been chosen for the origin and principal scene of
the conflagration, was the best adapted for that purpose by natural and
physical causes; by its deep caverns, beds of sulphur, and numero is
volcanoes, of which those of AEtna, of Vesuvius, and of Lipari, exhibit
a very imperfect representation. The calmest and most intrepid sceptic
could not refuse to acknowledge that the destruction of the present
system of the world by fire, was in itself extremely probable. The
Christian, who founded his belief much less on the fallacious arguments
of reason than on the authority of tradition and the interpretation
of Scripture, expected it with terror and confidence as a certain and
approaching event; and as his mind was perpetually filled with the
solemn idea, he considered every disaster that happened to the empire as
an infallible symptom of an expiring world.

The condemnation of the wisest and most virtuous of the Pagans, on
account of their ignorance or disbelief of the divine truth, seems to
offend the reason and the humanity of the present age. But the primitive
church, whose faith was of a much firmer consistence, delivered over,
without hesitation, to eternal torture, the far greater part of the
human species. A charitable hope might perhaps be indulged in favor of
Socrates, or some other sages of antiquity, who had consulted the light
of reason before that of the gospel had arisen. But it was unanimously
affirmed, that those who, since the birth or the death of Christ, had
obstinately persisted in the worship of the daemons, neither deserved
nor could expect a pardon from the irritated justice of the Deity. These
rigid sentiments, which had been unknown to the ancient world, appear to
have infused a spirit of bitterness into a system of love and harmony.
The ties of blood and friendship were frequently torn asunder by the
difference of religious faith; and the Christians, who, in this world,
found themselves oppressed by the power of the Pagans, were sometimes
seduced by resentment and spiritual pride to delight in the prospect of
their future triumph. "You are fond of spectacles," exclaims the stern
Tertullian; "expect the greatest of all spectacles, the last and eternal
judgment of the universe. How shall I admire, how laugh, how rejoice,
how exult, when I behold so many proud monarchs, so many fancied gods,
groaning in the lowest abyss of darkness; so many magistrates, who
persecuted the name of the Lord, liquefying in