Note 654 — PART THE THIRD. (continued 2)
Reading edition
That a very perceptible change, generally speaking, has taken place in the climate of Great Britain, and that the same observation applies to other countries, has been a frequent subject of remark, both with the past and present generation. Various causes have been assigned for this peculiarity. It has been said that nature is growing old, and losing its elasticity and vigour. Others have attributed the change to the vast accumulation of ice in the Polar regions, and its consequent influence on the temperature of the air. Dr. Darwin humorously suggested the scheme of giving rudders and sails to the Ice Islands, that they might be wafted by northern gales, and thus be absorbed by the heat of a southern latitude. It is worthy of remark that in Milton's Latin Poems, there is a college thesis on this subject, viz. whether nature was becoming old and infirm. Milton took the negative of this proposition, and maintained, naturam non pati senium, that nature was not growing old. Cowper in his translation of this poem, thus renders some of the passages.
How?—Shall the face of nature then be plough'd Into deep wrinkles, and shall years at last On the great Parent fix a sterile curse? Shall even she confess old age, and halt, And, palsy-smitten, shake her starry brows?— Shall Time's unsated maw crave and ingulph The very heav'ns, that regulate his flight?— No. The Almighty Father surer laid His deep foundations, and providing well For the event of all, the scales of Fate Suspended, in just equipoise, and bade His universal works, from age to age, One tenour hold, perpetual, undisturb'd.— Not tardier now is Saturn than of old, Nor radiant less the burning casque of Mars. Phœbus, his vigour unimpair'd, still shows Th' effulgence of his youth, nor needs the god A downward course, that he may warm the vales; But, ever rich in influence, runs his road, Sign after sign, through all the heavenly zone. Beautiful as at first, ascends the star From odorif'rous Ind, whose office is To gather home betimes th' ethereal flock, To pour them o'er the skies again at eve, And to discriminate the night and day. Still Cynthia's changeful horn waxes and wanes Alternate, and with arms extended still, She welcomes to her breast her brother's beams. Nor have the elements deserted yet Their functions.— Thus, in unbroken series, all proceeds; And shall, till, wide involving either pole And the immensity of yonder heav'n, The final flames of destiny absorb The world, consum'd in one enormous pyre!