probation-"Son, thou art ever with me," hast never departed from the way of my commandments, and "all that I have is thine." But, "it was meet that we should make merry and be glad, for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again, and was lost, and is found." There is much and just cause for gladness; this thy brother, who was dead in sin, is become alive unto righteousness. He who was lost in the profligacy of vicious transgression, in the regenerated state which humble and sincere repentance has brought about, is found again, and joyfully received into favour. MARY HUGHES. P.S. J should scarcely have courage to offer this paper for insertion, differing widely as it does from what I esteem high authority, were I not well assured, that should it call forth any reply, it will be dictated in the true spirit of Christian meekness; and were I not well convinced that the author of the tract before adverted to, is as truly desirous as I can be, that the parables of our heavenly Teacher should be examined in every possible light, that we may be enabled with more certainty to ascertain their true meaning. Extract from a Letter, written by an Inhabitant of the Isle of Cyprus, who had escaped the Massacre of the Christians. (Translated from the French, for the Monthly Repository.) UR beloved country is stained with the innocent blood of our Christian brethren, shed by the hands of barbarians! It is the duty of such of us as have been suffered, through the interposition of Divine Providence, to elude the tyrant's grasp, to consecrate the memory of those illustrious warriors, and to expose to the world the inhumanity which has doomed them to destruction. Every country of Europe, every nation of the earth which still cherishes heartfelt religion, which has not utterly renounced the venerable attribute of reason, must shudder whilst listening to a recital of the horrible calamities that have befallen the inhabitants of our island. Not the tender and pitiful alone, but the hardest heart must surely melt at scenes of such overwhelming misery. You are well acquainted with the see. distinguished excellencies of the holy father Cyprian, the archbishop of our island, the government of which devolved upon him in virtue of a privilege attached to our archiepiscopal His disinterested generosity, his genius, his ardent pursuit of every species of virtue, the austerity with which he exacted of himself the fulfilment of his duties, and the condescending sweetness of his manners, had rendered this extraordinary man an object not only of respect and veneration to the Christians, but of esteem and affection to the Mussulmans themselves; for to them he had rendered important services, having even saved the lives of many who had incurred the resentment of their rulers. He enjoyed, as far as it was possible in our unhappy country, the reward of his wise conduct; and the terrible events which had successively taken place in the capital of the empire, had failed to disturb the tranquillity of our island, in consequence either of the pacific temper of the people, or of the vigilant superintendence of the archbishop. Suddenly, however, the Muhassil (Turkish governor) presented himself to the holy father, and on the authority of the Sultan's firman, required that he should cause all the Christians to deliver up their arms. requisite orders for their delivery; and, The archbishop immediately gave the to prevent alarm and confusion, he sent his own officers to accompany the Turkish officers who were appointed to search the houses of the inhabitants. A change of conduct was visible as soon as the Muhassil was possessed of the Christians' arms: assuming an air of authority, he deprived the Archbishop of his power. The Turks, excited by him, began to invent the most atrocious calumnies against the Christians; accusing them, for instance, of having mixed the flesh of swine with other provisions in dinners of which they had invited them to partake five years before; of having had intercourse with the wives of the Turks; and of other crimes of a similar nature. On the strength of these chimerical charges, a considerable number of Christians, many of them ecclesiastics, were imprisoned. The Archbishop expostulated with the Muhassil, and demanded the enlargement of the prisoners. The Muhassil replied, that the greater part of them had been executed, and that those who remained had with difficulty obtained the promise of their lives on condition of paying a large sum of money. Although the raising of this sum compelled the relations of the imprisoned to make an extraordinary effort, they presented it immediately; but they found that the promise of the perfidious governor had been given merely to extort their money, for as soon as he had received it, he gave orders for the massacre of his unhappy prisoners. The Archbishop beheld with indignation this union of fraud and cruelty, but far from obtaining satisfaction, he was fated to see his Archdeacon loaded with irons, and a horrid persecution commenced against his nephew, Cyprian Theseus. The latter, however, by making immense sacrifices, obtained means to flee from his persecutors, and thus escaped the destruction with which he was menaced. The fury of the execrable tyrant then burst on the head of Leondius, the secretary of the late Grand Vicar, his father, who was put to the torture nine days successively, to compel him to discover the retreat of Cyprian