Richmond,
                Jan. 29 
              
            Another earthquake was most distinctly felt in this city on
            Thursday morning last, about 9 o'clock.  Some persons
            were rocked in their chairs.  Some staggered as they
            stood.  Hanging keys oscillated.  Doors and
            windows flapped.  Bedsteads and tall articles of
            furniture were moved to and fro.  Those who were at
            breakfast saw a violent ripple on the surface of tea and
            coffee.  A few ran out of their houses in great
            alarm.  The convulsion was more sensibly felt on the
            hill than below it; in high than in low houses.  We
            distinctly felt two of these convulsions, with the lapse of
            15 or 20 minutes between them. 
             
            These are indeed times of wonder.  Comets -- eclipses
            -- tornadoes -- earthquakes.  In the age of
            superstition, these were held to be portentous signs. 
            Powers of the physical world, are ye not satisfied? 
            Are not your omens already out?  Does not the
            conflagration of the theatre verify your superstitious
            auguries?  Are not the ashes of our citizens
            enough?  But this is the language of
            superstition.  To the eye of the bigot, there seems to
            be a mysterious sympathy between the revolutions of the
            moral and physical world.  But truth abjures such
            absurdities.  Was so large a mass as the comet whirled
            from its immense circuit to speak to the inhabitants of this
            smaller globe?  Was the moon quickened in her
            orbit?  No; it was the regular course of her motion,
            for on these data the astronomers had predicted the eclipse
            of the sun; and what is history now, was once a prophecy
            from their lips.  The laws of earthquakes are just as
            regular but more unknown to us; because these work out of
            sight, in the very bowels of the earth. 
             
            Away then with these chimeras!  They are only worthy of
            those ingenious days of witchcraft, when if an old woman
            sank in the water, she was innocent; if she swam, she was
            guilty and was to be burnt for a witch.  Away with all
            the dregs of those "degenerate days."  Whether they are
            the tales of the nursery or of an old woman; whether we are
            told of the fate of nations in an eclipse, or of a friend's
            death in the winding-sheet of a candle; whether it be a
            dream, or the vision of a bigot, just let loose from prison,
            they are equally at war with the lessons of
            philosophy.  Where is the connection between the sign
            and the event?  What is it that links them
            together?  Where is the cause or where the effect. 
             
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