understanding, but almost of sense itself. ‘I cannot conceive,’ says Cicero (De Nat. Deor. lib. II.) ‘why the man who thinks this possible, should not also imagine that, if innumerable forms of letters, whether of gold, or of any other kind, should be thrown together into some receptacle, there could be accidentally made out of these, when shaken out upon the ground, annals capable of being read; whereas I doubt whether chance could effect any thing of the kind, even as far as a single verse. But