‘Earthquakes alone,’ says Mr. Darwin, ‘are sufficient to destroy the prosperity of any country. If beneath England the now inert subterranean forces should exert those powers which most assuredly in former geological ages they have exerted, how completely would the entire condition of the land be changed! What would become of the lofty houses, thickly packed cities, great manufactories, the beautiful public and private edifices? If the new period of disturbance were first to commence by some great earthquake in the dead of the night, how terrific would be the carnage! England would at once be bankrupt; all papers, records, and accounts would from that moment be lost. Government, being unable to collect the taxes, and failing to maintain its authority, the hand of violence and rapine would remain uncontrolled. In every large town famine would go forth, pestilence and death following in its train.’ Fortunately the experience of many ages shows that the regions subject to these terrible catastrophes are confined to a comparatively small part of the surface of the globe. Thus Southern Italy and Sicily; the tract embracing the Canaries, the Azores, Portugal, and Morocco; Asia Minor, Syria, and the Caucasus; the Arabian shore of the Red Sea; the East Indian Archipelago; the West Indies, Nicaragua, Quito, Peru, and Chili, are particularly liable to destructive shocks. But beyond these limits slighter earthquakes are of far more common occurrence than is generally supposed, and probably they leave no part of the world entirely undisturbed. From the year 1821 to 1830 no less than 115 earthquakes have been felt to the north of the Alps, and since the year 1089, 225 are cited in the annals of England. Some of these earthquakes seem to have but just stopped at the point when a slight increase of their force would have covered the land with ruins. In 1574, on the 26th of February, between five and six in the evening, an earthquake was felt at York, Worcester, Hereford, Gloucester, and Bristol. Norton Chapel was filled with worshippers; they were nearly all overthrown, and fled in terror, thinking that the dead were unearthed or that the chapel was falling. Six years later, on the 6th of April, at 6 P.M., all England was thrown into consternation. The great bell at Westminster began to toll; the students at the Temple started up from table and rushed into the street, knives in hand; a part of the Temple Church fell, and stones dropped from St. Paul’s. Two stones fell in Christ’s Church, and crushed two persons. In rushing out of the church many were lamed, and there was a shower of chimneys in the streets. At Sandwich, the occurrence was marked by the violence of the sea, which made ships run foul of each other; and at Dover a part of the fortifications fell with the rock which supported it.