EARTHQUAKES IN LONDON.

The month of January and the beginning of February were distinguished, the first day by a very remarkable Aurora Borealis appearing at night to the north-east, of a deep and dusky red colour, like the reflection of some great fire, for which it was by many people mistaken; and the coruscations, unlike those that are generally observed, did not meet in the zenith, but in a point some degrees to the southward. February was ushered in by terrible peals of thunder, flashes of lightning, and such a tempest of wind, hail, and rain, as overwhelmed with fear and consternation the inhabitants of Bristol, where it chiefly raged. On the eighth day of the same month, between twelve and one in the afternoon, the people of London were still more dreadfully alarmed by the shock of an earthquake, which shook all the houses with such violence, that the furniture rocked on the floors, the pewter and porcelain rattled on the shelves, the chamber-bells rang, and the whole of this commotion was attended by a clap of noise resembling that produced by the fall of some heavy piece of furniture. The shock extended through the cities of London and Westminster, and was felt on both sides of the river Thames, from Greenwich to the westward of London; but not perceptible at a considerable distance. On the very same day of the next month, between five and six o’clock in the morning, the inhabitants of the metropolis were again affrighted by a second shock, more violent than the first, and abundantly more alarming, as it waked the greater part of the people from their repose. It was preceded by a succession of thick low flashes of lightning, and a rumbling noise, like that of a heavy carriage rolling over a hollow pavement. The shock itself consisted of repeated vibrations, which lasted some seconds, and violently shook every house from top to bottom. Again the chairs rocked, the shelves clattered, the small bells rang, and in some places public clocks were heard to strike. Many persons, roused by this terrible visitation, started naked from their beds, and ran to their doors and windows in distraction; yet no life was lost, and no house overthrown by this concussion, though it was so dreadful as to threaten an immediate dissolution of the globe. The circumstance, however, did not fail to make a deep impression upon ignorant, weak, and superstitious minds, which were the more affected by the consideration that the two shocks were periodical; that the second, which happened exactly one month after the first, had been the more violent; and that the next, increasing in proportion, might be attended with the most dismal consequences. This general notion was confirmed, and indeed propagated, among all ranks of people, by the admonitions of a fanatic soldier, who publicly preached up repentance, and boldly prophesied that the next shock would happen on the same day of April, and totally destroy the cities of London and Westminster. Considering the infectious nature of fear and superstition, and the emphatic manner in which the imagination had been prepared and prepossessed, it was no wonder that the prediction of this illiterate enthusiast should have contributed, in a great measure, to augment the general terror. The churches were crowded with penitent sinners; the sons of riot and profligacy were overawed into sobriety and decorum. The streets no longer resounded with execrations, or the noise of brutal licentiousness; and the iand of charity was liberally opened. Those whom fortune had enabled to retire from the devoted city, fled to the country with hurry and precipitation, insomuch that the highways were encumbered with horses and carriages. Many who had in the beginning combated these groundless fears with the weapons of reason and ridicule, began insensibly to imbibe the contagion, and felt their hearts fail in proportion as the hour of probation approached; even science and philosophy were not proof against the unaccountable effects of this communication. In after ages it will hardly be believed, that on the evening of the eighth day of April, the open fields that skirt the metropolis were filled with an incredible number of people assembled in chairs, in chaises, and coaches, as well as on foot, who waited in the most fearful suspense until morning, and the return of day disproved the truth of the dreaded prophecy. Then their fears vanished; they returned to their respective habitations in a transport of joy; and were soon reconciled to their abandoned vices, which they seemed to resume with redoubled affection, and once more bade defiance to the vengeance of heaven.