413 Interesting Narrative connected with the late Duke of York. 414 Clergy of the Diocese of St. David's; Mo- | peared to have the boy under her care) tives to the Study of Hebrew, with some where he had learned to speak the English elementary tracts to facilitate that branch language, she replied that the boy was born of knowledge; a Letter to the Bishop of in Scotland, that his father, who had been Durham, on the origin of the Pelasgi and a sergeant in the 42d regiment, had served the Eolic Digamma, in answer to Bishop the year before in the British army under Marsh's Hora Pelasgica; The First Prin- Sir John Moore, and was killed at the ciples of Christian Knowledge, in Two battle in front of Corunna; previous to Catechisms; A Collection of Tracts and which, on the retreat of the British troops Observations, on the authenticity of the from Lugo, the mother, together with the famous text, 1 John v. 7.-The import- boy, were left behind, sick, in the hospital ance of the subject will be an apology for at Lngo; that she fell a victim to disease, a novel argument from the last mentioned and her child was found in the hospital, in performance: "The controverted passage an abandoned, wretched condition, by the contains a proof of two truths, which were French officer of cavalry, who at that modeclared at the commencement of the epis- ment commanded the cavalry that convoyed tle the DIVINITY and HUMANITY of us on our way to France. When an opChrist-which were denied by two opposite portunity offered, I introduced the subject heresies. HE who is declared to be "that to the French commandant, who corroboeternal life which was with the Father," is rated the story related by the Spanish lady, asserted to be "the true God, and the who it turned out was his chère amie. I eternal life." The Divinity of Christ, then mentioned the circumstance to the which in the former passage is asserted on British officer, who, as well as myself, conthe authority of the apostles, is in the latter jointly endeavoured to prevail on the French proved by the testimony of the three hea- officer to give up the child to his natural venly Witnesses. The Humanity, which in protectors, but all our arguments and enone place is asserted on the personal know- treaties were in vain, for he was so much ledge and intercourse of the apostles, is attached to the boy, that he would not part proved in the other by three evidences of with him on any account. his death,-by his expiration on the cross, and by the blood and water which issued from his side." From hence it is clear that the seventh verse is indispensable to the apostolical (From a Correspondent of the Gentleman's Magazine.) PASSING Over the Guadarama mountains, seven leagues north of Madrid, on the 13th October, 1809, accompanied by some British officers of the Guards, about 80 British soldiers, and several Spaniards, the whole convoyed by a strong escort of French troops, cavalry and infantry, I perceived in the centre of the escort a very interesting looking child, apparently seven years old, sitting with a Spanish female in a kind of cart. The appearance of the boy indicated that he was not a native of a southern climate this, together with a naïveté and playfulness in his manner, induced me to address him. I accordingly spoke to him in Spanish, to which he made a suitable reply; and to my no small surprise, immediately after, he addressed me in English. Having inquired of the female (who ap At this period, independent of his history, the manners of the child were extremely interesting, and he could speak four languages with no small degree of fluency. French, he acquired from the French officer; German, from the officer's servant, who happened to be of the Saxon contingent; Spanish, from the female, who could not speak a word of French; and he still retained a knowledge of his native tongue. We journeyed together three weeks longer towards the French frontier, and on our arrival at Tolosa, 30 miles south of Bayonne, the French commandant received orders to conduct the Spanish prisoners of war to the fortress of Pampeluna, while the British wounded, who fell into the hands of the enemy in the hospital after the battle of Talavera, were ordered to prosecute their march to France; but (as I was subsequently informed) the road to Pampeluna being intercepted by the Spanish Guerillas, it was necessary that the French officer should restore the communication at the head of a large force. In the mean time he left his establishment at Tolosa, until it would be prudent to order it to rejoin him; but the Spanish lady (on account of living with a French officer) dreaded the, resentment of her countrymen so much, that in a few days after the departure of the French officer, she fled, and deserted the child in her charge. About a month after this period, Captain, now Major H- -, of the 23d Dragoons, whose wounds did not permit him to accompany us from Madrid, in passing through Tolosa on his way to Verdun, accidentally heard that there was an English boy in an abandoned, forlorn condition in the town. He immediately took the child under his protection, and having heard at Orleans that I had received a passport to return to England, and being anxious that I should convey some letters to his family, ventured to proceed to Paris; here I recognized my little travelling companion, who recollected me immediately. In a few days I prevailed on Captain H-to allow me to take the boy to England; and having presented my little protegé at the Bureau de Guerre, his manners and history soon obtained permission for him to return home. Previous to leaving the French metropolis, Captain H- gave me a letter, addressed to his royal highness the Duke of York, the founder of the Military Asylum, and another letter to the Marquis of Huntley, colonel of the regiment in which the boy's father had served. On my arrival in London, I lost no time in delivering these letters, and soon after was (together with the child) honoured by an interview with his royal highness, who was very much pleased with the