Having now treated of all the works of Nature, let me end with a word about our native land. Throughout the whole earth, wherever the vault of heaven extends, there is no country so beautiful, or which, for the productions of Nature, merits so high a rank as Italy, that ruler and second parent of the world; recommended as she is by her men, her women, her generals, her soldiers, her slaves, her superiority in the arts, and the illustrious examples of genius which she has produced. Her situation, too, is equally in her favor; the salubrity and mildness of her climate; the easy access which she offers to all nations; her coasts indented with so many harbors; the propitious breezes that ever prevail on her shores; advantages, all of them, due to her situation, lying as she does, midway between the East and the West. Add to this, the abundant supply of her waters, the salubrity of her groves, the repeated intersections of her mountain ranges, the comparative innocuousness of her wild animals, the fertility of her soil, and the singular richness of her pastures. In short, whatever there is that can minister comfort to the life of man is nowhere else to be found in greater perfection. The cereals, wine, oil, wool, flax, tissues, and oxen—the finest are here. No horses are preferred to those of Italy for the course; while in mines of gold, silver, copper, and iron, Italy is held inferior to no country whatsoever. Ever teeming with these treasures, she lavishes upon us all her bounties of land and sea.

Hail to thee, Nature, thou parent of all things! and do thou deign to show thy favor unto me, who, alone of all the citizens of Rome, have, in thy every department, thus made known thy praise.