which they did, with equal rapidity, nearly at the same instant. As danger now appeared to threaten as much from the sea as on land, I returned to the area where the church had stood, which I beheld sink in ruins. Thence, the ships were seen rolling and tossing as in a furious storm. Some of them had broken their cables, and were driven to the other side of the Tagus; others were whirled round with astonishing swiftness; several large boats were turned keel upwards. A new quay, constructed of rough marble, was entirely swallowed up, with a multitude of persons who had taken refuge upon it, and imagined themselves to be in perfect safety. When the second shock took place, to those who were on board the vessels the whole city seemed to wave backwards and forwards, like the sea when the wind begins to rise. The river immediately rose twenty feet, and in a moment subsided. At that fearful instant, they saw the quay sink down, with the whole multitude upon it; and all the boats and vessels near enough were drawn into that horrible vortex, which closed upon them, so that not a sign or wreck of them was seen afterwards. From some of the fissures in the ground, fine white sand was ejected to a prodigious height. A third shock, less violent, quickly followed. The sea again advanced, and retired with equal celerity. To complete the dreadful catastrophe, when night came on, the whole remaining city appeared to be enveloped in one immense blaze. It was

on fire in at least a hundred different places at once. This fatal day being a solemn festival of

the Roman Catholic church, lamps and tapers were lighted in every chapel. These, setting fire to the curtains and wood-work, soon communicated the flames to the adjoining houses, and spread the conflagration far and wide. More than sixty thousand persons have perished in this common and most severe calamity; and rich and poor who survive are reduced to the same level of poverty and suffering.

EARTHQUAKES IN CALABRIA.

THE year 1783 was fatally marked by the desolation of the most fertile and beautiful regions of Europe. Calabria in Italy, with parts of Sicily, were the scenes of the most tremendous earthquakes ever experienced, even in those volcanic countries. A succession of those operations of nature, beginning at the city of Amantea, on the coast of the Tyrrhene sea, proceeded along the western shore to Cape Spartivento, and up the eastern side as far as Cape Alice, and left not one town undestroyed through the whole of that extensive tract. For several months, the earth continued in an unceasing tremor, increasing at certain intervals to violent shocks; some of which were horizontal, whirling like a vortex; others vertical, like pulsations beating upwards; and were sometimes so violent, that the heads of the loftiest trees almost touched the ground, rocking from side to side. During a great part of the time, the rains were continual

and violent, often accompanied with lightning and furious gusts of wind. Houses, churches, towns, and villages, were buried in one promiscuous ruin. Hills were overthrown, and carried to considerable distances from their original situations. Rivers suddenly forsook their channels, and returned as suddenly, inundating the adjacent lands. Streams of water gushing from the earth were thrown up high into the air. Large plantations of olive and mulberry trees were instantaneously transmitted from one place to another. The town of Casal Nuova was overwhelmed with hasty and complete destruction; the Princess Gerace Grimaldi perishing in a moment, with four thousand of her subjects. An inhabitant of that country, who happened to be on the summit of a neighbouring hill when the destroying shock came, looking earnestly back to the residence of his family, could discern no traces of it; but beheld only the horrid cloud of dust which rose from the falling houses. The inhabitants of Scylla escaped from their town situated on the celebrated rock of that name, fled with their prince to a little harbour at the base of the hill; but a refluent wave, which had been driven far on land, swept them away into the deep with irresistible force. It is computed that upwards of forty thousand persons perished by these earthquakes.

DESCRIPTION OF THE DESERT AND MONASTERY OF THE GRAND CHARTREUSE, GIVEN BY CLAUDE LANCELOT IN THE YEAR 1667.

FROM Annecy we proceeded to the grand Chartreuse, near Grenoble. No adequate description can be given of the awful magnificence of this dreary solitude. For some hours we travelled through a thinly inhabited country: here and there we saw a few scattered huts interspersed, but soon even these disappeared. No object is offered to the eye, but barren wastes or dark forests, which seemed of almost interminable length, and were nearly impervious to the light. During the morning we saw many herds of wild deer, with hares and foxes in great numbers, and not unfrequently we were alarmed by the howling of wolves. Gradually the forests became hilly, and then rocky. Our attention was solely occupied by the romantic beauty of the surrounding scenery, when the forest suddenly opened, and we, saw before us what is properly the entrance to the desert of the grand Chartreuse.

Imagine a gloomy forest, abruptly terminated by immense mountains. The summits covered with snow, and the sides presenting a bare front of naked rock, and beetling brows, undiversified by the least symptom of vegetation. The desert of the Chartreuse is accessible only by one exceedingly narrow defile. This pass, which is no more than a few feet wide, is truly tremendous. It winds between stupendous granite rocks, which overhang and appear every moment ready

to fall with dreadful crash, and overwhelm the awe-struck traveller. Indeed, the crags above project so far beyond the perpendicular, that they seem to be suspended absolutely without support. They cast such an awful gloom on the path, that the horses, as well as ourselves, seemed impressed with fear, and ready to start back at the strangeness of the scene, and the sullen, hollow echo of every footfall. At the farther end of the defile, is a tumbling mountaintorrent. We crossed it on a rude stone-bridge, and at a short turning of the road, suddenly came in sight of the tremendous Alp on which the monastery is placed. The mountain on which it is situated, though apparently of inaccessible height, is yet surrounded by rocks still more elevated, whose tops are quite snow-capped. Beyond the defile neither animal nor vegetable life is perceivable. No huntsman winds his horn in these dreary solitudes; no shepherd's pipe disturbs the dead repose, nor awakens the echoes of the crags. The mountaineers never lead their flocks beyond this entrance; even beasts of prey seem to shrink back from the dreaded pass, and instinctively to avoid a desert which furnishes neither subsistence nor covert. Nothing meets the eye but dreadful precipices and rude fragments of rock, diversified with glaciers in every possible fantastic figure. Our mules began to ascend slowly. The road is rough, and winds round the mountain. To describe the terrors of the ascent is no easy task. Sometimes the path was merely a narrow ledge, scarcely affording footing for the mules, and over-hanging