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amiss if I had said miraculous) tree ; at least, it was so, in respect to us, who had been labouring four days through extreme heat, without receiving the least moisture, and were now almost expiring for the want of it. We could not help looking on this as liquor sent from heaven, to comfort and support us under our great extremity. We caught all we could in our hands, and drank very plentifully, and liked it so well, that we could hardly prevail upon ourselves to give over. A thing of this nature could not but excite us to make the strictest observations concerning it ; and accordingly we stayed under the tree three hours, and found we could not fathom its body in five times. We observed the soil to be stony; and upon the nicest inquiry both of the natives of the country and Spanish inhabitants, they said there was no other such tree, seen throughout New Spain, ner perhaps all America over.
Who can but admire the wisdom, goodness, and power of God, in making such a tree; enduing it with such admimble and useful properties, and placing it (at the end of a dark and inhospitable passage) so suitable for the relief of weary, thirsty travellers, of whom it might be said, in the language of the Psalmist, " They wandered in the wilderness in a solitary way; they found no city to dwell in. Ilungry and thirsty their soul fainted in them.” And may it not be said, in a peculiar manner, with reference to these poor men, " He led them forth by a right way," that they might drink of the refreshing waters dropping from this wonderfultree. How different the nature and product of this singular tree from the Bohon-Upas, in the island of Java, the pestiferous effluvia of which strikes death to man and beast ; but from the end of every leaf of this, refreshing water distils! The former may be considered an instrument of wrath, but this, of grace and mercy.
THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD ASSERTED.
An instance of perfidious courtship punished.
That the Almighty Disposer of events, in his government of the moral world, does sometimes step out of his ordinary course in the administration of justice, and in the punishment of the wicked, little doubt can be entertained. History, both ancient and modern, strongly support this position, furnishing us with evidences, at once so pointed and convincing, that none but the most obdurate sceptic, can reject its testimony. We may not, indeed, in every case, be able to trace effects to their different causes, owing to the obscurity in which some of its parts may be involved; but where there is it regular, and unbroken concatenation of events produced, we are no longer in the dark, respecting the predisposing cause. The following narrativc is selected, in proof of the preceding observations, and handed down to you, in order that it may, if agreeable, find inscrtion in your Magazine. Chacewater, near Truro, ļI am, Rev. Sir, yo: rs, &c. October 25, 1812.
Extrac! from the Register of the Parish Church of St. Hilary,
in the county of Cornwall.. Dated, Oet. 22, 1780.
This day was interred the remains of Thomas THOMAS, aged 37 years. This man died of mental anguish, or, what is vulgarly called, a broken heart. He lived in the village of Dranock, till an unhappy event occurred which proved fatal to his peace of mind, for more than eight years, and finally occasioned bis death. He courted Elizabeth Thomas, of the same village, who was his first cousin ; and it was understood that they were under a matrimonial engagement. But in May, 1772, some little disagreement having happened between them, hie, out of resentment, or from some other motive, paid great attention to another young woman, and, on Sunday the 31st of that month in the afternoon, accompanied her to the Meeting at Wall. During their absence, the discarded female, who was very beautiful in her person, but of an extremely irritable temper, took a rope and a Common Prayer Book, in which she had folded down the 109th Psalm, and going into an adjacent field, hanged herself. Thomas, on his return from the preaching, inquired for Betsey, and being told that she had not been seen for two or three hours, exclaimed, “Good God! she has destroyed herself :" which apprehension scems to shew, that she had threatened to commit suicide in consequence of his desertion, or that he dreaded it, from a knowledge of the violence of her disposition. But when he saw that his fears were realized, and had read the Psalm so full of execrations, which she had pointed out to him, he cried out, “I am ruined for ever and ever!" The very sight of this village and neighbourhood, was now become insupportable, and he went to live at Marazion, hoping that a change of scene, and social intercourse, might expel those excruciating reflections which harrowed up his very soul, or at least render them less acute ; but in this he appeared to be mistaken, for he found himself closely pursued. To hear the 109th Psalm, would petrify him with horror, and therefore, he would not attend divine servire on the 290 day of the month.
