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Transcriber’s notes:
Italic text is denoted _thus_.
The spelling, hyphenation, punctuation and accentuation are as the
original, except for apparent typographical errors which have been
corrected.
In footnote 3897:—
See B. ii. c. 116.
corrected to read:—
See B. ii. c. 110.
In footnote 4348:—
A king of ... see B. xvi. c. 89 of the present Book.
is incorrect, as B. xvi is to be found in Vol. III.
BOHN’S CLASSICAL LIBRARY.
PLINY’S
NATURAL HISTORY.
THE
NATURAL HISTORY
OF
PLINY.
TRANSLATED,
WITH COPIOUS NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS
BY THE LATE
JOHN BOSTOCK, M.D., F.R.S.
AND
H. T. RILEY, ESQ., B.A.,
LATE SCHOLAR OF CLARE HALL, CAMBRIDGE.
VOL. I.
LONDON:
HENRY G. BOHN, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN.
MDCCCLV.
PRINTED BY TAYLOR AND FRANCIS,
RED LION COURT, FLEET STREET.
PREFACE
The only translation of PLINY’S NATURAL HISTORY which has hitherto
appeared in the English language is that by Philemon Holland, published
in the latter part of the reign of Elizabeth. It is no disparagement
to Holland’s merits, as a diligent and generally faithful translator,
to say that his work is unsuited to the requirements of the nineteenth
century.
In the present translation, the principal editions of Pliny have been
carefully consulted, and no pains have been spared, as a reference to
the Notes will show, to present to the reader the labours of recent
Commentators, among whom stands pre-eminent the celebrated Cuvier.
It has been a primary object to bring to the illustration of the
work whatever was afforded by the progress of knowledge and modern
discoveries in science and art. Without ample illustration, Pliny’s
valuable work would want much of the interest which belongs to it, and
present difficulties scarcely surmountable by any one who has not made
the Author his especial study.
In the first two Books, the text of Hardouin, as given in Lemaire’s
edition (Paris, 1827), has been followed; in the remainder that of
Sillig (Gotha, 1851-3), excepting in some few instances, where, for
reasons given in the Notes, it has been deemed advisable to depart from
it. The first two Books, and portions of others, are the performance
of the late Dr. Bostock, who contemplated a translation of the entire
work; but, unfortunately for the interests of science, he was not
permitted to carry his design into execution.
Upwards of a hundred pages had been printed off before the present
Translator entered on his duties; and as they had not the advantage
of Dr. Bostock’s superintendence through the press, some trifling
oversights have occurred. These are, for the most part, corrected in a
short Appendix.
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF PLINY.
Caius Plinius Secundus was born either at Verona or Novum Comum[1],
now Como, in Cisalpine Gaul, in the year A.U.C. 776, and A.D. 23. It
is supposed that his earlier years were spent in his native province;
and that he was still a youth when he removed to Rome, and attended
the lectures of the grammarian Apion. It was in about his sixteenth
year that he there saw Lollia Paulina[2], as in the following she was
divorced by Caligula, and it was probably in his twentieth that he
witnessed the capture of a large fish at Ostia, by Claudius and his
attendants[3], and in his twenty-second that he visited Africa[4],
Egypt, and Greece.
In his twenty-third year Pliny served in Germany under the legatus
Pomponius Secundus, whose friendship he soon acquired, and was in
consequence promoted to the command of an _ala_, or troop of cavalry.
During his military career he wrote a treatise (now lost) “On the Use
of the Javelin by Cavalry,” and travelled over that country[5] as far
as the shores of the German Ocean, besides visiting Belgic Gaul. In his
twenty-ninth year he returned to Rome, and applied himself for a time
to forensic pursuits, which however he appears soon to have abandoned.
About this time he wrote the life of his friend Pomponius, and an
account of the “Wars in Germany,” in twenty books, neither of which
are extant. Though employed in writing a continuation of the “Roman
History” of Aufidius Bassus, from the time of Tiberius, he judiciously
suspended its publication during the reign of Nero, who appointed him
his procurator in Nearer Spain, and not improbably honoured him with
equestrian rank. It was during his sojourn in Spain that the death of
his brother-in-law, C. Cæcilius, left his nephew C. Plinius Cæcilius
Secundus (the author of the Letters) an orphan; whom immediately upon
his return to Rome, A.D. 70, he adopted, receiving him and his widowed
mother under his roof.
Having been previously known to Vespasian in the German wars, he was
admitted into the number of his most intimate friends, and obtained an
appointment at court, the nature of which is not known, but Rezzonico
conjectures that it was in connexion with the imperial treasury. Though
Pliny was on intimate terms also with Titus, to whom he dedicated his
Natural History, there is little ground for the assertion, sometimes
made, that he served under him in the Jewish wars. His account of
Palestine clearly shows that he had never visited that country. It was
at this period that he published his Continuation of the History of
Aufidius Bassus.
From the titles which he gives to Titus in the dedicatory preface, it
is pretty clear that his Natural History was published A.D. 77, two
years before his death.
In A.D. 73 or 74, he had been appointed by Vespasian præfect of the
Roman fleet at Misenum, on the western coast of Italy. It was to this
elevation that he owed his romantic death, somewhat similar, it has
been remarked, to that of Empedocles, who perished in the crater of
Mount Ætna. The closing scene of his active life, simultaneously with
the destruction of Herculaneum and Pompeii, cannot be better described
than in the language employed by his nephew in an Epistle to his friend
Tacitus the historian[6]:—“My uncle was at Misenum, where he was in
personal command of the fleet. On the ninth[7] day before the calends
of September, at about the seventh hour, 1 P.M., my mother, observing
the appearance of a cloud of unusual size and shape, mentioned it to
him. After reclining in the sun he had taken his cold bath; he had then
again lain down and, after a slight repast, applied himself to his
studies. Immediately upon hearing this, he called for his shoes, and
ascended a spot from which he could more easily observe this remarkable
phænomenon. The cloud was to be seen gradually rising upwards; though,
from the great distance, it was uncertain from which of the mountains
it arose; it was afterwards, however, ascertained to be Vesuvius. In
appearance and shape it strongly resembled a tree; perhaps it was more
like a pine than anything else, with a stem of enormous length reaching
upwards to the heavens, and then spreading out in a number of branches
in every direction. I have little doubt that either it had been carried
upwards by a violent gust of wind, and that the wind dying away, it had
lost its compactness, or else, that being overcome by its own weight,
it had decreased in density and become extended over a large surface:
at one moment it was white, at another dingy and spotted, just as it
was more or less charged with earth or with ashes.
