of possibility, by which it can be di- | may be admitted to coexist, without minished. The knowledge of God creating any confusion in our ideas. must always include certainty in its own nature, whether the action or event be considered as contingent or necessary. But the questions which have been agitated, do not terminate with the simple inquiry, whether the certainty of the divine knowledge, necessarily implies certainty in the action or event, which is known to infinite discernment. We are told, that "Arminianism requires some effort, either to get rid of foreknowledge, or to show that it does not involve all the consequences of Calvinistic decrees." (Evan. Mag. p. 49.) Such is the task assigned to all, who hesitate to adopt the conclusions which are presumed to flow from an admission of the_foreknowledge of God. Among the methods which have been adopted, to identify, in their effects and consequences, the decrees and foreknowledge of God, there is scarcely one which assumes a more plausible or imposing aspect, than the following. It has frequently been asserted, that "if the Almighty God foresees an event or action, then that event or action must happen in the manner, time, and place, in which it is foreseen; otherwise his foreknowledge, by being contradicted by fact, will be found to be erroneous." To this assertion we would reply, that with regard to contingent actions or events, no necessity appears that this must be the case. If God had foreseen that any action or event must thus happen, then the conclusion would have been inevitable; but this is not included in the proposition. The divine discernment perceives how an event or action will happen; but how it can be inferred from hence, that therefore it must so happen, is founded upon a connection between will and must, which we have yet to learn. The same Almighty Being, who perceives how an event or action will happen, foresees it, with respect to all contingencies, under the possibility that it may not so happen; and his discernment of this possibility, that it may not thus happen, is not less certain, than his discernment that it will happen as he foresees it. The discernment how it will happen, and how it may happen, are equally clear in the eye of infinite knowledge; and both Although it were admitted, that God foresees how every event or action will happen, it does not thence follow, that he foresees how it must happen; because the same infinite discernment that perceives how it will happen, still perceives with equal clearness, that it may happen otherwise. The possibility of its happening otherwise, is not therefore destroyed, even by the supposition that he discerns it will not otherwise happen. And consequently, although the divine knowledge always includes certainty in its own nature, this does not necessarily imply certainty in the event. Certainty of knowledge, is therefore perfectly consistent with uncertainty in the ultimate issue of all contingent actions. There is no mode of reasoning with which we are acquainted, that will enable us to perceive, how must happen, can be inferred from will happen. Will happen, always leaves the possibility of an action or event happening otherwise, within the reach of possibility; and while this latter possibility remains, we are at a loss to conceive how must happen can ever make its appearance with any degree of consistency. God sees all actions and events as they really are. If, therefore, as we have already attempted to prove, he has made some actions and events contingent, he must view them as such; and consequently, while these actions and events retain their contingent nature, no knowledge how they will terminate, can render it absolutely impossible for them to terminate otherwise. To derive must happen, from will happen, is to attempt an inference which the premises will not support. It is to introduce a species of certainty, which the premises do not include, and to preclude the simple possibility, that an event or action may happen agreeably to the essence of its own nature. Hence, as the prescience of God does not necessarily presuppose the certainty of all these actions and events which are discerned, this prescience is perfectly consistent with the volitions of moral agents, even upon the supposition that human actions are contingent. The critic in the Evangelical Magazine, p. 49, assuming this fact, which we have dared to question, has made the following observation. "If God Verax is but little more than a single step by which we ascend an eminence, from whence we are led to take a survey of one of the most important and interesting objects, that can offer itself to the mind of man." It was not our intention however, to lose sight alto foresees every thought, temper, word, or action of men, from all eternity, then all things are certain, and no decree can make them more so." On what principle this conclusion is founded, we confess ourselves at a loss to determine, unless it be that which we have presumed to contro-gether of the pamphlet