While I am here writing of the beauties of Italy, its fertile plains, its sunny skies, its lovely lakes, its great works of art and its still greater artists, a newsboy is calling out in the streets: “Appalling catastrophe in Italy.” An earthquake killing not thousands merely, but tens of thousands. What! is that fair land devastated, and death swept by such a calamity? Is it true that loveliness and danger lie so near together? What! is there no spot on earth where we may be absolutely free from danger? Here in lovely Messina and Reggio, I passed them on board the S.S. “Benares” about two years ago. The sun shone brilliantly on the scene, a lovelier it would be difficult to describe. On my left Messina, with its marble buildings glistening in the sun. Temples and towers, churches and barracks, all giving signs of strength and beauty to the fair city; on our right Reggio, which appeared to be a city of great beauty and prosperity. Mount Etna in the distance, slumbering for a time. Stromboli as we passed was alive hurling up stones, fire and smoke. Now the cities named are practically wiped out. _The Daily News_, of December 31st, 1908, says: “Yesterday, the total of the dead was calculated as from fifty thousand to seventy-five thousand. To-day it is two hundred thousand. This morning’s news helps us to form a clearer idea of the awful scene as it occurred. It was early morn just before daylight, and all the beautiful towns along the coast of these historic straits were still asleep. Death came suddenly and unawares. By five successive shocks, the cities were toppled down, and where they had stood great columns of dust were rising. Men, women and children, soldiers in barracks, the sick in hospital and prisoners in gaol were killed together as they slept. They died like ants in a blown up nest.” A survivor from Messina says: “The town is nothing but a dust heap, even the railway station is swallowed up, the railwaymen are nearly all killed.” Another says: “It is too horrible to describe.” The Pope has shown the greatest anxiety; has even asked permission at the Quirinal to transmit massages to the suffering and the bereaved. He also summoned to the Vatican the Director of the Bank of Rome and had with him some private conversation, and arranged for the sum of £40,000 to be sent at once. Our own King Edward sent to the King of Italy messages of condolence and sympathy. The navies and soldiers of England, France, Germany and others are giving assistance in extricating sufferers from the debris, and feeding the hungry, and erecting temporary shelters and generally doing all that can be done to mitigate the distress and grief and pain. Money is being sent liberally by all the Christian nations at least. So all feel as nations and as individuals that “One touch of sorrow makes the world akin.” It is at such a time that the brotherhood of nations asserts itself. All racial barriers are swept away in the face of such a terrible catastrophe. The latest news is that no less than 220,000 have perished, as many inland towns have suffered most severely. The cathedral and churches, with all their valuable works of art, have been totally destroyed. Scenes simply indescribable are enacted and too sad to relate. So we see the uncertainty of things that are on earth.