servoir of water. Upon this information, we made an experiment, by throwing down some stones, which rumbling along the sides of the descent for some time, the sound seemed at last quashed in a bed of water. In order, however, to be more certain, we sent in a Levantine mariner, who, by the promise of a good reward, ventured, with a flambeau in his hand, into this narrow aperture. After continuing within it for about a quarter of an hour, he returned, bearing in his hand, some beautiful pieces of white spar, which art could neither equal nor imitate. Upon being informed by him that the place was full of these beautiful incrustations, I ventured in once more with him, about fifty paces, anxiously and cautiously descending, by a steep and dangerous way. Finding however, that we came to a precipice which led into a spacious amphitheatre, (if I may so call it,) still, deeper than any other part, we returned, and being provided with a ladder flambeau, and other things to expedite our descent, our whole company, man by man, ventured into the same opening; and descending one after another, we at last saw ourselves all together in the most magnificent part of the cavern."

SECTION IV.

The Grotto of Antiparos continued.

"Our candles being now all lighted up, and the whole place completely illuminated, never could the eye be presented with a more glittering, or a more magnificent scene. The whole roof hung with solid icicles, transparent as glass, yet solid as marble. The eye could scarcely reach the lofty aud noble ceiling; the sides were regularly formed with spars; and the whole presented the idea of a magnificent theatre, illuminated with an immense profusion of lights. The floor consisted of solid marble; and, in several places, magnificent columns, thrones, altars, and other objects, appeared, as if nature had designed to mock the curiosities of art. Our voices, upon speaking or singing, were redoubled to an astonishing loudness; and upon the firing of a gun, the noise and reverberations were almost deafening. In the midst of this grand amphitheatre rose a concretion of about fifteen feet high, that in some measure, resembled an altar; from which, taking the hint, we caused mass to be celebrated there. The beautiful columns that shot up round the altar, appeared like candlesticks; and many other natural objects represented the customary ornaments of this rite.

"Below even this spacious grotto there seemed another

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cavern; down which I ventured with my former mariner, -and descended about fifty paces by means of a rope. I at last arrived at a small spot of level ground where the bottom appeared different from that of the amphitheatre, being composed of soft clay, yielding to the pressure, and in which I thrust a stick to the depth of six feet. In this, however, as above, numbers of the most beautiful crystals were formed; one of which particularly resembled a table. Upon our egress from this amazing cavern, we perceived ceived a Greek inscription

= upon a rock at the mouth, but so obliterated by time, that we could not read it distinctly. 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 so beautiful and Estriking a scene, may serve to give us some idea of the subterraneous wonders of nature. GOLDSMITH,

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SECTION V.

Earthquake at Catanea.

ONE of the earthquakes most particularly described in his tory, 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 six hundred leagues; chiefly affecting the sea coasts and great rivers; more perceivable also upon the mountains than in the valleys. Its motions were so rapid, that persons who lay at their length were tossed from side to side as upon a rolling billow. The walls were dashed from their foundations; and no fewer than fifty. four cities, with an incredible number of villages, were either destroyed or greatly damaged. The city of Catanea, in par ticular, was utterly overthrown. A traveller, who was on his way thither, perceived, at the distance of some miles, a black cloud, like night, hanging over the place. The sea, all ofs sudden began to roar; Mount Aetna to send forth great spires of flame; and soon after a shock ensued, with a noise as il all the artillery in the world had been at once discharged. Our travelier, being obliged to alight instantly, felt himself raised a fopt from the ground; and turning his eyes to the city, he with amazement saw nothing but a thick cloud of dust in the air. The birds flew about astonished; the sun was darkened; the beasts ran howling from the hills; and although the shock did not continue above three minutes, yet near nineteen thousand of the inhabitants of Sicily perished in the ruins. Catanea, to which city the describer was travelling, seemed the principal scene of ruin; its place only was to be found; and not a footstep of its former magnificence was to be seen remaining.

SECTION VI.
Creation.

GOLDSMITH.

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Is the progress of the Divine works and government, there arrived a period, in which this earth was to be called into jexistence. When the signal, moment, predestined from all eternity, was come, the Deity arose in his might; and with a word created the world. What an illustrious moment was that, when from non-existence, there sprang at once into being this mighty globe, on which so many millions of creatures now dwell! No preparatory measures were required. No long circuit of means was employed. "He spake; and it was done: He commanded; and it stood fast. The earth was at first without form, and void; and darkness was on the face of the deep." The Almighty surveyed the dark abyss; and fixed bounds to the several divisions of nature. He said "Let there be light; and there was light." Then appeared the sea and the dry land. The mountains rose; and the rivers flowed. The sun and moon began their course in the skies. Herbs and plants clothed the ground. The air, the earth, and the waters, were stored with their respec tive inhabitants. At last, man was made after the image of God. Hnot only awwalking with countenance erect; and received his Creator's benediction, as the lord of this new world. The Almighty beheld his work when it was finished; and pronounced it GOOD. Superior beings saw with wonder this! new accession to existence. "The morning stars sang to-i gether; and all the sons of God shouted for joy." BLAIR.