“To a man so eager as he was in the pursuit of knowledge, this appeared
to be a most singular phænomenon, and one that deserved to be viewed
more closely; accordingly he gave orders for a light Liburnian vessel
to be got ready, and left it at my option to accompany him. To this
however I made answer, that I should prefer continuing my studies; and
as it so happened, he himself had just given me something to write.
Taking his tablets with him, he left the house. The sailors stationed
at Retina, alarmed at the imminence of the danger—for the village lay
at the foot of the mountain, and the sole escape was by sea—sent to
entreat his assistance in rescuing them from this frightful peril. Upon
this he instantly changed his plans, and what he had already begun
from a desire for knowledge, he determined to carry out as a matter of
duty. He had the gallies put to sea at once, and went on board himself,
with the intention of rendering assistance, not only to Retina, but
to many other places as well; for the whole of this charming coast
was thickly populated. Accordingly he made all possible haste towards
the spot, from which others were flying, and steered straight onwards
into the very midst of the danger: so far indeed was he from every
sensation of fear, that he remarked and had noted down every movement
and every change that was to be observed in the appearance of this
ominous eruption. The ashes were now falling fast upon the vessels,
hotter and more and more thickly the nearer they approached the shore;
showers of pumice too, intermingled with black stones, calcined and
broken by the action of the flames: the sea suddenly retreated from
the shore, where the debris of the mountain rendered landing quite
impossible. After hesitating for a moment whether or not to turn back,
upon the pilot strongly advising him to do so:—“Fortune favours the
bold[8],” said he, “conduct me to Pomponianus.” Pomponianus was then
at Stabiæ, a place that lay on the other side of the bay, for in those
parts the shores are winding, and as they gradually trend away, the sea
forms a number of little creeks. At this spot the danger at present
was not imminent, but still it could be seen, and as it appeared to
be approaching nearer and nearer, Pomponianus had ordered his baggage
on board the ships, determined to take to flight, if the wind, which
happened to be blowing the other way, should chance to lull. The wind,
being in this quarter, was extremely favourable to his passage, and my
uncle soon arriving at Stabiæ, embraced his anxious friend, and did
his best to restore his courage; and the better to re-assure him by
evidence of his own sense of their safety, he requested the servants
to conduct him to the bath. After bathing he took his place at table,
and dined, and that too in high spirits, or at all events, what equally
shows his strength of mind, with every outward appearance of being so.
In the mean time vast sheets of flame and large bodies of fire were to
be seen arising from Mount Vesuvius; the glare and brilliancy of which
were beheld in bolder relief as the shades of night came on apace.
My uncle however, in order to calm their fears, persisted in saying
that this was only the light given by some villages which had been
abandoned by the rustics in their alarm to the flames: after which he
retired to rest, and soon fell fast asleep: for his respiration, which
with him was heavy and loud, in consequence of his corpulence, was
distinctly heard by the servants who were keeping watch at the door of
the apartment. The courtyard which led to his apartment had now become
filled with cinders and pumice-stones, to such a degree, that if he had
remained any longer in the room, it would have been quite impossible
for him to leave it. On being awoke he immediately arose, and rejoined
Pomponianus and the others who had in the meanwhile been sitting up.
They then consulted together whether it would be better to remain in
the house or take their chance in the open air; as the building was
now rocking to and fro from the violent and repeated shocks, while the
walls, as though rooted up from their very foundations, seemed to be
at one moment carried in this direction, at another in that. Having
adopted the latter alternative, they were now alarmed at the showers
of light calcined pumice-stones that were falling thick about them,
a risk however to which as a choice of evils they had to submit. In
taking this step I must remark that, while with my uncle it was reason
triumphing over reason, with the rest it was only one fear getting the
better of the other. Taking the precaution of placing pillows on their
heads, they tied them on with towels, by way of protection against
the falling stones and ashes. It was now day in other places, though
there it was still night, more dark and more profound than any ordinary
night; torches however and various lights in some measure served to
dispel the gloom. It was then determined to make for the shore, and to
ascertain whether the sea would now admit of their embarking; it was
found however to be still too stormy and too boisterous to allow of
their making the attempt. Upon this my uncle lay down on a sail which
had been spread for him, and more than once asked for some cold water,
which he drank; very soon however, they were alarmed by the flames and
the sulphurous smell which announced their approach, upon which the
others at once took to flight, while my uncle arose leaning upon two
of the servants for support. Upon making this effort, he instantly
fell to the ground; the dense vapour having, I imagine, stopped the
respiration and suffocated him; for his chest was naturally weak and
contracted, and often troubled with violent palpitations. When day was
at last restored, the third after the closing one of his existence,
his body was found untouched and without a wound; there was no change
to be perceived in the clothes, and its appearance was rather that of
a person asleep than of a corpse. In the meantime my mother and myself
were at Misenum—that however has nothing to do with the story, as it
was only your wish to know the details connected with his death. I
shall therefore draw to a conclusion. The only thing that I shall add
is the assurance that I have truthfully related all these facts, of
which I was either an eye-witness myself, or heard them at the time of
their occurrence, a period when they were most likely to be correctly
related. You of course will select such points as you may think the
most important. For it is one thing to write a letter, another to write
history;—one thing to write for a friend, another to write for the
public. Farewell.”
Of the mode of life pursued by Pliny, and of the rest of his works, an
equally interesting account has been preserved by his nephew, in an
Epistle addressed to Macer[9]. We cannot more appropriately conclude
than by presenting this Epistle to the reader:—“I am highly gratified
to find that you read the works of my uncle with such a degree of
attention as to feel a desire to possess them all, and that with this
view you inquire, What are their names? I will perform the duties of
an index then: and not content with that, will state in what order
they were written: for even that is a kind of information which is by
no means undesirable to those who are devoted to literary pursuits.
His first composition was a treatise ‘on the use of the Javelin by
Cavalry,’ in one Book. This he composed, with equal diligence and
ingenuity, while he was in command of a troop of horse. His second
work was the ‘Life of Q. Pomponius Secundus,’ in two Books, a person
by whom he had been particularly beloved.—These books he composed as
a tribute which was justly due to the memory of his deceased friend.