Theseus; and after nine days of martyrdom the venerable ecclesiastic died in the most dreadful torment. The Archbishop, agonized at the miseries to which his beloved children were continually exposed, remonstrated against the conduct of the Muhassil, who considered himself sufficiently excused by protesting that, under the present circumstances, it had been impossible to avoid falling into some errors respecting the unfortunate sufferers; and that Cyprian Theseus had been pursued only for the purpose of making him relinquish some arms of great value, which he was said to have retained when the others were delivered up. He now set at liberty the Archdeacon, after having extorted from him a present of 15,000 piastres. Moreover, he gave the Archbishop a solemn promise that the Christians of the island should thenceforth enjoy perfect tranquillity, adding, that he would personally guarantee the performance of all that had been promised. He, however, required of the Archbishop an assurance to the government, that the Christians should make no insurrectionary movements against the Turks; and that they were ready to pledge themselves to the most scrupulous obedience to them. The Archbishop answered, that he should ever continue to inculcate on his children the sentiments which he had invariably taught them. This declaration did not satisfy the Governor; he gave the Archbishop to understand that he must offer some guarantee for his own political conduct: with strong feeling the venerable man replied, that the esteem in which he had always been held by the people, and even by the Porte, who had entrusted to him the superintendence of the whole island, as well as the incontestable proofs which he had repeatedly given of attachment to the Sultan, sufficiently attested his loyalty and firmness; nevertheless, to prevent any pretext for suspicion, he disdained not to offer in favour of his own conduct the testimony of all the Mussulman authorities of the island; these, from the Mufti down to the lowest class of public functionaries, eagerly came forward to add weight to the protestations of the Archbishop. The Muhassil professed to be satisfied, and declared that, on his part, he would never violate his promises; but to reward him for undertaking to render an account to the government of Constantinople of the good conduct of the Christians of Cyprus, he exacted the moderate sum of 100,000 piastres; and this demand could not be refused at so critical a moment. He then augmented with his own soldiers the number of the Archbishop's guards, under the pretence of more firmly establishing the public tranquillity: thus this monster was preparing to execute his villanous design. A few days after, he requested the Archbishop to convoke all the clergy, who were the principal persons of the country, saying, that he had orders from the Sultan to communicate to them, and affairs of the highest political importance to consult them upon. All who were convened well knew the perfidy of the barbarian, and suspected the horrid act of treachery which he meditated; but how was it possible for them to escape, since he had placed in every port considerable bodies of troops, brought into Syria from St. Jean d'Acre? Still they might hope, by means of further sacrifices, to allay the storm which was gathering over them; especially as they were convinced that the Turks must be satis fied with the blameless conduct of the After the murder of his innocent superiors of the place: on the follow- children, the holy father himself was ing day, therefore, all the clergy as- led away to be sacrificed, whilst resembled, according to the orders of signing his soul into the hands of his the Muhassil, who, having placed a Creator. This horrid crime caused large number of foot-guards on all the most profound grief in every Christhe stairs of the palace in which they tian breast. In the mean time, the had met, gave the command for a Turks abandoned themselves to all general massacre, even in the presence sorts of debauchery, and committed of the holy father. That venerable the most detestable crimes. The Chrisman, full of the courage resulting tians who had escaped the carnage from hopeless misfortune and from and taken refuge in their churches, the hatred of tyranny, addressed the found not their altars that inviolable impious governor in these terms:- asylum which religion, even amongst “Ôf what crime can you accuse the the least civilized of the human race, hapless victims whose blood you seek has always made them; those altars, to shed? If after obtaining from us so often sanctified by the most august unlimited sacrifices; if after reducing mysteries, were defiled by every act of us to the most distressing indigence; the most brutal obscenity. Small is if after stripping our temples of their the number of those who escaped the most precious ornaments; if after fury of the barbarians; even the Eucompelling me to contribute to all the ropean Consuls were obliged to take necessities of the government, by hea- refuge on board their ships. vy exactions from my poor children, your fury is still insatiable, on me let your wrath be turned, on my head alone let your vengeance fall, and spare, oh! spare the blood of these innocent men! Forget not," continued he, "that there exists a God who beholds the actions of man, and who judges with rigid equity !"