boy, took him in his arms, and spoke to him in French and German, to which the little fellow made suitable answers. His royal highness was pleased to make every necessary arrangement for the boy's admisson into the Royal Military Asylum, Chelsea, with as little delay as possible. Lord Huntley, on receipt of Captain H.'s letter, immediately wrote to the colonel of the 1st battalion 42d regiment, then quartered at Canterbury, to make inquiry if the child had any friends living in Scotland. In a few days after, (it being necessary to procure the Marquis of Huntley's signature to some papers, previous to the boy's admission into the asylum,) I, together with my little protegé, was proceeding to Richmond House for that purpose, when, on our arrival in Charing Cross, I perceived a soldier, in the Highland uniform, walking leisurely about 100 yards before me; I soon overtook this man, who happened to serve in the 42d regiment, and having inquired of him if he had been acquainted with Sergeant M'Cullum of his regiment, who was killed the year before at Corunna, he answered, "Sir, I did not know any man of that name who was killed, but will you be so good as to tell me why you have asked me that question." Because, said I, pointing out to him the boy, that is his child, whom I first found in Spain.—“ Oh! sir," said he, (rushing over to the boy,) "he is my child; James, don't you know me?" The scene that took place can be more easily imagined than describedalternation of joy and grief, exultation and despondency, depicted in the countenance, and evinced in the manner of this soldier, on the sudden discovery of his long lost child, and on his being simultaneously made acquainted with the death of his wife. I must confess it affected me so much, that (as well to repress my feelings, as to avoid the crowd that collected around us in the street) I was obliged to retire into the next shop that presented itself. In a short time we proceeded together to Richmond House; where, after having presented my protegé to Lord Huntley, I related to his lordship the discovery I had just made, and the extraordinary circumstance attending it. On the soldier being brought forward, he delivered a letter to Lord Huntley from Colonel Sterling, then commanding the 1st battalion 42d regiment, at Canterbury, which stated, that he was happy to inform his lordship, that the man alluded to in his lordship's letter, relative to an orphan boy of the regiment, was severely wounded at Corunna, (but not killed,) and was the bearer of his letter, and he had sent the man to town without making him acquainted with the object of his journey. It then appeared that this soldier was in the act of proceeding to Richmond House with this letter to Lord Huntley, when I accidentally fell in with him. In a few days after, the boy was admitted into the Royal Military Asylum, where he now is. We parted from each other with mutual regret; he wept so bitterly, that his tears were nearly contagious. In justice to Lord Huntley, I must add, that his lordship, in a very handsome manner, offered to remunerate me for the expenses I had incurred in clothing and bringing the boy to England, &c. which I begged leave to decline, stating, that whatever little merit might be ascribed to me for taking care of the boy, would in my opinion be done away with, by accepting any pecuniary recompense; I therefore hoped his lordship would excuse my receiving any. Lord Huntley was then pleased to say, it was evident, from the appearance of the boy, that I had taken every possible care of him, and added, that he would be happy at any time to do any thing in his power to forward my promotion.—March, 1810. SOLITARY HOURS. No. XVIII.-On the Certainty of a future State. (Continued from col. 331.) "Since virtue's recompense is doubtful, here, Since virtue sometimes ruins us on earth, EVER since the mournful period, when our universal progenitor procured his expulsion from paradise, the world has been divided into two great classes, essentially different in the grand elements of their moral character. The one class are the drudges of sin, and are regulated in all their actions by the suggestions of their depraved minds; the other are the servants of God, and are guided and governed, amid all the circumstances of life, by that revelation of his will which he has graciously vouchsafed to them. To the first class, the doctrine of a future state is the most alarming intelligence which can be sounded in their hearing; and they often attempt to neutralize the forebodings which it occasions, by endeavouring to bring their minds to doubt of its truth. To the second class, the belief of a future state is fraught with the richest consolation; and there is nothing of greater importance to their peace of mind, and their advancement in the divine life, than their implicit faith in this momentous doctrine. The man who is decidedly convinced of the divine origin of the Christian revelation, is furnished with more than sufficient evidence regarding the certainty of a future state. It is asserted in innumerable passages of the sacred volume, that there is a state of existence beyond the grave; and that every rational being shall exist in another world, either as the subject of intolerable wo, or of ineffable felicity. But though the doctrine of a future state is thus explicitly inculcated throughout the volume of inspiration, of its truth many are sceptical, and by others it is absolutely denied. Their disbelief, however, does not arise from any evidence to the contrary; but is to be attributed to the depravity of their minds, and the immorality of their conduct, which, in the first instance, generate a wish that there were no future state, 101.