His next work was twenty Books on ‘the Wars in Germany,’ in which he
has compiled an account of all the wars in which we have been engaged
with the people of that country. This he had begun while serving in
Germany, having been recommended to do so in a dream. For in his sleep
he thought that the figure of Drusus Nero[10] stood by him—the same
Drusus, who after the most extensive conquests in that country, there
met his death. Commending his memory to Pliny’s attentive care, Drusus
conjured him to rescue it from the decaying effect of oblivion. Next
to these came his three books entitled ‘The Student’[11], divided,
on account of their great size, into six volumes. In these he has
given instructions for the training of the orator, from the cradle to
his entrance on public life. In the latter years of Nero’s reign, he
wrote eight books, ‘On Difficulties in the Latin Language[12];’ that
being a period at which every kind of study, in any way free-spoken
or even of elevated style, would have been rendered dangerous by the
tyranny that was exercised. His next work was his ‘Continuation of the
History of Aufidius Bassus,’ in thirty-one books; after which came
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. When in retirement in the country, the time spent
in the bath was the only portion that was not allotted by him to study.
When I say in the bath, I mean while he was in the water; for while his
body was being scraped with the strigil and rubbed, he either had some
book read to him, or else would dictate himself. While upon a journey,
as though relieved from every other care, he devoted himself to study,
and nothing else. By his side was his secretary, with a book and
tablets; and, in the winter time, the secretary’s hands were protected
by gloves, that the severity of the weather might not deprive his
master for a single moment of his services. It was for this reason also
that, when at Rome, he would never move about except in a litter. I
remember that on one occasion he found fault with me for walking—“You
might have avoided losing all those hours,” said he; for he looked
upon every moment as lost which was not devoted to study. It was by
means of such unremitting industry as this that he completed so many
works, and left me 160 volumes of notes[17], written extremely small
on both sides, which in fact renders the collection doubly voluminous.
He himself used to relate, that when he was procurator in Spain, he
might have parted with his common-place book to Largius Licinius for
400,000 sesterces; and at that time the collection was not so extensive
as afterwards. When you come to think of how much he must have read, of
how much he has written, would you not really suppose that he had never
been engaged in business, and had never enjoyed the favour of princes?
And yet, on the other hand, when you hear what labour he expended
upon his studies, does it not almost seem that he has neither written
nor read enough? For, in fact, what pursuits are those that would not
have been interrupted by occupations such as his? While, again, what
is there that such unremitting perseverance as his could not have
effected? I am in the habit, therefore, of laughing at it when people
call me a studious man,—me who, in comparison with him, am a downright
idler; and yet I devote to study as much time as my public engagements
on the one hand, and my duties to my friends on the other, will admit
of. Who is there, then, out of all those who have devoted their whole
life to literature, that ought not, when put in comparison with him,
to quite blush at a life that would almost appear to have been devoted
to slothfulness and inactivity? But my letter has already exceeded its
proper limits, for I had originally intended to write only upon the
subject as to which you made inquiry, the books of his composition
that he left. I trust, however, that these particulars will prove no
less pleasing to you than the writings themselves; and that they will
not only induce you to peruse them, but excite you, by a feeling of
generous emulation, to produce some work of a similar nature.—Farewell.”
Of all the works written by Pliny, one only, the ‘Historia Naturalis’
has survived to our times. This work, however, is not a ‘Natural
History’ in the modern acceptation of the term, but rather a vast
Encyclopædia of ancient knowledge and belief upon almost every known
subject—“not less varied than Nature herself,” as his nephew says. It
comprises, within the compass of thirty-seven books, 20,000 matters of
importance, collected from about 2000 volumes (nearly all of which have
now perished), the works, as Pliny himself states, of 100 writers of
authority; together with a vast number of additional matters unknown to
those authorities, and many of them the results of his own experience
and observation. Hardouin has drawn up a catalogue of the authors
quoted by Pliny; they amount in number to between 400 and 500.
The following is a brief sketch of the plan of this wonderful monument
of human industry. After a dedicatory Epistle to Titus, followed by a
table of contents of the other Books, which together form the First
Book, the author proceeds to give an account of the prevailing notions
as to the universe, the earth, the sun, the moon, the stars, and the
more remarkable properties of the elements (_partes naturæ_). He then
passes on to a geographical description of the face of the earth as
known to the ancients. After the Geography comes what may in strict
propriety be termed “Natural History,” including a history of man,
replete indeed with marvels, but interesting in the highest degree.
Having mentioned at considerable length the land, animals, fishes,
birds, and insects, he passes on to Botany, which in its various
aspects occupies the larger portion of the work. At the same time,
in accordance with his comprehensive plan, this part includes a vast
amount of information on numerous subjects, the culture of the cereals
and the manufacture of oil, wine, paper (_papyrus_), and numerous
other articles of daily use. After treating at considerable length
of Medical Botany, he proceeds to speak of medicaments derived from
the human body, from which he branches off into discussions on the
history of medicine, and magic, which last he looks upon as an offshoot
from the medical art; and he takes this opportunity of touching upon
many of the then current superstitions and notions on astrology. He
concludes this portion of his work with an account of the medicinal
properties of various waters, and of those of fishes and other aquatic
animals. He then presents us with a treatise on Mineralogy, in which
he has accumulated every possible kind of information relative to the
use of gold, silver, bronze, and other metals; a subject which not
unnaturally leads him into repeated digressions relative to money,
jewels, plate, statues, and statuaries. Mineral pigments next occupy
his attention, with many interesting notices of the great painters
of Greece; from which he passes on to the various kinds of stone and
materials employed in building, and the use of marble for the purposes
of sculpture, including a notice of that art and of the most eminent
sculptors. The last Book is devoted to an account of gems and precious
stones, and concludes with an eulogium on his native country, as alike
distinguished for its fertility, its picturesque beauties, and the
natural endowments and high destinies of its people.
From the writings of Pliny we gather of course a large amount of
information as to his opinions and the constitution of his mind.
