes, Vitiantes, et spoliantes; Quanquam haud pugnaces, Ibunt per cuncta minaces, Fures absque timore, Et pingues absque labore."