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ACCOUNT OF THE
EARTHQUAKE AT LISBON,
BY A SPECTATOR.
There never was a finer morning seen ⟨than⟩ the first of November, 1755. The sun ⟨shone⟩ in his full lustre, and the whole face of ⟨the⟩ sky was perfectly serene and clear. Not ⟨the⟩ least sign or warning was afforded of ⟨that⟩ approaching event, which rendered the ⟨once⟩ flourishing, opulcnt and populous city ⟨of⟩ Lisbon a scene of the utmost horror ⟨and⟩ desolation.
On the morning of this fatal day, between the hours of nine and ten, I was sitting ⟨in⟩ my apartment, and had just finished