s left us, and
examining their import without heat, precipitancy, or party-prejudices;
let us endeavour to keep the just mean, between searching, ambitiously,
for far-fetched interpretations, and admitting such low meaning, and
obvious and low sense, as is inconsistent with those great and extensive
views, which it is reasonable to ascribe to this excellent man.

It may be yet further asked, whether this inscription, which appears in
the stone, be an original, and not rather a version of a traditional
prediction, in the old British tongue, which the zeal of some learned
man prompted him to translate and engrave, in a more known language, for
the instruction of future ages: but, as the lines carry, at the first
view, a reference both to the stone itself, and, very remarkably, to the
place where it was found, I cannot see any foundation for such a
suspicion.

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 aegra 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 w