which first exvert, and which, if our arguments are conclusive, we have proved to be fallacious. Why a conclusion of so much moment as that which we have just quoted, namely," then all things are certain, and no decree can make them more so," should be permitted to rest on nothing but bare assertion, we can scarcely conceive. It seems to add confirmation to the truth of our previous observations, respecting the certainty of knowledge, and the certainty and uncertainty of events. It is by blending together the certainty of every event and action, with the certainty of the divine foreknowledge of them, that so many difficulties appear to have been generated, respecting this interesting and momentous question. But these distinct certainties, have no necessary connection with each other. Let us cited our attention. Many of the subjects to which we have adverted, are introduced and discussed by the author, in whose pages they appear in varied lights. But as this article is already extended to a length, which nothing but the momentous nature of the realities brought under examination, can justify, we shall forbear to select from his pamphlet any passages for animadversion; and for such quotations the reason will be less imperious, since the price, being no more than two shillings and sixpence, places it within the reach of most persons who feel an interest in the controversy. Of its aggregate importance, it will be sufficient to observe; that in the Evangelical Magazine, it has undergone an examination in the pages of two successive numbers; which we scarcely suppose would have been the case, if the writer of the article had not thought it someway deserving his notice. Being written in favour of Dr. Clarke's sentiments, and avowedly in opposition to the animadversions which appeared on those sentiments in the Evangelical Magazine, it is not to be expected, that Verax should have found in its pages the most hospitable treatment. To the argumentative parts of his pamphlet, the writer seems to have paid a scrupulous attention; but it is highly probable, that many besides Verax, will think his reasonings are not wholly conclusive. now suppose, that some actions and events are certain, and that others are equally uncertain. There can be nothing contradictory in admitting that God could give existence to beings, capable of actions which should issue in such events; nor in allowing that his infinite discernment should foresee the result of both. Under these circumstances, nothing can be more evident, than that God must see all as they actually are; namely, some as certain, and others as uncertain. But his knowledge neither gives certainty to the former, nor uncertainty to the latter. Simple discernment must leave things exactly as they would have been, independently of it. Of the spirit in which Verax apcannot alter the nature of an event, pears to have written, the critic makes much less can it furnish evidence, much complaint; and we have no that those events and actions are cer- doubt that all his judicious friends tain, which God had made contingent. would rejoice to find that the charge And consequently, even though we was unfounded. There are very few were to allow that "God foresees occasions in which the caustics of every thought, temper, word, or action acrimony will not ultimately injure of men, from all eternity," it will by the cause they were intended to serve. no means follow, that" then all things The world is too much enlightened to are certain;" much less can it be in-transfer any additional weight to arferred, "that no decree can make them more so." It gument, either from the severity of that language in which it is delivered, We have said in the commence- or from any corrosive expletives with ment of this article, that "the letter of which it may be accompanied, Who Verax is, the writer of this article knows nothing: but should our pages meet his eye, these hints may be serviceable to him on some future occasion. (To be concluded in our next.) LETTER OF THE LATE REV. JOHN NEW and his grace. I trust he has given you to know his name; but I thought I perceived, when I was with you, the disadvantages of your situation and connections, in a place which abounds with temptations, and is nearly destitute of the means that are greatly useful in building up a believer in his most holy faith. We had not then an TON, OF OLNEY, TO HIS FRIEND IN opportunity for free conversation, and I LIVERPOOL. [Never before published.] As this letter was addressed to a near relative of the Lady by whom we have been favoured with a copy, she wishes, from motives of delicacy, that the name may be suppressed. soon. "DEAR SIR, "How is it that our intercourse has been broken off? When I left Liverpool, you gave me hopes that I should either see or hear from you I continued waiting till I heard you were gone to Montserrat, and I believe it was long after your return before I knew of your arrival. To be plain; from your long-continued silence, I was afraid you had dropped the correspondence