His credulity, it must be admitted, is great in the extreme;
though, singularly enough, he severely taxes the Greeks with the
same failing[18]. Were we not assured from other sources that he
was eminently successful in life, was in the enjoyment of opulence,
and honoured with the favour and confidence of princes[19], the
remarks which he frequently makes on human life, in the Seventh Book
more especially, would have led us to the conclusion that he was
a disappointed man, embittered against his fellow-creatures, and
dissatisfied with the terms on which the tenure of life is granted
to us. He opens that Book with a preface replete with querulous
dissatisfaction and repinings at the lot of man—the only ‘tearful’
animal—he says[20]. He repines at the helpless and wretched condition
of the infant at the moment it is ushered into life, and the numerous
pains and vices to which it is doomed to be subject.—Man’s liability
to disease is with him a blemish in the economy of nature:—“life,”
he says, “this gift of nature, however long it may be, is but too
uncertain and too frail; to those even to whom it is most largely
granted, it is dealt out with a sparing and niggardly hand, if we
only think of eternity[21].” As we cannot have life on our own terms,
he does not think it worthy of our acceptance, and more than once
expresses his opinion that the sooner we are rid of it the better.
Sudden death he looks upon as a remarkable phænomenon, but, at the
same time, as the greatest blessing that can be granted to us[22]:
and when he mentions cases of resuscitation, it is only to indulge in
the querulous complaint, that, “exposed as he is by his birth to the
caprices of fortune, man can be certain of nothing; no, not even his
own death[23].” Though anything but[24] an Epicurean, in the modern
acceptation of the word, he seems to have held some, at least, of
the tenets of Epicurus, in reference to the immortality of the soul.
Whether he supposed that the soul, at the moment of death, is resolved
into its previous atoms or constituent elements, he does not inform us;
but he states it as his belief, that after death the soul has no more
existence than it had before birth; that all notions of immortality are
a mere delusion[25]; and that the very idea of a future existence is
ridiculous, and spoils that greatest[26] blessing of nature—death. He
certainly speaks of ghosts or apparitions, seen after death; but these
he probably looked upon as exceptional cases, if indeed he believed[27]
in the stories which he quotes, of which we have no proofs, or rather,
indeed, presumptive proofs to the contrary; for some of them he calls
“magna[28] fabulosetas,” “most fabulous tales.”
In relation to human inventions, it is worthy of remark, that he
states that the first[29] thing in which mankind agreed, was the use of
the Ionian alphabet; the second, the practice of shaving[30] the beard,
and the employment of barbers; and the third, the division of time into
hours.
We cannot more appropriately conclude this review of the Life and Works
of Pliny, than by quoting the opinions of two of the most eminent
philosophers of modern times, Buffon and Cuvier; though the former,
it must be admitted, has spoken of him in somewhat too high terms of
commendation, and in instituting a comparison between Pliny’s work and
those of Aristotle, has placed in juxtaposition the names of two men
who, beyond an ardent thirst for knowledge, had no characteristics in
common.
“Pliny,” says Buffon[31], “has worked upon a plan which is much more
extensive than that of Aristotle, and not improbably too extensive.
He has made it his object to embrace every subject; indeed he would
appear to have taken the measure of Nature, and to have found her
too contracted for his expansive genius. His ‘Natural History,’
independently of that of animals, plants, and minerals, includes
an account of the heavens and the earth, of medicine, commerce,
navigation, the liberal and mechanical arts, the origin of usages and
customs, in a word, the history of all the natural sciences and all the
arts of human invention. What, too, is still more astonishing, in each
of these departments Pliny shows himself equally great. The grandeur of
his ideas and the dignity of his style confer an additional lustre on
the profoundness of his erudition; not only did he know all that was
known in his time, but he was also gifted with that comprehensiveness
of view which in some measure multiplies knowledge. He had all that
delicacy of perception upon which depend so materially both elegance
and taste, and he communicates to his readers that freedom of thought
and that boldness of sentiment, which constitute the true germ of
philosophy. His work, as varied as Nature herself, always paints her
in her most attractive colours. It is, so to say, a compilation from
all that had been written before his time: a record of all that was
excellent or useful; but this record has in it features so grand, this
compilation contains matter grouped in a manner so novel, that it
is preferable to most of the original works that treat upon similar
subjects.”
The judgment pronounced by Cuvier on Pliny’s work, though somewhat
less highly coloured, awards to it a high rank among the most valuable
productions of antiquity. “The work of Pliny[32],” says he, “is one
of the most precious monuments that have come down to us from ancient
times, and affords proof of an astonishing amount of erudition in one
who was a warrior and a statesman. To appreciate with justice this vast
and celebrated composition, it is necessary to regard it in several
points of view—with reference to the plan proposed, the facts stated,
and the style employed. The plan proposed by the writer is of immense
extent—it is his object to write not merely a Natural History in our
restricted sense of the term, not an account merely, more or less
detailed, of animals, plants, and minerals, but a work which embraces
astronomy, physics, geography, agriculture, commerce, medicine, and
the fine arts—and all these in addition to natural history properly
so called; while at the same time he continually interweaves with
his narrative information upon the arts which bear relation to man
considered metaphysically, and the history of nations,—so much so
indeed, that in many respects this work was the Encyclopædia of its
age. It was impossible in running over, however cursorily, such a
prodigious number of subjects, that the writer should not have made
us acquainted with a multitude of facts, which, while remarkable in
themselves, are the more precious from the circumstance that at the
present day he is the only author extant who relates them. It is to
be regretted however that the manner in which he has collected and
grouped this mass of matter, has caused it to lose some portion of its
value, from his mixture of fable with truth, and more especially from
the difficulty, and in some cases, the impossibility, of discovering
exactly of what object[33] he is speaking. But if Pliny possesses
little merit as a critic, it is far otherwise with his talent as a
writer, and the immense treasury which he opens to us of Latin terms
and forms of expression: these, from the very abundance of the subjects
upon which he treats, render his work one of the richest repositories
of the Roman language. Wherever he finds it possible to give expression
to general ideas or to philosophical views, his language assumes
considerable energy and vivacity, and his thoughts present to us a
certain novelty and boldness which tend in a very great degree to
relieve the dryness of his enumerations, and, with the majority of his
readers, excuse the insufficiency of his scientific indications. He
is always noble and serious, full of the love of justice and virtue,
detestation of cruelty and baseness, of which he had such frightful
instances before his eyes, and contempt for that unbridled luxury which
in his time had so deeply corrupted the Roman people. For these great
merits Pliny cannot be too highly praised, and despite the faults
which we are obliged to admit in him when viewed as a naturalist, we
are bound to regard him as one of the most meritorious of the Roman
writers, and among those most worthy to be reckoned in the number of
the classics who wrote after the reign of Augustus.”
CONTENTS.
OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
BOOK I.