— The barbarian, interrupting him, replied, "Never has my heart been more engaged in a work appointed for me; and I lament, profane wretch, that I cannot in this place, and at this moment, before your eyes, subject every Christian to the same fate. I trust, at least, that not one of these dogs that are present will escape me." The massacre then began, and the sainted hierarch stood, with paternal tenderness, commending his beloved sons to the mercy of the Eternal. Various questions were afterwards addressed to the Archbishop, which he disdained to answer; but he declared that he had been guilty of no fault except a too invariable fidelity to the Sultan, whom too late he appreciated, and who had never merited the homage he had paid him. Then with deep anxiety for the salvation of those over whom he had watched, he humbly implored for them the mercy of God; and he prayed earnestly that the history of these calamitous events might rightly impress the heart of every monarch who worshiped the true God. Such were the scenes which passed in our isle on that fatal day; and such the scenes daily passing in some part of our country. The memory of our calamities will descend to the latest times, inspiring just and implacable hatred of the cursed race of Mussulmans; and all the Christian world will pay the tribute of commiseration to those illustrious victims who fell in the cause of their religion and their country. These fearful events took place on the 9th of July, 1821. SIR, York, July 4, 1823. YOUR correspondent Mr. Luc[pp. 286-292] has taken occasion, from a remarkable incident in Mrs. Cappe's Memoirs, to present your readers with some observations on what has been called a particular Providence ;-a subject on which he thinks the amiable and excellent author had formed very erroneous opinions. The same passage has suggested a similar train of thought to a writer in another valuable periodical work, the "Inquirer," whose remarks upon it closely resemble those of your correspondent. As it appears to me, notwithstanding the objections which have been urged with such minuteness and variety of detail by these writers, that Mrs. Cappe's argument is correct and philosophical, and her application of the incident alluded to, peculiarly striking and important, I hope you will allow me room in your next Number for the insertion of the following observations. In the first place, I must observe, that both your correspondent and the writer in the "Inquirer" have singularly misconceived the doctrine of a particular Providence,-at least in the shape in which it is maintained by the excellent person who is the subject of their remarks. According to Dr. Hartley, a general Providence implies the adaptation of the circumstances of the world to promote the happiness of the whole; a particular Providence consists in the adaptation of these circumstances with a view to the greatest good of each individual. The latter, as well as the former, he thinks that sound philosophy and revelation equally require us to admit. The general arguments for a divine moral government, says Dr. Price, (Dissertation on Providence, Sect. i.), "prove what has been called a particular, in opposion to a general Providence. We cannot conceive of any reasons to influence the Deity to exercise any providence over the world, which are not likewise reasons for extending it to all that happens in the world. As far as it is confined to generals, or overlooks any individual or any event, it is incomplete, and therefore, unsuitable to the idea of a perfect Being." In conformity with the views here stated, this eminent writer goes on to represent every creature in the universe as equally under the Divine care, and every change that takes place as resulting from the immediate exertion of Divine power. Having adverted to the hypothesis of those who choose rather to suppose that the same perfect direction of affairs takes place in consequence of an original esta blishment, without any subsequent divine agency, he observes, "If an exact foreknowledge of all actions and events, and such a perfect original establishment in consequence of it, as I have mentioned, are thought by any to be impossible; and if, for this reason, no more is supposed than that powers were given to beings, and general laws settled, and then events suffered to arise as they would, without any particular care or superintendency exercised over them; in this case, the doctrine of a Providence will be entirely rejected; and if such sentiments are true, the universe is a chaos; the character of the Parent of it is imperfect; all trust in him, and all supplications to him are absurd, and no part of practical religion has any good foundation.". If these views be correct, it follows that every thing which has happened, or is to happen in the universe, was immediately contemplated by the Divine mind, and formed from the beginning an essential part of the general plan; that every individual entered separately and distinctly into the view of his Creator; that not merely our existence, not merely our welfare in general, but every moment's existence, every the minutest circumstance which ministers to our welfare, was foreseen and provided for before. time commenced his course. It also follows that the execution, as well as the original design, is in the hands of the same great and wise Being, and that in every event which happens we behold the immediate exertion of divine power. Both those changes which appear to us to involve extensive and important consequences, and