-VOL. IX. as the only way by which they can hope to escape the punishment which their consciences tell them their delinquency deserves; and what the human mind thus anxiously wishes, it does not require any superabundance of argument to induce it to adopt as an article of its creed. If we contemplate the moral attributes of the Deity, the principles of reason assure us that he is a gracious and benevolent Being. In the expanded volume of creation, notwithstanding all the disorder, deformity, and misery which sin has introduced into the world, we perceive the most convincing demonstrations of divine goodness. Every step of our journey through the world is strewed with innumerable benefits. We are daily crowned with the tender mercies of our God, and his loving-kindnesses are new to us every morning. Man, however, is a moral creature, and consequently, can be the subject of divine goodness only for a very limited time, if that goodness is eternally to terminate at the article of death. But to suppose that a Being possessed of infinite benevolence or goodness, should cease to exercise his goodness when man feels the last pang of dissolving nature, is to suppose one of the most monstrous absurdities which could enter the degenerate imagination of a sentient being. It is to suppose, either that man was the subject of the infinite goodness of God in the present life, or that God is mutable, and ceases to cherish those sentiments of love and kindness which once glowed in his bosom to the children of men. Now, that man is not the subject of the goodness of God, in all its infinitude, in the present world, is a self-evident propo sition; for were he so, he should be entirely exempt from every thing which could occa→ sion the least uneasiness, and should enjoy perfect and permanent felicity; but as complete happiness hath never been enjoyed by man in the present state of existence, it is most reasonable to conclude that he shall exist in another world, where he shall enjoy that unmixed felicity which is consistent with the infinite goodness of the Divine Being. Nor is this all; it would represent him as voluntarily depriving his creatures of that happiness which it is in his power to confer on them, without the slightest diminution of his own; which supposition would be to place the Almighty in a very unamiable light; and in proportion to the evidence that this cannot be. predicated of Deity, is our assurance that there must be a future state-a state of existence beyond the regions of the present evil world. 2 D The wisdom of God is guarantee for the certainty of a future state. "Great and manifold are thy works, Lord God Almighty; in wisdom hast thou made them all!" must be the exclamation of the man who attentively contemplates the wonders of creation's. volume, in the dispensations of Divine Providence. There is no part of created existence, within the range of human investigation, which does not loudly proclaim the infinite wisdom of the Great Architect; and in precise proportion to the depth of our acquaintance with the wonders of creation's works, will be our admiration of the wisdom and intelligence of Him by whose agency they were produced. Now, I would ask, is it reasonable to allow ourselves for one moment to imagine, that the Being who has furnished us with such illustrious exhibitions of his wisdom in all the other works he hath performed, should prove himself so deficient in the case of man? Regarding the wonderful and complicated mechanism evinced in the formation of the human body, and in the intellectual qualities with which the mind of man is endowed, there is, unquestionably, so far as we are able to judge, a much more illustrious manifestation of this perfection of Deity, than in any of the other works of creation with which we are acquainted; but then, if on the departure of the animating spark from its clay tenement, he falls into a state of annihilation, the wisdom which God has displayed in his creation, is considerably neutralized by the circumstance of his appointing him to so short-lived an existence. It is a doctrine of natural as well as of revealed religion, that the material world with which we are connected, is formed for the comfort and temporary accommodation of man; but, if at the article of dissolution man ceases to exist, we cannot perceive the wisdom of God in creating such a wonderful world for such limited existence. If man ceases to exist at the moment of death we must be led to conclude, that the Divine Being has attached a greater degree of importance to the inanimate world itself, than to those intelligent individuals for whose use and temporary accommodation it was intended,for the world has existed for many centuries, and may yet last for many centuries to come,-whereas the present life of man extends only to a few years. It is agreeable to every idea which natural religion leads us to form respecting the Deity, to suppose, that he intended all things for his own glory. Now, through this medium, man can only glorify the Supreme Being as far as he is acquainted with him in the varied displays of his works; for it is only so far that we are capable of yielding him an enlightened and voluntary service; but the knowledge which man can attain in the present life, regarding the majesty of Heaven, and his wonderful works with which we are surrounded, is no more to be compared with what is unattainable by us in our present state, than a particle of fluid can be compared in size to our terraqueous globe. We cannot, therefore, perceive how it could be at all reconcilable with the plenitude of. Divine wisdom, to perform such wonderful works as those with which creation is replete, and to call man into existence, and endow him with faculties for the purpose of contemplating and adoring him in these, "and then, at the very moment when he might be said to be beginning to answer partially the primary end of his existence, thrust him into a state of utter and eternal annihilation. Of all extravagant suppositions," this unquestionably is the most monstrous!