DEDICATION. Page
C. Plinius Secundus to his friend Titus Vespasian 1
BOOK II.
AN ACCOUNT OF THE WORLD AND THE ELEMENTS.
CHAP.
1. Whether the world be finite, and whether there be more than
one world 13
2. Of the form of the world 16
3. Of its nature; whence the name is derived _ib._
4. Of the elements and the planets 18
5. Of God 20
6. Of the nature of the stars; of the motion of the planets 25
7. Of the eclipses of the moon and the sun 34
8. Of the magnitude of the stars 35
9. An account of the observations that have been made on the
heavens by different individuals 36
10. On the recurrence of the eclipses of the sun and the moon 38
11. Of the motion of the moon 40
12. Of the motions of the planets and the general laws of their
aspects _ib._
13. Why the same stars appear at some times more lofty and at
other times more near 42
14. Why the same stars have different motions 47
15. General laws of the planets 48
16. The reason why the stars are of different colours 49
17. Of the motion of the sun and the cause of the irregularity
of the days 50
18. Why thunder is ascribed to Jupiter 51
19. Of the distances of the stars 52
20. Of the harmony of the stars _ib._
21. Of the dimensions of the world 53
22. Of the stars which appear suddenly, or of comets 55
23. Their nature, situation, and species 56
24. The doctrine of Hipparchus about the stars 59
25. Examples from history of celestial prodigies;
_Faces_, _Lampades_, and _Bolides_ _ib._
26. _Trabes Cælestes_; _Chasma Cæli_ 60
27. Of the colours of the sky and of celestial flame _ib._
28. Of celestial coronæ 61
29. Of sudden circles 62
30. Of unusually long eclipses of the sun _ib._
31. Many suns _ib._
32. Many moons 63
33. Daylight in the night _ib._
34. Burning shields _ib._
35. An ominous appearance in the heavens, that was seen
once only _ib._
36. Of stars which move about in various directions 64
37. Of the stars which are named Castor and Pollux _ib._
38. Of the air, and on the cause of the showers of stones 65
39. Of the stated seasons 66
40. Of the rising of the dog-star 67
41. Of the regular influence of the different seasons _ib._
42. Of uncertain states of the weather 69
43. Of thunder and lightning _ib._
44. The origin of winds 70
45. Various observations respecting winds 71
46. The different kinds of winds 73
47. The periods of the winds 75
48. Nature of the winds 77
49. Ecnephias and Typhon 79
50. Tornadoes; blasting winds; whirlwinds, and other wonderful
kinds of tempests 80
51. Of thunder; in what countries it does not fall, and for
what reason _ib._
52. Of the different kinds of lightning and their wonderful
effects 81
53. The Etrurian and the Roman observations on these points 82
54. Of conjuring up thunder 83
55. General laws of lightning 84
56. Objects which are never struck 86
57. Showers of milk, blood, flesh, iron, wool, and baked tiles 87
58. Rattling of arms and the sound of trumpets heard in
the sky 88
59. Of stones that have fallen from the clouds. The opinion of
Anaxagoras respecting them _ib._
60. The rainbow 89
61. The nature of hail, snow, hoar, mist, dew; the forms
of clouds 90
62. The peculiarities of the weather in different places 91
63. Nature of the earth _ib._
64. Of the form of the earth 94
65. Whether there be antipodes? _ib._
66. How the water is connected with the earth. Of the
navigation of the sea and the rivers 97
67. Whether the ocean surrounds the earth 98
68. What part of the earth is inhabited 100
69. That the earth is in the middle of the world 102
70. Of the obliquity of the zones _ib._
71. Of the inequality of climates _ib._
72. In what places eclipses are invisible, and why this is
the case 104
73. What regulates the daylight on the earth 105
74. Remarks on dials, as connected with this subject 106
75. When and where there are no shadows 107
76. Where this takes place twice in the year and where the
shadows fall in opposite directions 108
77. Where the days are the longest and where the shortest _ib._
78. Of the first dial 109
79. Of the mode in which the days are computed 110
80. Of the difference of nations as depending on the nature
of the world _ib._
81. Of earthquakes 111
82. Of clefts of the earth 112
83. Signs of an approaching earthquake 114
84. Preservatives against future earthquakes _ib._
85. Prodigies of the earth which have occurred once only 115
86. Wonderful circumstances attending earthquakes 116
87. In what places the sea has receded _ib._
88. The mode in which islands rise up 117
89. What islands have been formed, and at what periods 118
90. Lands which have been separated by the sea 119
91. Islands which have been united to the main land _ib._
92. Lands which have been totally changed into seas _ib._
93. Lands which have been swallowed up 120
94. Cities which have been absorbed by the sea _ib._
95. Of vents in the earth 121
96. Of certain lands which are always shaking, and of
floating islands 122
97. Places in which it never rains 123
98. The wonders of various countries collected together _ib._
99. Concerning the cause of the flowing and ebbing of the sea 124
100. Where the tides rise and fall in an unusual manner 127
101. Wonders of the sea 128
102. The power of the moon over the land and the sea _ib._
103. The power of the sun 129
104. Why the sea is salt _ib._
105. Where the sea is the deepest 130
106. The wonders of fountains and rivers 131
107. The wonders of fire and water united 138
108. Of Maltha 138
109. Of naphtha 139
110. Places which are always burning _ib._
111. Wonders of fire alone 141
112. The dimensions of the earth 143
113. The harmonical proportion of the universe 147
BOOK III.
AN ACCOUNT OF COUNTRIES, NATIONS, SEAS, TOWNS, HAVENS, MOUNTAINS,
RIVERS, DISTANCES, AND PEOPLES WHO NOW EXIST OR FORMERLY EXISTED.
Introduction 151
1. The boundaries and gulfs of Europe first set forth in
a general way 153
2. Of Spain generally _ib._
3. Of Bætica 154
4. Of Nearer Spain 164
5. Of the province of Gallia Narbonensis 174
6. Of Italy 180
7. Of the ninth region of Italy 184
8. The seventh region of Italy 186
9. The first region of Italy; the Tiber; Rome 191
10. The third region of Italy 207
11. Sixty-four islands, among which are the Baleares 210
12. Corsica 213
13. Sardinia 215
14. Sicily 216
15. Magna Græcia, beginning at Locri 222
16. The second region of Italy 225
17. The fourth region of Italy 231
18. The fifth region of Italy 235
19. The sixth region of Italy 237
20. The eighth region of Italy; the Padus 241
21. The eleventh region of Italy; Italia Transpadana 246
22. The tenth region of Italy 248
23. Istria, its people and locality 251
24. The Alps, and the Alpine nations 254
25. Liburnia and Illyricum 257
26. Dalmatia 259
27. The Norici 262
28. Pannonia 263
29. Mœsia 264
30. Islands of the Ionian Sea and the Adriatic 265
BOOK IV.
