A remarkable Account of the Death of two SISTERS.

THIS

HIS extraordinary Account was taken out of an old parish Register, at Eaft-Dean, in Effex, by the Rev. Mr. Mitchell.

66

Agnes Payne, daughter of Edward Payne, was buried the first day of Feb. 1560. Johan Payne, was buried the first day of Feb. 1560."

Then follows the under-written Remark in the handwriting of the Vicar, and attefted by the Church-Wardens.

"In the death of these two fifters laft mentioned, is one thing worthy recording, and diligently to be noted. The elder fifter called Agnes, being very fick unto death, speechless, and was thought past hope of speaking, after she had lain xxiiii hours without fpeech, at laft, upon a fudden cried out to her sister to make herself ready and come with her. Her fifter Johan, being abroad about other business, was called for ; who, being come to her fick fifter, and demanding how the did, fhe very loudly and earnestly bade her fifter make herself ready, feeing she stayed for her, and could not go without her. Within half an hour after, Johan was taken very fick, which increasing all the night upon her, her other fifter ftill calling her to come away, in the morning they both departed this wretched world together."

Then follows, in the fame hand-writing, this juft obfervation, "O the unfearchable wisdom of God! how deep are his judgments, and his ways past finding out!"

Teftified by

HENRY HOMEWOOD,
JOHN PUPP,

ChurchS Wardens.

Hh 2

An

An Extract from A SURVEY of the WISDOM of GOD in the CREATION.

THE

Of FISHES,

[Continued from page 197.]

"HE land Crabs of the Caribbee Iflands, live in a kind of orderly fociety, within their retreats in the mountains ; and regularly once a year march down to the fea fide in a body of fome millions. They chufe the months of April and May to begin their expedition; and then fally out from the ftumps of the hollow trees, from the clefts of rocks, and from the holes which they dig for themfelves under the furface of the earth. At that time the whole ground is covered with this band of adventurers. The fea is their place of deftination, and to that they direct their march. No geometrician could fend them to their defined station, by a shorter course. They neither turn to the right or left, whatever obftacles intervene. And even if they meet with a house, they will. attempt to fcale the walls, to keep the unbroken tenor of their way. But upon fome occafions they are compelled to con form to the face of the country; and if it be intersected by rivers, they wind along the course of the ftream. They are commonly divided into three battalions; of which, the first confifts of the ftrongest and boldeft males, that like pioneers, march forward to clear the route, and face the greatest dangers. These are often obliged to halt for want of rain, and wait till the weather changes. The main body of the army is compofed of females, which never leave the mountains till the rain is fet in, and then defcend in regular battalia, in columns of fifty paces broad, and three miles deep, and fo clofe, that they almoft cover the ground. Three or four days after this, the rear-guard follows; a ftraggling undifciplined

difciplined tribe, confifting of males and females, but neither forobuft, nor fo numerous as the former. The night is their chief time of proceeding; but if it rains by day, they do not fail to profit by the occafion. And they continue to move forward in their flow, uniform manner. When the fun fhines hot, they make an universal halt, and wait till the cool of the evening. When they are terrified, they march back in a diforderly manner, holding up their nippers with which they fometimes tear off a piece of the flesh of an affailant, and leave the weapon where they inflicted the wound. They often clatter their nippers together, as if it were to threaten those that come to disturb them. But though they thus ftrive to be formidable to man, they are much more so to each other; for if any of them by accident is maimed in fuch a manner, as to be incapable of proceeding, the reft fall upon and devour it on the spot, and then pursue their journey.

When after a fatiguing march, perhaps of three months, they arrive at their deftined port, they prepare to caft their fpawn. The peas are as yet within their bodies, and not as is ufual in animals of this kind, under the tail. And the creature waits for the benefit of the fea water, to help the delivery. For this purpose, the Crab has no fooner reached the fhore, than it eagerly goes to the edge of the water, and lets the waves wash over its body, two or three times. Then they withdraw to feek a lodging upon land: in the meantime, the spawn grows larger, is excluded out of the body, and fticks to the barbs under the tail. In this ftate of pregnancy, and fhaking off their spawn

they once more feek the fhore, into the water, leave it there. At this time whole fhoals of hungry fish are in expectation of this annual fupply. The fea to a great diftance is black with them; and about two thirds of the crabs eggs are immediately devoured. The eggs that escape are hatched under the fand; and foon after millions at a time of thefe little crabs are feen quitting the fhore, and flowly travelling up to the mountains.

The

The old ones however are not so active to return; they are become fo feeble, that they can hardly creep along. Most of them, therefore, are obliged to continue in the flat parts of the country till they recover, making holes in the earth, which they cover at the mouth with leaves and dirt. There they throw off their old fhells. At that time they are quite naked, and almoft without motion for fix days. They have then under their ftomachs four large, white ftones, which gradually decrease in proportion as the shell hardens, and when they come to perfection, are not to be found. It is at that time the animal is feen flowly making its way back, and all this is commonly performed in fix weeks.

[To be continued.]

EXTRACTS from LOCKE on HUMAN UNDERSTANDING; with fhort REMARKS.

of

“Se&t. 61. To

POWE E R.

[Continued from page 199.]

account more particularly for the Mifery that men often bring on themselves, notwithstanding that they do all in earnest purfue Happiness, we must confider, how things come to be represented to our Defires, under deceitful appearances: and that is by the Judgment pronouncing wrongly concerning them. To fee how far this reaches, and what are the caufes of wrong Judgment, we must remember, that things are judged good or bad in a double sense.

Firft, That which is properly good or bad, is nothing but barely Pleafure or Pain.

Secondly.

Secondly, But becaufe not only prefent Pleasure and Pain, but that alfo which is apt by its efficacy or confequences, to bring it upon us at a diftance is a proper object of our Defires, and apt to move a creature that has forefight; therefore things alfo that draw after them Pleafure and Pain, are confidered as Good and Evil.

"Sect. 62. The wrong Judgment that misleads us, and makes the Will often faften on the worfe fide, lies in mifreporting upon the various comparisons of thefe. The wrong Judgment I am here fpeaking of, is not what one man may think of the determination of another; but what every man himfelf must confefs to be wrong. For fince I lay it for a certain ground, that every intelligent being really feeks Happinefs, which confifts in the enjoyment of Pleasure, without any confiderable mixture of Uneafinefs; it is impoffible any one fhould willingly put into his own draught any bitter ingredient, or leave out any thing in his power, that would tend to his fatisfaction, and the compleating of his happiness, but only by wrong 'Judgment. I fhall not here fpeak of that miftake which is the confequence of invincible error, which fcarce deferves the name of wrong Judgment; but of that wrong Judgment which every man himfelf muft confefs to

be fo.

)

"Sect. 63. Therefore, as to prefent Pleasure and Pain, the Mind, as has been faid, never mistakes that which is really Good or Evil; that which is the greater Pleasure, or the greater Pain, is really just as it appears. But though prefent Pleasure and Pain fhew their difference and degrees fo plainly, as not to leave room for mistake; yet when we compare prefent Pleasure or Pain with future, (which is usually the cafe in most important, determinations of the Will) we often make wrong judgments of them, taking our measures of them in different pofitions of diftance. Objects, near our view, are apt to be thought greater, than those of a larger fize, that are more remote: and fo it is with Pleasures and