from choice. I acknowledge the sense of our past friendship should have constrained me at all events to write; but, then, a continued round of business, which makes it difficult to answer the letters I receive, has prevented me from time to time. I had a letter a few days since from Mr. Walley, (I believe the only one I have had from Liverpool for a year and a half past,) in which he mentions you, and informs me that you are very ill. This rouses me to break through forms, and to write immediately. Indeed, my dear friend, I have not forgotten you, nor is my regard abated. I remember with pleasure the agreeable conversations we have had together, and have often rejoiced in the hopes that they were not unprofitable. Mr. Walley says, he understands that you are comfortable with respect to the views you have of a better world. This is good news indeed. May I soon see it confirmed under your own hand, if you are able to write. Mrs. Newton and myself are both anxious to hear of you; and I hope we shall both pray, that the Lord Jesus may be pleased to confirm you in the faith, which is his own gift, and to open to you increasing and transforming discoveries of his glory deferred it in hopes of seeing you soon at Olney. But I trust the Lord has been your teacher, and sanctified the scenes you have passed through since we parted, and especially your present indisposition; so that now you are waiting with resignation and peace, whatever it shall be his good pleasure to appoint. If this is the case, you are happy indeed; and though we should meet no more in the present world, we shall have a glorious meeting, when we join the general assembly of the redeemed before the throne. They are now singing to the praise of the Lamb that was slain, who loved them, and washed them from their sins in his own blood. They are now admiring his sovereign grace, that he was pleased to pluck them as brands out of the fire, and to make known to them his great salvation, at a time when they were altogether careless about it, and insensible of their danger. And surely you and I, if permitted to join them, shall have abundant reason to sing and to admire with them. You know what a wretch I was; how I trampled upon God's commands, abused his patience, and despised his gospel; yet I obtained mercy. You, likewise, my friend, were once a stranger to the love of Jesus, and the power of his blood. I hope you can now say, his name is precious, and that, in love to your soul, he has cast all your sins behind his back; and that he has given you that peace in the paths of holiness and faith, which you were utterly unacquainted with when you walked in the way of your own heart. I pray for the restoration of your health, and that you may yet live to visit us here again, if it is the Lord's will. I love you too well, to think of parting with you without concern. But may we be always resigned to his appointments. If he is pleased to take you to himself, and to exchange your present state of conflict, for a mansion in his kingdom, the loss to For my own affairs, I am in a fair your friends will be your unspeakable way of becoming as eminent as Thogain. I pray, threefore, that his name mas a Kempis, or John Bunyan; and may be glorified in you, whether by you may expect, henceforth, to see my life or by death; that you may be sup- | birth-day inserted among the wonderported, while here, by the sweet con- ful events in the Poor Robin's and solations of his Spirit; be enabled to Aberdeen Almanacks, along with the commit all your concerns into his faith- Black Monday, and the Battle of Bothful hands; and that, when the hour of well Bridge. My Lord Glencairn, and dismission shall arrive, you may de- the Dean of Faculty, Mr. H. Erskine, part, like Simeon, rejoicing in his sal- have taken me under their wing; and, vation; and that the present dispensa- | in all probability, I shall soon be the tion, whatever may be the event, may tenth worthy, and the eighth wise be sanctified to all your family. man of the world. Through my Lord's influence, it is inserted in the records of the Caledonian Hunt, that they universally, one and all, subscribe for the second edition. My subscription-bills come out to-morrow, and you shall have some of them next post. I have met in Mr. Dalrymple, of Orangefield, what Solomon emphatically calls, a friend that sticketh closer than a brother." The warmth with which he interests himself in my affairs, is of the same enthusiastic kind, which you, Mr. Aiken, and the few patrons that took notice of my earlier poetic days, showed for the poor unlucky devil of a poet. Mrs. Newton presents her affectionate respects to you and Mrs. We sympathize with her, and with all your friends, and beg to be remembered suitably to them. I shall hope to hear from, or of, you soon. May the Lord Jesus, the good Shepherd, be with you. We are still favoured with health and peace; and find Olney in all respects a comfortable settlement. -Believe me to be, dear Sir, your affectionate and obliged friend and servant, JOHN NEWTON. Olney, the 31st August, 1769. I have paid every attention to your commands, but can only say that, which perhaps you will have heard before this reach you, that Muirkirk lands were bought by a John Gordon, W. S. but for whom I know not; Mauchlands, Haugh Miln, &c. by a Frederick Fotheringham, supposed to be for Ballochmyle Laird; and Adamhill and Shawood were bought for Oswald's folks. This is so imperfect an account, and will be so late ere it reach you, that were it not to discharge my conscience, I would not trouble you with this; but after all my diligence, I could make it no sooner nor better. 