AN ACCOUNT OF COUNTRIES, NATIONS, SEAS, TOWNS, HAVENS, MOUNTAINS,
RIVERS, DISTANCES, AND PEOPLES WHO NOW EXIST OR FORMERLY EXISTED.
1. Epirus 271
2. Acarnania 273
3. Ætolia 275
4. Locris and Phocis 276
5. The Peloponnesus 278
6. Achaia 280
7. Messenia 282
8. Laconia 283
9. Argolis 284
10. Arcadia 285
11. Attica 288
12. Bœotia 290
13. Doris 293
14. Phthiotis 293
15. Thessaly Proper 294
16. Magnesia 296
17. Macedonia 297
18. Thrace; the Ægean Sea 302
19. The islands which lie before the lands already mentioned 310
20. Crete 313
21. Eubœa 316
22. The Cyclades 317
23. The Sporades 320
24. The Hellespont.—The lake Mæotis 326
25. Dacia, Sarmatia 329
26. Scythia 330
27. The islands of the Euxine. The islands of the northern
ocean 338
28. Germany 345
29. Ninety-six islands of the Gallic ocean 349
30. Britannia 350
31. Gallia Belgica 353
32. Gallia Lugdunensis 355
33. Gallia Aquitanica 357
34. Nearer Spain, its coast along the Gallic ocean 360
35. Lusitania 363
36. The islands in the Atlantic ocean 367
37. The general measurement of Europe 369
BOOK V.
AN ACCOUNT OF COUNTRIES, NATIONS, SEAS, TOWNS, HAVENS, MOUNTAINS,
RIVERS, DISTANCES, AND PEOPLES WHO NOW EXIST OR FORMERLY EXISTED.
1. The two Mauritanias 374
2. Numidia 387
3. Africa 388
4. The Syrtes 391
5. Cyrenaica 395
6. Libya Mareotis 401
7. The islands in the vicinity of Africa 402
8. Countries on the other side of Africa 403
9. Egypt and Thebais 406
10. The River Nile 410
11. The cities of Egypt 416
12. The coasts of Arabia, situate on the Egyptian Sea 422
13. Syria 423
14. Idumæa, Palæstina, and Samaria 424
15. Judæa 427
16. Decapolis 431
17. Phœnice 433
18. Syria Antiochia 436
19. The remaining parts of Syria 438
20. The Euphrates 441
21. Syria upon the Euphrates 443
22. Cilicia and the adjoining nations 446
23. Isauria and the Homonades 450
24. Pisidia 451
25. Lycaonia _ib._
26. Pamphylia 452
27. Mount Taurus 453
28. Lycia 455
29. Caria 458
30. Lydia 465
31. Ionia 466
32. Æolis 472
33. Troas and the adjoining nations 476
34. The islands which lie in front of Asia 479
35. Cyprus 480
36. Rhodes 483
37. Samos 485
38. Chios 486
39. Lesbos 487
40. The Hellespont and Mysia 488
41. Phrygia 490
42. Galatia and the adjoining nations 491
43. Bithynia 493
44. The islands of the Propontis 496
NATURAL HISTORY OF PLINY
BOOK I.[34]
DEDICATION.
C. PLINIUS SECUNDUS TO HIS FRIEND TITUS VESPASIAN.
This treatise on Natural History, a novel work in Roman literature,
which I have just completed, I have taken the liberty to dedicate to
you, most gracious[35] Emperor, an appellation peculiarly suitable to
you, while, on account of his age, that of _great_ is more appropriate
to your Father;—
“For still thou ne’er wouldst quite despise
The trifles that I write[36];”
if I may be allowed to shelter myself under the example of Catullus,
my fellow-countryman[37], a military term, which you well understand.
For he, as you know, when his napkins had been changed[38], expressed
himself a little harshly, from his anxiety to show his friendship
for his dear little _Veranius_ and _Fabius_[39]. At the same time
this my importunity may effect, what you complained of my not having
done in another too forward epistle of mine; it will put upon record,
and let all the world know, with what kindness you exercise the
imperial dignity. You, who have had the honour of a triumph, and of
the censorship, have been six times consul, and have shared in the
tribunate; and, what is still more honourable, whilst you held them in
conjunction with your Father, you have presided over the Equestrian
order, and been the Prefect of the Prætorians[40]: all this you have
done for the service of the Republic, and, at the same time, have
regarded me as a fellow-soldier and a messmate. Nor has the extent of
your prosperity produced any change in you, except that it has given
you the power of doing good to the utmost of your wishes. And whilst
all these circumstances increase the veneration which other persons
feel for you, with respect to myself, they have made me so bold, as to
wish to become more familiar. You must, therefore, place this to your
own account, and blame yourself for any fault of this kind that I may
commit.
But, although I have laid aside my blushes[41], I have not gained
my object; for you still awe me, and keep me at a distance, by the
majesty of your understanding. In no one does the force of eloquence
and of tribunitian oratory blaze out more powerfully! With what glowing
language do you thunder forth the praises of your Father! How dearly
do you love your Brother! How admirable is your talent for poetry!
What a fertility of genius do you possess, so as to enable you to
imitate your Brother[42]! But who is there that is bold enough to form
an estimate on these points, if he is to be judged by you, and, more
especially, if you are challenged to do so? For the case of those
who merely publish their works is very different from that of those
who expressly dedicate them to you. In the former case I might say,
Emperor! why do you read these things? They are written only for the
common people, for farmers or mechanics, or for those who have nothing
else to do; why do you trouble yourself with them? Indeed, when I
undertook this work, I did not expect that you would sit in judgement
upon me[43]; I considered your situation much too elevated for you to
descend to such an office. Besides, we possess the right of openly
rejecting the opinion of men of learning. M. Tullius himself, whose
genius is beyond all competition, uses this privilege; and, remarkable
as it may appear, employs an advocate in his own defence:—“I do not
write for very learned people; I do not wish my works to be read by
Manius Persius, but by Junius Congus[44].” And if Lucilius, who first
introduced the satirical style[45], applied such a remark to himself,
and if Cicero thought proper to borrow it, and that more especially
in his treatise “De Republica,” how much reason have I to do so, who
have such a judge to defend myself against! And by this dedication
I have deprived myself of the benefit of challenge[46]; for it is a
very different thing whether a person has a judge given him by lot, or
whether he voluntarily selects one; and we always make more preparation
for an invited guest, than for one that comes in unexpectedly.