-and it furnishes us with a melancholy demonstration of the powerful influence which a depraved heart exercises over the reasoning faculties of man. It surely would be more consonant with the wisdom which the works of creation ascribe to God, to believe that when man terminates his earthly being, his spirit should enter on a new state of existence, where its faculties should be enlarged to contemplate and comprehend much of those works of its Creator with which it was but partially acquainted while here, and regarding many of which it was entirely ignorant ;-that it might be thereby rendered capable of serving and glorifying him for ever, in a manner corresponding to the excellency of his character. But the certainty of a future state appears also from the righteousness or justice of the Supreme Being. Let it once be admitted that the Supreme Being is unbounded in goodness and infinite in wisdom, and it must of necessity follow, that he is inflexible in justice; for justice is an inseparable accompaniment of goodness and wisdom. To dispense justice is simply to do what it is wise and good should be done. Hence, every individual who has ever formed any conception of a Supreme Being, has associated justice with the other essential attributes of his character. Now, when we look around us in the world, we perceive that justice is not executed on the children of men, in this life. The man whose mind is rankled by the worst passions which can actuate human nature, is often permitted to pass through this life without having been made the subject of the visible visitation of retributive justice. In the history of individuals, as it is recorded by the pen of the faithful biographer, and in those parts of their conduct which have come under our own actual observations, we are furnished with the most revolting instances of every species of crime which human nature can commit; and in the far greater number of these cases, we have not seen any particular infliction of that punishment which their conduct had merited. How often have our minds recoiled with horror at the diabolical doings of a blood-thirsty Nero! Human nature, in its present state, is incapable of enduring a punishment adequate to such culpability; and therefore we infer, that as there is a Supreme Being, possessed of those attributes which natural religion ascribes to him, there must necessarily be a future state, in which impartial retribution shall be administered to the children of men. But, in adducing instances of cruelty, at the contemplation of which the human mind recoils, it is not requisite to recur to the history of individuals who have performed their parts on the stage of life in former ages; there are unhappily too many unequivocal proofs of the same revolting conduct in our own day. Is there an individual in existence, acquainted with the history of the West India colonies, and possessing in his bosom a spark of humanity, who has not felt his soul recoil within him, and has not blushed for the inhumanity of his species, while he has contemplated the relentless severity with which our countrymen, in those regions, lacerate and torture the wretched Negroes? There is an undefinable something existing in the bosom of every Negro, which proclaims aloud, though ignorant of a written revelation, that there will be a future state-a state in which his multiplied wrongs shall be fully repaired. He shall not be disappointed; for the Divine Being would never have impressed the minds of his creatures with so strong a presentiment of a future state, if no such state existed; nor would it be consistent with the justice of his character, to permit such atrocious impieties as we frequently witness in the colonies referred to, to pass unpunished. Nor are these outrages on the principles of humanity and justice confined to our foreign possessions; they are--and it is with the utmost reluctance we confess itto be witnessed in the every-day occurrences of our own country. Independently of the inhuman conduct of one individual to another, recorded to us through the medium of the public press, and of those, which we regret to say, are not exposed to the execration of the world, there are many scenes of outrageous injustice and cruelty, with which every individual must be familiar from actual observation. We have known a harsh and tyrannical master inflict the most excruciating castigation on a poor inoffensive orphan, whom necessitous circumstances in the order of Providence had placed in his service; and, in many instances, the culpable party has been closely connected in the bonds of consanguinity with the object of his hatred. The parent has, in many cases, by the cruelty of his conduct, prepared for his child a premature grave; and the grown-up child has, by similar conduct, shortened the parent's days-thus superseding, in the work of death, the operations of the infirmities of life, and the common course of nature. If, from the domestic and more retired walks of life, we make a transition to the conduct of those who occupy public situations in the affairs of society, our minds will sicken with horror at the atrocities which, alas! in too many instances, are there practised. Have we not seen, in our own day, some individuals possessed of the spirit of a demon, who, arrogating to themselves the title of warriors or heroes, and having conquered, mutilated, and massacred thousands and tens of thousands of an opposing army, have marched in mockmajesty through the territories of the vanquished,-spreading, on every side, among men, women, and children, devastation, misery, and death. If the reader will recall to his recollection the recent diabolical proceedings of the Turks towards the unfortunate Greeks, on the island of Scio, he will be furnished with a convincing proof of the atrocious actions which humannature is capable of perpetrating. But, besides this, there is a mental species of injustice and cruelty, of which many in the world are guilty, and which may be said, in some sense, to be attended with as great a degree of delinquency as that which is of a corporeal nature. Let us refer to those instances of perfidious friendship, base ingratitude, malignant attacks on private character, and heartless indifference to many of the most affecting scenes of human wretchedness, which are so often to be met with in the world. What can be more painful to the man of unbending rectitude, |