those which in our wisdom we denominate trifling and insignificant, the bursting of a bubble and of a world are equally parts of one system, equally indispensable links of the great chain of events by which the purposes of the Divine government are accomplished. But the believer in a particular Providence, thus defined, is not called upon to suppose that there are frequent, or any, deviations from the plan originally laid down; or that any events, except those proper miracles, for the reality of which we have scriptural evidence, are brought about in a manner different from that which our observation of the ordinary course of nature would lead us to expect. So far from it, a belief in permanent and uniform laws of nature, (considered, however, not as operating causes, but merely as the modes in which the Divine agency is unceasingly exerted,) forms an essential part of his system. The notion that any interference takes place, to suspend or alter these general laws, in order to prevent or mo dify certain consequences arising from them which had not been foreseen or intended, he justly rejects, as unphi. losophical and absurd; as unauthorized by any appearances, and inconsistent with those views which both reason and revelation require us to form of the infinite perfections of the Divine Nature. At the same time that he considers every phenomenon which attracts his attention as arising from the immediate exertion of divine power, he perceives that the purposes of infinite wisdom and goodness require that these phenomena should succeed each other according to uniform and invariable laws. If it were otherwise, the experience of the past could not form a rule for the future; and this world would no longer be fitted for the education and discipline of rational and moral creatures. These are conclusions which are evidently as open to him as to the believer in a mere general Providence. And it is impossible, I think, to read the passage referred to with the attention which it deserves, without perceiving that with the truth of these conclusions Mrs. Cappe's mind was fully impressed. Not a word do we there find of any express or miraculous interference;-on the contrary, in every particular of the story, the natural causes of the circumstances, (some of them such as we should call trivial and minute,) the combination of which was necessary to bring about the important consequence, are distinctly related ;-so distinctly, indeed, that I am at a loss to imagine how your correspondent, who has been at the pains of transcribing, and, therefore, must of course have read the whole passage, should have so completely misconceived it. Mrs. Cappe had too much humility and good sense, as well as sound philosophy, to suppose that a miracle was to be wrought for her preservation. Nevertheless, the whole of Mr. L.'s subsequent reasoning is founded on this false and gratuitous assumption. Or, perhaps, he really considers every event, which is supposed to have an immediate reference to some important purpose, as implying a miraculous interference. If this be his definition of a miracle, there is an end of the argument; for his error will then appear to arise merely from that indistinctness of ideas which is the necessary consequence of a vague and inaccurate use of language. According to Mr. L. it was assuming an unwarrantable degree of personal importance in the author to suppose that her preservation could be an object of sufficient magnitude to attract the attention of the Almighty. It would so, if she had imagined that she was an object of divine superintendence in any peculiar or exclusive manner;—but if she, at the same time, believed that every other human being, nay, every other creature possessed of life and sense, was an immediate object of its Creator's regard, it is obvious that a complete check must have been imposed upon all such feelings. For my own part, I should say it indicated a much more unwarrantable degree of presumption for a finite mortal to pronounce what objects were, and what were not, of sufficient value to deserve the immediate attention of the Supreme, or to limit either the possible or the actual exercise of his infinite attributes in watching over the interests of all the creatures which he hath made. If it is not derogatory to his dignity to suppose that divine power was employed in the formation even of a worm or an insect, surely it cannot be unreasonable to believe that infinite wisdom and goodness are also displayed in providing for its sustenance and enjoyment. And if so, would it be irrational or presumptuous to suppose, even if we had no better ground than our own unassisted reason for the persuasion, that he will much more care for the interests of the children of men? Indeed, to suppose otherwise would be to destroy to every practical purpose the belief God over his creatures. If, then, Mr. in a moral government exercised by L. admits that any cases can be proposed in which the welfare or preservation of an individual human being would be not undeserving of the Divine regard, we are entitled, I think, to presume, from the very high but 3 F It is scarcely necessary to observe, that by this term I must be understood in this place to mean, not efficient, but physical causes only; or those antecedent circumstances which uniformly and invariably precede the effect. Of efficient causes, properly and strictly so called, acknowledge but one.. VOL. XVIII. I |