When the candidates for office, during the heat of the canvass,
deposited the fine[47] in the hands of Cato, that determined opposer
of bribery, rejoicing as he did in his being rejected from what he
considered to be foolish honours, they professed to do this out of
respect to his integrity; the greatest glory which a man could attain.
It was on this occasion that Cicero uttered the noble ejaculation, “How
happy are you, Marcus Porcius, of whom no one dares to ask what is
dishonourable[48]!” When L. Scipio Asiaticus appealed to the tribunes,
among whom was Gracchus, he expressed full confidence that he should
obtain an acquittal, even from a judge who was his enemy. Hence it
follows, that he who appoints his own judge must absolutely submit to
the decision; this choice is therefore termed an appeal[49].
I am well aware, that, placed as you are in the highest station, and
gifted with the most splendid eloquence and the most accomplished
mind, even those who come to pay their respects to you, do it with a
kind of veneration: on this account I ought to be careful that what
is dedicated to you should be worthy of you. But the country people,
and, indeed, some whole nations offer milk to the Gods[50], and those
who cannot procure frankincense substitute in its place salted cakes;
for the Gods are not dissatisfied when they are worshiped by every one
to the best of his ability. But my temerity will appear the greater
by the consideration, that these volumes, which I dedicate to you,
are of such inferior importance. For they do not admit of the display
of genius, nor, indeed, is mine one of the highest order; they admit
of no excursions, nor orations, nor discussions, nor of any wonderful
adventures, nor any variety of transactions, nor, from the barrenness
of the matter, of anything particularly pleasant in the narration, or
agreeable to the reader. The nature of things, and life as it actually
exists, are described in them; and often the lowest department of it;
so that, in very many cases, I am obliged to use rude and foreign, or
even barbarous terms, and these often require to be introduced by a
kind of preface. And, besides this, my road is not a beaten track, nor
one which the mind is much disposed to travel over. There is no one
among us who has ever attempted it, nor is there any one individual
among the Greeks who has treated of all the topics. Most of us seek
for nothing but amusement in our studies, while others are fond of
subjects that are of excessive subtilty, and completely involved in
obscurity. My object is to treat of all those things which the Greeks
include in the Encyclopædia[51], which, however, are either not
generally known or are rendered dubious from our ingenious conceits.
And there are other matters which many writers have given so much in
detail that we quite loathe them. It is, indeed, no easy task to give
novelty to what is old, and authority to what is new; brightness to
what is become tarnished, and light to what is obscure; to render what
is slighted acceptable, and what is doubtful worthy of our confidence;
to give to all a natural manner, and to each its peculiar nature. It
is sufficiently honourable and glorious to have been willing even to
make the attempt, although it should prove unsuccessful. And, indeed,
I am of opinion, that the studies of those are more especially worthy
of our regard, who, after having overcome all difficulties, prefer the
useful office of assisting others to the mere gratification of giving
pleasure; and this is what I have already done in some of my former
works. I confess it surprises me, that T. Livius, so celebrated an
author as he is, in one of the books of his history of the city from
its origin, should begin with this remark, “I have now obtained a
sufficient reputation, so that I might put an end to my work, did not
my restless mind require to be supported by employment[52].” Certainly
he ought to have composed this work, not for his own glory, but for
that of the Roman name, and of the people who were the conquerors
of all other nations. It would have been more meritorious to have
persevered in his labours from his love of the work, than from the
gratification which it afforded himself, and to have accomplished it,
not for his own sake, but for that of the Roman people.
I have included in thirty-six[53] books 20,000 topics, all worthy
of attention, (for, as Domitius Piso[54] says, we ought to make
not merely books, but valuable collections,) gained by the perusal
of about 2000 volumes, of which a few only are in the hands of the
studious, on account of the obscurity of the subjects, procured by the
careful perusal of 100 select authors[55]; and to these I have made
considerable additions of things, which were either not known to my
predecessors, or which have been lately discovered. Nor can I doubt but
that there still remain many things which I have omitted; for I am a
mere mortal, and one that has many occupations. I have, therefore, been
obliged to compose this work at interrupted intervals, indeed during
the night, so that you will find that I have not been idle even during
this period. The day I devote to you, exactly portioning out my sleep
to the necessity of my health, and contenting myself with this reward,
that while we are musing[56] on these subjects (according to the remark
of Varro), we are adding to the length of our lives; for life properly
consists in being awake.
In consideration of these circumstances and these difficulties, I dare
promise nothing; but you have done me the most essential service in
permitting me to dedicate my work to you. Nor does this merely give
a sanction to it, but it determines its value; for things are often
conceived to be of great value, solely because they are consecrated in
temples.
I have given a full account of all your family—your Father, yourself,
and your Brother, in a history of our own times, beginning where
Aufidius Bassus concludes[57]. You will ask, Where is it? It has been
long completed and its accuracy confirmed[58]; but I have determined to
commit the charge of it to my heirs, lest I should have been suspected,
during my lifetime, of having been unduly influenced by ambition. By
this means I confer an obligation on those who occupy the same ground
with myself; and also on posterity, who, I am aware, will contend with
me, as I have done with my predecessors.
You may judge of my taste from my having inserted, in the beginning of
my book, the names of the authors that I have consulted. For I consider
it to be courteous and to indicate an ingenuous modesty, to acknowledge
the sources whence we have derived assistance, and not to act as most
of those have done whom I have examined. For I must inform you, that
in comparing various authors with each other, I have discovered, that
some of the most grave and of the latest writers have transcribed,
word for word, from former works, without making any acknowledgement;
not avowedly rivalling them, in the manner of Virgil, or with the
candour of Cicero, who, in his treatise “De Republica[59],” professes
to coincide in opinion with Plato, and in his Essay on Consolation for
his Daughter, says that he follows Crantor, and, in his Offices[60],
Panæcius; volumes, which, as you well know, ought not merely to be
always in our hands, but to be learned by heart. For it is indeed the
mark of a perverted mind and a bad disposition, to prefer being caught
in a theft to returning what we have borrowed, especially when we have
acquired capital, by usurious interest[61].