SECTION VII.

On Charity.

CHARITY is the same 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 consists not in speculative ideas of general benevolence, floating in the head, and leaving the heart, as speculations too often do, untouched and cold. Neither is it confined to that indolent good nature, which makes us rest satisfied with being free from inveterate malice, or ill-will to our fellow creatures, without prompting us to be of service to any. True charity is an active principle. It is not properly a single virtue; but a disposition residing in the

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heart, as a fountain whence all the virtues of benignity candour, forbearance, generosity, compassion, and liberality, flow, as so many native streams. From general good will to all, it extends its influence particularly to those with whom we stand in nearest connection, and who are directly within the sphere of our good offices. From the country or community to which we belong, it descends to the smaller associations of neighbourhoods, relations, and friends; and spreads itself over the whole circle of social and domessie life. I mean not that it imports a promiseyous undistinguished affection, which gives every man an equal title to our love. Charity, if we should endeavour to carry it too far, would be rendered an impracticable virtue; and would resolve it self into mere words, without affecting the heart. True chari ty attempts not to shut our eyes to the distinction between good and bad men; nor to warm our hearts equally to those who befriend, and those who injure us. It reserves our esteem for good men, and our complacency for our friends Towards our enemies it inspires forgiveness, humanity, and a solicitude for their welfare. It breathes universal candour, and liberality of sentiment. It forms gentleness of temper, and dietates affability of manners. It prompts cor responding sympathies with them who rejoice, and them who weep. It teaches us to slight and despise no man. Chari ty is the comforter of the afflicted, the protector of the op pressed, the reconciler of differences, thaileys, Ite for of fenders. It is faithfulness in the friend, public spirit in the magistrate, equity and patience in the judge, moderation in the sovereign, and loyalty in the subject. In parents, it is care and attention; in children, it is reverence and submission. In a word, it is the soul of social life. It is the sun that enlivens and cheers the abodes of men. It is "like the dew of Hermon," says the Psalmist, "and the dew that descendeth on the mountains of Zion, where the Lord commandeth the blessing, even life for evermore."

SECTION VIIL.

BLAIR

Prosperity is redoubled to a good Man, NONE but the temperate, the regular, and the virtuous, know how to enjoy prosperity. They bring to its comforts the manly relish of a sound uncorrupted mind. They stop at the proper point, before enjoyment degenerates into disgust, and pleasure is converted into pain. They are stran gers to those complaints which flow from spleen, caprice, and all the fantastical distresses of a vitiated mind. While riot ous indulgence enervates both the body and the mind, purity and virtue heighten all the powers of human fruition.

Feeble are all pleasures in which the heart has no share. The selfish gratifications of the bad, are both narrow in their circle, and short in their duration. But prosperity is redoubled to a good man, by his generous use of it. It is reflected back upon him from every one whom he makes happy. In the intercourse of domestic affection, in the attachment of friends, the gratitude of dependents, the esteem and goodwill of all who know him, he sees blessings multiplied round. him, on every side. "When the ear heard me, then it blessed me; and when the eye saw me, it gave witness to me : because I delivered the poor that cried, the fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon me, and I caused the widow's heart to sing with joy. I was eyes to the blind, and feet was I to the lame : I was a father to the poor; and the cause which I knew not, I searched out." Thus while the rightcous man flourishes like a tree planted by the rivers of water, he brings forth also his fruit in its season: and that fruit he brings forth, not for himself alone. He flourishes, not like a tree in some solitary desert, which scatters its blossoms to the wind, and communicates neither fruit nor shade to any living thing; but like a tree in the midst of an inhabited country, which to some affords friendly shelter, to others, fruit; which is not only admired by all for its beauty; but blessed by the traveller for the shade, and by the hungry, for the sustenance it hath given..

SECTION IX.

On the Beauties of the Psalms.

BLAIR.

GREATNESS confers no exemption from the cares and sorrows of life; its share of them frequently bears a melancholy proportion to its exaltation. This the monarch of Israel experienced. He sought in piety, that peace which he could not find in empire; and alleviated the disquietudes of state, with the exercises of devotion. His invaluable Psalms convey those comforts to others, which they afforded to himself. Composed upon particular occasions, yet designed for general use; delivered out as services for Israelites under the Law, yet no less adapted to the circumstances of Christians under the Gospel; they present religion to us in the most engaging dress; communicating truths which philosophy could never investigate, in a style which poetry can never equal; while history is made the vehicle of prophecy; and ereation