FEB. VIII.

The Sun does not always appear.

CLOUDS of rain and snow do not always cover the sky. The clouds sometimes disperse, after having spread over the earth the great pro vision of water they had collected. Then, the most agreeable serenity appears in the sky. The sight of the sun, which dark clouds had deprived us of for some days, revives every creature, and fills them with joy and animation. During summer, we are accustomed to the presence of this beautiful light; but, as it seldom appears in winter, and then only for a few hours, we learn to value it the more. Is not this a remark we may make, in regard to every other gift of God? Is it not true, that we are but little sensible of the blessings of this life, and that we look on them often with indifference, when in our possession? Health, repose, friendship, an easy income, and a thousand other blessings, which we daily en. joy, do not appear to us as great as they really are; and we often continue insensible of their value, till we have lost them. We must be on a sick-bed, deserted by our friends, in want and poverty, before we fully feel the happiness of enjoying good health, of having a faithful friend, and the means of subsisting comfortably.

When the sun brightens up, after having long been darkened with clouds, the earth still looks dismal. It is true, that it is a little improved by its rays, but it is not sufficient to restore it to all its beauty. The sun has not yet sufficient power to conquer the cold,which has hardened the earth, nor to revive nature, which appears dead. It is like the light of the mind, which does not always warm the heart. Those who languish in misery

and affliction feel this. It happens sometimes, that in the winter of life, or in other sad and unhappy circumstances, we see joy and pleasure at a distance, without being able to taste the fruits of them. We owe, however, thanksgivings to our heavenly Benefactor, for those gleams of joy, which now and then refresh our souls, and soften our cares and sorrows, were it but for a few moments. I limit myself, O God, to this one favour, which I beg of thee,---If it is thy will that some of my latter days should be sad and gloomy, I will not murmur at it, I will not lose courage; grant only that my soul may be now and then revived with some rays of joy, and that I may have a distant view of a happy futurity. All that I dare ask, is some moments of ease and comfort; they will enable me to support, with courage, the cloudy days of adversity. How uncertain is the serenity of the sky in winter: how little can we depend on the beneficent rays of the sun! It appears now with mild majesty, but it will soon be covered with clouds; and, before noon, the splendour and beauty with which it enlivened the earth this morn, will all disappear. Such is also the uncertainty of every scene through life. We can never promise ourselves lasting or uninterrupted happiness. It ought to make us wise and prudent in the days of prosperity, and moderate our love of earthly enjoyments. Every thing is liable to change. Virtue only is unchangeable. That alone can enable us to support the vicissitudes and distresses of this world, and give us fortitude to bear adversity or prosperity, till it lead us to those blest regions where we shall be perfectly happy, without a shadow of variation or change.

FEB. IX.

Earthquakes.

OUR earth suffers two kinds of shocks; one is occasioned by the action of subterraneous fires, and by the explosion of volcanos. These commotions are only felt at small distances, and only when the volcanos work just before the entire eruption. As soon as the matter which forms the subterraneous fires comes to ferment and blaze, the fire makes an effort on all sides; and if it does not naturally find a vent, it raises the earth, and makes itself a passage, by throwing it up with violence. But earthquakes of this kind only extend for the space of a few miles. They shake the earth like the explosion of a magazine of powder, which produces a shock, and a sensible commotion at several leagues distance. But there is another sort of earthquake very different in the effect, and perhaps in the cause also; I mean those terrible earthquakes which are felt at great distances; and which shake a long tract of ground, without any new volcano, or any eruption appearing. There are instances of earthquakes, which have been felt at the same time in England, France, and Germany. These extend much more in length than in breadth. They shake a chain or zone of land, with more or less violence in different parts; and they are generally attended with a hollow noise, like a heavy carriage going very rapidly. The following observations may explain the causes of this sort of earthquake: all inflammable matter capable of explosion produces (as powder does) a great quantity of air. The air produced by fire is so very much rarified, that it must cause very violent effects, when it has long been shut up and

compressed in the bowels of the earth. Suppose, then, that at a very considerable depth, such as an hundred or two fathoms deep, there should be sulphureous matter which should take fire, by means of the air, it must of course seek a vent; and, if it finds none, it occasions the most violent shocks. It is impossible to express how fatally dreadful earthquakes of this kind are. Of all the desolations, of all the catastrophes upon earth, there are none so formidable, so destructive, and which so much baffle all human foresight and prudence, as these earthquakes. When rivers overflow their banks, swallow up provinces, and sweep away whole villages, there is still some re source; it is possible to escape to the mountains, or upon the upper parts of houses. Dikes may stop the fury of the waves. But that is impossible or useless in earthquakes. There is scarce any other danger from which one may not escape. Lightning never consumed whole towns and provinces. The plague, it is true, may unpeople the greatest cities; but it does not entirely destroy them; whereas the calamity we speak of extends itself with an irresistible power over a whole country, and swallows up whole kingdoms and people, without leaving the smallest trace behind.

Lord God Almighty, who can stand before thee, when thou displayest thy power! Who can resist thee, when thou risest to judge the nations! The earth trembles before thee, and is shaken. The foundations of the mountains are troubled, and quake, when thy anger is kindled. The mountains tremble, and the hillocks vanish. The earth quakes at thy presence, the habitable earth, I say, and all who inhabit it. Thy anger spreads like fire, and the rocks are split asunder before thee. Who would not fear thee, O Ruler of the earth! Yes, Lord, we acknowledge and adore thy sovereign majesty. Thy judgments are incom. prehensible; but, at the same time, thou art good

and merciful in all thy dispensations. O my soul, endeavour to be well convinced of this great truth; whenever the Lord displays his judgments upon earth; when he consumes whole countries in the height of his anger; even then his ways are ways of wisdom and goodness. Can we imagine that it is to destroy us, that he orders those frightful shocks? We, whom a breath of wind could destroy, can we think that the Most High has occasion to make use of the elements, and of all the strength of nature, to reduce us to death? Let us rather acknowledge higher views in these terrible catastrophes. The earthquakes themselves serve, in the Creator's plan, towards the general preservation. And suppose that villages, towns, provinces, were buried in their ruins; suppose that many millions of creatures were destroyed, what are 10,000 provinces, what are 100,000 creatures, in comparison of that innumerable number of beings who fill the whole of the created universe? Let us be convinced that every thing. frightful or terrible in nature, all the apparent evil, all the imperfections of the world, are necessary for the preservation of the whole; and from thence, even for the manifestation of the glory of God.

Great and Almighty Being! I will therefore adore and bless thy name, even when Thou sendest thy plagues, and scatterest terror and desolation on the earth. I will do more. I will rest with sure confidence upon thy fatherly care. Though even the world should be destroyed, though the mountains should fall, and sink into the sea, Thou shouldst still be my support, my strength, and my refuge. Thou wilt ever be my help and my protector in all evils. Let me only possess a good conscience, and I shall find nothing in nature terrible, though every thing should shake around me. Let the earth open under my feet, let the whole world be crushed, I shall say, with security, God is my rock and