objects reprefented the cuftomary ornaments of this rite." "Below even this fpacious grotto there feemed another cavern ; down which I ventured with my former mariner, and defcended about fifty paces by means of a rope. I at laft arrived at a small spot of level ground, where the bottom appeared different from that of the amphitheatre, being compofed of foft clay, yielding to the prefsure, and in which I thruft a ftick to the depth of fix feet. In this, however, as above, numbers of the most beautiful crystals were formed; one of which, particularly, refembled a table. Upon our egrefs from this amazing cavern, we perceived a Greek infcription upon a rock at the mouth, but fo obliterated by time, that we could not read it diftinctly. It seemed to import that one Antipater, in the time of Alexander, had come hither; but whether he penetrated into the depths of the cavern, he does not think fit to inform us." This account of fo beautiful and ftriking a scene, may serve to give us fome idea of the fubterraneous wonders of nature. GOLDSMITH. SECTION V. Earthquake at Catanea. ONE of the earthquakes moft particularly defcribed in hiftory, is that which happened in the year 1693; the damages of which were chiefly felt in Sicily, but its motion was perceived in Germany, France, and England. It extended to a circumference of two thousand fix hundred leagues; chiefly affecting the were fea-coafts, and great rivers; more perceivable alfo Its motions upon the mountains than in the valleys. were fo rapid, that perfons who lay at their length, were tofsed from fide to fide, as upon a rolling billow. The walls dafhed from their founda. tions; and no fewer than fifty-four cities, with an incredible number of villages, were either destroyed or greatly damaged. The city of Catanea, in particular, was utterly overthrown. A traveller, who was on his way thither, perceived, at the distance of fome miles, a black cloud, like night, hanging over the place. The fea, all of a fudden, began to roar ; Mount Etna to fend forth great fpires of flame; and foon after a fhock enfued, with a noise as if all the artillery in the world had been at once difcharged. Our traveller, being obliged to alight inftantly, felt himself raised a foot from the ground; and turning his. eyes to the city, he with amazement faw nothing but a thick cloud of duft in the air. The birds flew about aftonifhed; the fun was darkened; the beafts ran howling from the hills; and although the fhock did not continue above three minutes, yet near nineteen thousand of the inhabitants of Sicily perished in the ruins. Catanea, to which city the defcriber was travelling, feemed the, principal scene of ruin; its place only was to be found; and not a footstep of its former magnificence was to be feen remaining. GOLDSMITH. SECTION VI. Creation. IN the progrefs of the Divine works and government, there arrived a period, in which this earth was to be called into exiftence. When the fignal moment, predeftined from all eternity, was come, the Deity arofe in his might; and with a word created the world.— What an illuftrious moment was that, when, from nonexistence, there sprang at once into being, this mighty globe, on which fo many millions of creatures now dwell! No preparatory meafures were required. No long circuit of means was employed. "He fpake; and it was done: He commanded; and it ftood fast. The earth was at first without form, and void; and darknefs was on the face of the deep." The Almighty furveyed the dark abyfs; and fixed bounds to the feveral divifions of nature. He faid, "Let there be light; and there was light." Then appeared the fea, and the dry land. The mountains rofe; and the rivers flowed. The fun and moon began their courfe in the fkies. Herbs and plants clothed the ground. The air, the earth, and the waters, were ftored with their refpective inhabitants. At laft, man was made after the image of God. He appeared, walking with countenance erect; and received his Creator's benediction, as the Lord of this new world. The Almighty beheld his work when it was finifhed; and pronounced it GOOD. Superior beings faw with wonder this new. accefsion to existence. "The morning ftars fang to gether; and all the fons of God shouted for joy.” BLAIR. SECTION VII. On Charity. CHARITY is the fame with benevolence or love; and is the term uniformly employed in the New Testament, to denote all the good affections which we ought to bear towards one another. It confifts not in fpeculative ideas of general benevolence, floating in the head, and leaving the heart, as fpeculations too often do, untouched and cold. Neither is it confined to that indolent good nature, which makes us reft fatisfied with being free from inveterate malice, or ill-will to our fellow-creatures, without prompting us to be of fervice to any. True charity is an active. principle. It is not properly a fingle virtue; but a difpofition refiding in the heart, as a fountain whence all the virtues of benignity, candour, forbearance, generosity, compassion, and liberality, flow, as fo many native ftreams. From general good-will to all, it extends its influence particularly to thofe with whom we ftand in neareft connexion, and who are directly within the fphere of our good offices. From the country or community to which we belong, it defcends to the smaller afsociations of neighbourhood, relations, and friends; and fpreads itself over the whole circle of focial and domestic life. I mean not that it imports a promifcuous undiftinguishing affection, which gives every man an equal title to our love. Charity, if we should endeavour to carry it fo far, would be rendered an impracticable virtue; and would refolve itself into mere words, without affecting the heart. True charity attempts not to fhut our eyes to the diftinction between good and bad men; nor to warm our hearts equally to those who befriend, and those who injure us. It referves our esteem for good men, and our complacency for our friends. Towards our enemies it infpires forgiveness, humanity, and a folicitude for their welfare. It breathes univerfal candour, and liberality of fentiment. It forms gentleness of temper, and dictates affability of manners. It prompts correfponding fympathies with them who rejoice, and them who weep. It teaches us to flight and defpife no man. Charity is the comforter of the afflicted, the protector of the oppressed, the reconciler of differences, the intercefsor for offenders. It is faithfulnefs in the friend, public fpirit in the magiftrate, equity and patience in the judge, moderation in the fovereign, and loyalty in the fubject. In parents, it is care and attention; in children, it is reverence and fubmifsion. In a word, it is the foul of social life. It is the fun that enlivens and cheers the abodes of men. It is "like the dew of Hermon," fays the Pfalmift," and the dew that defcendeth on the mountains of Zion, where the Lord commanded the blefsing, even life for evermore." BLAIR. SECTION VIII. Profperity is redoubled to a good Man. NONE but the temperate, the regular, and the virtuous, know how to enjoy profperity. They bring to its comforts the manly relish of a found uncorrupted mind. They ftop at the proper point, before enjoyment degenerates into difguft, and pleasure is con |