'Ile dreaded to go near a reading-school, lest he should hear the ill-fated lesson. Whatever misfortunes befel him, and these were not a few, for he was several times hurt, and even maimed, in the mines where he laboured,) he still attributed them all to the malevolent agency of the deceased; and thought he could find allusions to the whole in the calamitous legacy which she had bequeathed him. When he slumbered, for he knew nothing of sound sleep, the injured girl appeared to his imagination with such a countenance as she had after thc rash action, and the Prayer Book in her hand open at the hateful Psalm, and he was frequently heard to cry out, “O my dear Betsey, shut the book, shut the book," &c. With a mind so disturbed and deranged, though he could not reasonably expect much consolation from matrimony, yet imagining that the cares of a family might draw off his thoughts from the miserable subject, by which he was harassed both day and night, he successively paid his addresses to many young women in Marazion, but they indignantly flew from him, and, with a sneer, asked him, “ Whether he was desirous of bringing all the curses of the 109th Psalm on their heads ?" At length, however, he succeeded with one, and he led her to St. Hilary Church to be married, Jan. 21, 1778 ; but on the road thither, they were overtaken by a sudden and violent hurricane, such as those which not unfrequently happen in the vicinity of Mount's Bay: and he, suspecting it was poor Betsey “ rode in the whirlwind and directed the storm,” was convulsed with terror, and was literally “crippled with fear.” Such is the power of conscious guilt
, to the mind wounded by its reflections.
He lived long enough to have a son and a daughter; but the corrosive worm within his breast preyed on his vitals, and at length consumed all the powers of his body, as it had long before destroyed the tranquillity of his mind; and he died on Friday, October 20th, 1780, and was buried at St. Hilary the Sunday following, during evening service. But here observe a strange coincidence of circumstances; for while the body lay in the church, to the astonishment of all the congregation, who knew that the 109th Psalm had operated on him so powerfully, it came to be read in the ordinary course! Against this event, there was more than sixty to one ; and that his funeral should also happen on a Sunday, at 4 o'clock in the afternoon, exactly corresponding to the time in which the young woman destroyed herself, is another remarkable occurrence; but, respecting the malediction of this Psalm, it had no farther effect. as both his children died before him. “Verily there is a God. who judgeth in the earth!"
A HORRID MURDER.
An account of the fatal effects of malevolence and revenge.
[From a periodical publication.]
In the north west parts of Scotland, during the reign of Malcolm, the cotemporary of Macbeth, the usurper, there lived two young noblemen, at the head of two parties, who were such inortal enemies to each other, that hardly a week elapsed without the commission of rapes, of duels, and of private murders. So universally and so deeply rooted was this animosity through the whole multitude, that from the nobleman to the meanest vassal, each thought it a merit and an honor, to injure, even hy means though dishonest, any person who belonged 'n any degree, to the opposite party.
The chiefs of these two parties were named Seaton and Kintair. The former was a youth of the most promising genius, and of sound abilities, joined to great integrity, and an earnest love of virtue. The only speck in his character was the hereditary hate he entertained for the family of Kintair ; and that he governed with so much discretion, that for the implacable enmity and native cruelty of his opponent, the family quarrel might have been adjusted between them, and much misery and bloodshed prevented.
Violently as the savage Kintair detested the very name of Seaton, he yet became deeply enamoured, at tirst, of a lady of that house; the sister indeed, though at first he knew not, of the very lord he hated so implacably.
This lady, whose name was Margaret, was distinguished by an engaging form, and the innate virtues of her soul, which shone conspicuous upon her countenance, and in her whole deportment rendered her air and manner irresistible. She had a iwin sister, who so strongly resembled her in every feature and lineament of the face, that, when asunder, they were hardly to he distinguished; these were the only relations of the young Seaton, and were with him, the sole survivors of the illustrious and ancient family.
Opportunities of meeting, it may be imagined, were not very frequent between these two families. In short, it happened that the rough Kintair had not once beheld this lady, till by accident, one evening, as she returned on horseback from a visit to a friend. The moment he came up with her he halted, ordered her as polite a message as he could dictate to be delivered to her. ihat he might have the permission to speak to her. Margarei alighted and readily granted his request. Kintair. when lie an.