fea-coafts, and great rivers; more perceivable allo upon the mountains than in the valleys. Its motions were fo rapid, that perfons who lay at their length, were tofsed from fide to fide, as upon a rolling billow. The walls were dafhed from their foundations; and no fewer than fifty-four cities, with an incredible number of villages, were either deftroyed 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 soon after a fhock ensued, 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 aftonished; the fun was darkened; the beasts ran howling from the hills; and, although the fhock did not continue above three minutes, yet near nineteen thousand of the inhabitants of Sicily perithed 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, predefined from all eternity, was come, the Deity arose in his might; and with a word created the world.— What an illuftrious moment was that, when, from nonexiftence, there fprang at once into being, this mighty globe, on which fo many millions of creatures now dwell!-No preparatory measures were required. No long circuit of means was employed. "He fpake; and it was done: He commanded; and it ftood faft. The earth was at firft 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 finished; and pronounced it GOOD. Superior beings faw with wonder this new accefsion to existence. "The morning ftars fang together; and all the fons of God fhouted for joy."

SECTION VII.

On Charity.

CHARITY is the fame with benevolence or love; and is the term uniformly employed, in the New Teftament, 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 service 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, generofity, compafsion, 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 nearest 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 associations of neighbourhood, relations, and friends; and fpreads itself over the whole circle of focial and domeftic life. I mean not that it imports a promifcuous undistinguishing 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 itfelf into mere words, without affecting the heart. True charity attempts not to shut 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 forgivenefs, 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 despise no man. Charity is the comforter of the afflicted, the protector of the opprefsed, 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 focial 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 blessing, 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 disgust, and pleasure is con

verted into pain. They are ftrangers to thofe complaints which flow from fpleen, caprice, and all the fantastical diftrefses of a vitiated mind. While riotous indulgence enervates both the body and the mind, purity and virtue heighten all the powers of human fruition.

eye

Feeble are all pleasures in which the heart has no fhare. The selfish gratifications of the bad, are both narrow in their circle, and fhort in their duration. But profperity 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 intercourfe of domestic affection, in the attachment of friends, the gratitude of dependents, the esteem and good-will of all who know him, he fees blefsings multiplied round him, on every fide. "When the ear heard me, then it blefsed me; and when the faw me, it gave witness to me: Because I delivered the poor that cried, the fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blefsing of him that was ready to perish came upon me, and I caused the widow's heart to fing with joy. I was eyes to the blind, and feet was I to the lame: I was a father to the poor; and the caufe which I knew not, I fearched out."-Thus, while the righteous man flourishes like a tree planted by the rivers of water, he brings forth alfo his fruit in its feafon: And that fruit, he brings forth, not for himfelf alone. He flourishes, not like a tree in fome folitary defert, which scatters its blofsoms to the wind, and communicates neither fruit nor fhade to any living. thing but like a tree in the midft of an inhabited country, which to fome affords friendly fhelter, to others, fruit; which is not only admired by all for its