66 WITH the exception of such as fill exalted stations on the great theatre of the world, there are few names before the public, which have excited a more general interest, than that of this extraordinary, but we fear, unfortunate traveller. During a long season, although no accounts had been transmitted from him, some faint hopes were cherished of his safety, even while serious doubts were occasionally entertained of his being no more. formation at length communicated tidings of his death; accompanied with circumstances, which gave to the melancholy event the fullest confirmation. Subsequent accounts have tended to corroborate the report, which we think, every one would rejoice in finding a satisfactory reason to disbelieve. How far the following particulars may In be deserving of credit, we take not upon us to state. They seem better calculated to awaken our hopes, than to suppress our fears; and rather give us an opportunity of believing it possible that he may be still alive, than furnishing any convincing evidence in favour of the fact. A gentleman of Liverpool, who has a brother residing at Juddah, on the Red Sea, has lately received from him a letter, dated December 13th, 1818, in which, on the authority of another, it is asserted that Mungo Park is still alive. "On my landing at Juddah," he observes, a place where I did not expect to hear an English word, I was accosted by a man in the complete costume of the country, with, Are you an Englishman, Sir?' My answer being of course in the affirmative, appeared to give him pleasure beyond expression. Thanks and praises to God,' he exclaimed, 'I once more hear an English tongue, which I have not done for fourteen years before."" bouring under a severe indisposition. He had, however, formed a resolution to make his way to Tombuctoo. If he should determine to persevere, and should finally succeed in his attempt, we may hereafter expect some further accounts, which will either confirm his present statement, respecting Mungo Park, or again throw us back on that destiny which, we have too much reason to fear, has overtaken this enterprising traveller. A NOBLE INSTANCE OF DIGNIFIED Fermanagh Assizes, Ireland. Orange lodge, stepped upon the table, to offer testimony of what he was pleased to call the prisoner's confession, saying, that he had told him that he (the prisoner)" had murdered the deceased." It appears, that the name of this stranger is Nathaniel Pearce, a native of this country, who was left behind by Lord Valentia, and who has been mentioned by Mr. Salt, in the account of his travels in Abyssinia. Pearce, it seems, has spent the fourteen years of his singular exile in Abyssinia, dur-yeomanry officer, and master of an ing which period he has been principally in the service of the various chiefs of the country. His own account is stated to be both amusing and deeply interesting. According to his declaration, Mungo Park is still in existence; and actually resides in the The learned Judge (Mr. Serjeant city of Tombuctoo, where he is de- Joy) here interposed. He first comtained by the chief. He is not, how-manded the witness to be silent. ever, kept in custody from any principle of hostility, but from their knowledge of his value for his skill in surgery and astronomy. By the people, Pearce says, he is almost idolized. They view him as an angel sent down from heaven to administer to their wants. He is anxious to make his escape, but finds it impossible. "What" say the people," do you think we are so foolish, as to part with so invaluable a treasure? If you go away, where are we to find another, possessing so much knowledge, or who will do us so much good?" He then rose from his seat on the bench, and warmly addressed Mr. Aiken to the following effect: - On "Sir,-In the evidence you have given on this trial, you have solemnly sworn that you are a perfectly disinterested witness; whereas to my knowledge, both your words and actions have evinced the contrary. my coming into Court this morning, you, well knowing that the prisoner was to take his trial at its sitting, for a capital offence, and that the penalty of his conviction would be the forfeiture of his life: you Sir, fully apprised Pearce, at the time when he com- of this, in a manner perfectly intellimunicated this information, was un-gible to me, and for an object which well, and had for some time been la- I could not misunderstand, endea |