The Greeks were wonderfully happy in their titles. One work they called
Κηρίον, which means that it was as sweet as a honeycomb; another Κέρας
Ἀμαλθείας, or Cornu copiæ, so that you might expect to get even a
draught of pigeon’s milk from it[62]. Then they have their Flowers,
their Muses, Magazines, Manuals, Gardens, Pictures, and Sketches[63],
all of them titles for which a man might be tempted even to forfeit his
bail. But when you enter upon the works, O ye Gods and Goddesses! how
full of emptiness! Our duller countrymen have merely their Antiquities,
or their Examples, or their Arts. I think one of the most humorous of
them has his Nocturnal Studies[64], a term employed by Bibaculus; a
name which he richly deserved[65]. Varro, indeed, is not much behind
him, when he calls one of his satires A Trick and a Half, and another
Turning the Tables[66]. Diodorus was the first among the Greeks who
laid aside this trifling manner and named his history The Library[67].
Apion, the grammarian, indeed—he whom Tiberius Cæsar called the
Trumpeter of the World, but would rather seem to be the Bell of the
Town-crier[68],—supposed that every one to whom he inscribed any work
would thence acquire immortality. I do not regret not having given my
work a more fanciful title.
That I may not, however, appear to inveigh so completely against the
Greeks, I should wish to be considered under the same point of view
with those inventors of the arts of painting and sculpture, of whom
you will find an account in these volumes, whose works, although they
are so perfect that we are never satisfied with admiring them, are
inscribed with a temporary title[69], such as “Apelles, or Polycletus,
was doing this;” implying that the work was only commenced and still
imperfect, and that the artist might benefit by the criticisms that
were made on it and alter any part that required it, if he had not been
prevented by death. It is also a great mark of their modesty, that they
inscribed their works as if they were the last which they had executed,
and as still in hand at the time of their death. I think there are but
three works of art which are inscribed positively with the words “such
a one executed this;” of these I shall give an account in the proper
place. In these cases it appears, that the artist felt the most perfect
satisfaction with his work, and hence these pieces have excited the
envy of every one.
I, indeed, freely admit, that much may be added to my works; not only
to this, but to all which I have published. By this admission I hope to
escape from the carping critics[70], and I have the more reason to say
this, because I hear that there are certain Stoics and Logicians[71],
and also Epicureans (from the Grammarians[72] I expected as much),
who are big with something against the little work I published on
Grammar[73]; and that they have been carrying these abortions for ten
years together—a longer pregnancy this than the elephant’s[74]. But I
well know, that even a woman once wrote against Theophrastus, a man so
eminent for his eloquence that he obtained his name, which signifies
the Divine speaker[75], and that from this circumstance originated the
proverb of choosing a tree to hang oneself[76].
I cannot refrain from quoting the words of Cato the censor, which are
so pertinent to this point. It appears from them, that even Cato, who
wrote commentaries on military discipline[77], and who had learned the
military art under Africanus, or rather under Hannibal (for he could
not endure Africanus[78], who, when he was his general, had borne away
the triumph from him), that Cato, I say, was open to the attacks of
such as caught at reputation for themselves by detracting from the
merits of others. And what does he say in his book? “I know, that when
I shall publish what I have written, there will be many who will do
all they can to depreciate it, and, especially, such as are themselves
void of all merit; but I let their harangues glide by me.” Nor was the
remark of Plancus[79] a bad one, when Asinius Pollio[80] was said to
be preparing an oration against him, which was to be published either
by himself or his children, after the death of Plancus, in order that
he might not be able to answer it: “It is only ghosts that fight with
the dead.” This gave such a blow to the oration, that in the opinion
of the learned generally, nothing was ever thought more scandalous.
Feeling myself, therefore, secure against these vile slanderers[81], a
name elegantly composed by Cato, to express their slanderous and vile
disposition (for what other object have they, but to wrangle and breed
quarrels?), I will proceed with my projected work.
And because the public good requires that you should be spared as much
as possible from all trouble, I have subjoined to this epistle the
contents of each of the following books[82], and have used my best
endeavours to prevent your being obliged to read them all through. And
this, which was done for your benefit, will also serve the same purpose
for others, so that any one may search for what he wishes, and may
know where to find it. This has been already done among us by Valerius
Soranus, in his work which he entitled “On Mysteries[83].”
The 1st book is the Preface of the Work, dedicated to Titus Vespasian
Cæsar.
The 2nd is on the World, the Elements, and the Heavenly Bodies[84].
The 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th books are on Geography, in which is
contained an account of the situation of the different countries,
the inhabitants, the seas, towns, harbours, mountains, rivers, and
dimensions, and the various tribes, some of which still exist and
others have disappeared.
The 7th is on Man, and the Inventions of Man.
The 8th on the various kinds of Land Animals.
The 9th on Aquatic Animals.
The 10th on the various kinds of Birds.
The 11th on Insects.
The 12th on Odoriferous Plants.
The 13th on Exotic Trees.
The 14th on Vines.
The 15th on Fruit Trees.
The 16th on Forest Trees.
The 17th on Plants raised in nurseries or gardens.
The 18th on the nature of Fruits and the Cerealia, and the pursuits
of the Husbandman.
The 19th on Flax, Broom[85], and Gardening.
The 20th on the Cultivated Plants that are proper for food and for
medicine.
The 21st on Flowers and Plants that are used for making Garlands.
The 22nd on Garlands, and Medicines made from Plants.
The 23rd on Medicines made from Wine and from cultivated Trees.
The 24th on Medicines made from Forest Trees.
The 25th on Medicines made from Wild Plants.
The 26th on New Diseases, and Medicines made, for certain Diseases,
from Plants.
The 27th on some other Plants and Medicines.
The 28th on Medicines procured from Man and from large Animals.
The 29th on Medical Authors, and on Medicines from other Animals.
The 30th on Magic, and Medicines for certain parts of the Body.
The 31st on Medicines from Aquatic Animals.
The 32nd on the other properties of Aquatic Animals.
The 33rd on Gold and Silver.
The 34th on Copper and Lead, and the workers of Copper.
The 35th on Painting, Colours, and Painters.
The 36th on Marbles and Stones.
The 37th on Gems.