THE sixth seal is the one which embraces in the number of its momentous events, the coming of the Son of man, and the end of this present world. Its opening was to be marked by the occurrence of a mighty earthquake. Rev. vi, 12. This event occurred on the first of November, 1755, and is known as the great earthquake of Lisbon. It is a significant fact that all the great events given as signs and precursors of the end of all things, have been instinctively associated, in the minds of the people at the time of their occurrence, with the great day of which they were the forerunners. It was so with the falling of the stars in 1833; it was so with the dark day and night of 1780; it was also so with the great earthquake of 1755. The following particulars concerning an event which holds so prominent a place in both prophecy and history will be of interest to all. U. S.
“On the 1st of November, 1755, a few minutes before 10 A. M., the inhabitants of Lisbon were alarmed by several violent vibrations of the ground, which then rose and fell several times with such force that hundreds of houses came toppling into the streets, crushing thousands of people. At the same time the air grew pitchy dark from the clouds of dust that rose from the crumbling edifices. Many persons ran down to the river-side, in the hope of escaping to the shipping; but the water suddenly rose some yards perpendicularly, and swept away everything before it. The quay, with nearly two hundred beings standing on it, all at once disappeared. Large ships, which were lying high and dry, floated off, and were dashed against each other, or carried down the river. In every direction the surface of the water was overspread with boats, timber, casks, household furniture, and corpses. The scene on land was yet more horrifying. Churches, government buildings, and private houses, were all involved in the same ruin. Many thousands of trembling fugitives had collected in the great square, when it was discovered that flames were spreading in every quarter. Taking advantage of the universal panic and confusion, a band of miscreants had fired the city. Nothing could be done to stay the progress of the flames, and for eight days they raged unchecked. Whatever the earthquake had spared fell a prey to this new calamity. 'It is not to be expressed by human tongue,' writes an eye-witness, 'how dreadful and how awful it was to enter the city after the fire was abated; and looking upward one was struck with horror at beholding dead bodies, by six or seven in a heap, crushed to death, half buried and half burnt; and if one went through the broad places or squares, nothing to be met with but people bewailing their misfortunes, wringing their hands, and crying, 'The world is at an end.' If you go out of the city, you behold nothing but barracks, or tents made with canvass, or ship's sails, where the poor inhabitants lie.'
“Another eye-witness is still more graphic. 'The terror of the people was beyond description: nobody wept—it was beyond tears—they ran hither and thither, delirious with horror and astonishment, beating their faces and breasts, crying misericordia, the world's at an end; mothers forgot their children, and ran about loaded with crucified images. Unfortunately, many ran to the churches for protection; but in vain was the sacrament exposed; in vain did the poor creatures embrace the altars; images, priests, and people, were buried in one common ruin. . . . The prospect of the city was deplorable. As you passed along the streets, you saw shops of goods with the shopkeepers buried with them, some alive crying out from under the ruins, others half buried, others with broken limbs, in vain begging for help; they were passed by crowds without the least notice or sense of humanity. The people lay that night in the field, which equalled, if possible, the horrors of the day; the city all in flames; and if you happened to forget yourself with sleep, you were awakened by the tremblings of the earth and the howlings of the people. Yet the moon shone, and the stars, with unusual brightness. Long-wished-for day at last appeared, and the sun rose with great splendor on the desolated city in the morning. Some of the boldest, whose houses were not burnt, ventured home for clothes, the want of which they had severely felt in the night, and a blanket was now become of more value than a suit of silk.'
The following testimony shows the extent of this terrible visitation to have been wider than that of any similar one on record:
“The earthquake happened on November 1, 1755, and its sphere of action embraced many cities and States. St. Ubes was totally destroyed. At Cadiz the sea broke down the outer wall, flooded the town, and drowned some hundreds of persons. The Cathedral of Seville was seriously damaged, several houses overthrown, and many persons injured. The shock was felt, indeed, throughout the whole of Spain, except in Catalonia, and also in Germany. In many parts of Great Britain the water in lakes and ponds was violently upheaved, and ebbed and flowed over the banks. A solemn fast was consequently commanded to be observed on the 6th of February next ensuing, in the hope to avert, by prayer and penitence, a similar calamity from this country. A ship at sea, 100 leagues to the westward of Lisbon, had her cabin windows shattered to fragments, and many vessels in deep water quivered as if they had struck against a rock. In Morocco the effects of the shock were most disastrous. In Mequinez two-thirds of the houses were destroyed, and above three hundred in Fez. A caravan of two hundred persons going along the coast from Sallee to Morocco were overwhelmed by the sea, and a still more numerous caravan was swept away by the sudden rise of the inland rivers. In France and Holland earthquakes were repeatedly felt during the entire month of November, and occasionally even in December." Wonders of the World, p. 299.