nature of the things with which they are concerned. But it so happened that in Greek, in which the apostle was writing, diaden with equal propriety designated both covenant and will. He applies it to either dispensation in that sense which the nature of the dispensation respectively admits, or rather demands. And this is all the mystery there is about the matter; a mystery which does not seem to demand a second Daniel in order to solve it.

The point of reasoning is not that "because a will is valid only by the death of a testator, therefore a covenant must be confirmed by blood." This does not hit the mark of Paul's logic at all. His point is simply this: "Because the new dispensation, (properly named testament on account of the death of the author which sanctioned it), was ratified by blood, therefore (öev, whence or therefore) the old dispensation, (which could only be called covenant), which was designed throughout in its ritual to be symbolic, required blood in order to its ratification."

If this syllogism is lame, I have not eyes to see it. It seems to me to walk quite as erect and alert as the other, viz., that because Christ's death was necessary to atone for sin, therefore symbols of it, i. e. expiatory sacrifices of beasts, were ordained as a part of the ancient dispensation.

I know well that Paul, or whoever may be the author of the epistle to the Hebrews, has often been charged here with poor logic. Even Bleek, in his recent Commentary on this epistle, does not exempt the author from the charge; and Rückert exults in such charges against Paul, as well as Fritsche and Meyer. But it needs sharper optics than I have, to see either imperfect or childish ratiocination here. The simple truth is, that the apostle's main point has often been mistaken; and then he has been charged with all the consequences of oversight, or want of sight, in his interpreters. I must solicit permission, however, to be indulged in entering my gravest protest, against injustice of such a nature. The fault is not in Paul, although some of his epistles have in them things, which Peter himself seems to intimate were hard to be understood. Paul goes deep indeed into sacred mysteries; for how could he, who had been caught up into the third heaven and taught there, avoid so doing? Yet I do not think, that Peter would have reckoned the passage that I have now re-examined, among the passages which he seems

to regard as difficult. I say seems to regard, for it may well be doubted, whether Peter bears testimony respecting what Paul writes, or in regard to the subjects which he canvasses; see περὶ τούτων, ἐν οἷς (not (ἐν αἷς,) in 2 Pet. 3 : 16.

At all events, it is time, as it seems to me, that discussion were at an end respecting Heb. 9: 16-18. The case is, on the whole, so plain that when the words as well as the object in view, are soberly weighed, I cannot well see how any philologist can bring himself to doubt. When I first published my Commentary on the epistle to the Hebrews, I received several letters from highly respected friends, calling in question my interpretations, and defending, in a variety of ways, that now advocated by Mr. Barnes. I have adverted to these in my second edition. Mr. B. has now called up the subject anew, and I have to thank him for being the occasion of my now becoming more satisfied than ever, that the ground which I then took was firm and tenable. I would hope that his own mind may now be satisfied, and also the minds of others, who have hitherto been hesitating about the exegesis which I had given. If not, the way is entirely open for him or them, to show either the erroneous philology or the bad logic, that I have employed, if indeed I am fairly exposed to either allegation. The simple lover of truth will never hesitate in desiring his own errors to be exposed; and readily will he receive the truth, from whatever quarter it may come. It could scarcely come to me, if I am in an error in regard to the subject discussed, from a more acceptable quarter, than from the highly respected friend and brother, who has given occasion to this renewed investigation.

SECOND SERIES, VOL. VII., NO. II.

ARTICLE IV.

THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENTS OF THOMAS CARLYLE.

By Rev. Merrill Richardson, Terrysville, Ct.

It is not often that we would attempt to ascertain a writer's religious sentiments from his popular literary productions. Surely this would be an unfair, as well as a useless course to pursue in the case of most Reviewers. But while Carlyle is pre-eminently distinguished as a man of letters, he so blends the two, religion and literature-rather, we would say, making them one and the same thing-that in reading his literary productions we are compelled to dwell upon his singular articles of faith. His religion shows itself upon almost every page. In his estimation of men; in his criticisms upon their literature and philosophy; and in his remarks upon their views of political and ethical science, it is their religion which he first shows us; and with him this is the test by which he will try men and all their works; this is his clue to all which is worth the knowing of man and of his doings. It is a maxim with him, and he every where proceeds upon it, that given the religion of a man, or of a nation, what the individual or nation is, will readily appear.

'A man's religion,' he says, 'is, in every sense, the chief fact with regard to him. Not his creed, not his profession and assertion; but the thing a man does practically believe, and lay to heart, and for certain knows concerning his vital relations to this mysterious universe; his duty and his destiny there; that is in all cases the primary thing for him, and creatively determines all the rest. This may be a religion, or a no-religion; an affirmation or a denial; a heathenism or a christianism; a system embracing one God or many. Knowing what was believed, or what was disbelieved upon this subject, and we have the soul of the history of the man or the nation. For the thoughts they had were the parents of the actions they did; their feelings were parents of their thoughts; it was the unseen spiritual in them that determined the outward and actual; hence their religion is the primary fact to be ascertained about a man or a nation.'

It is in accordance with the above statements that Carlyle proceeds, whenever the conduct and doings of men come in review. In his Essays, his own sentiments touching religion are freely declared. He looks at all men and at all things through a religious medium. When we least expect it, we meet with the most sublime and startling thoughts bearing on this subject. And after a close perusal of most of his pieces, the reflections which pass through the mind are of a religious

cast.

We deem it proper, therefore, to attempt to ascertain Carlyle's religion, or his "no religion," from his literary productions. The truth is, we cannot read his writings and not know very much of his peculiar faith. He lays down no creed, and yet no man's creed is more plainly written. The items of his faith are not numbered andin order like the "five points," or the "thirty-nine articles ;" yet a careful study of his works will give us about as clear a view of what he believes as we have of the creed of Calvin, or of the church of England. In fact, using the term religion generically, Carlyle may be styled a religious writer; he is so understood. And we apprehend that no moralist or minister is exerting so much influence to form the religious opinions of some portions of our country as this Reviewer. Says a writer in the British and Foreign Review, "We speak from some experience, when we say that the prevalent inclination of men to despise and disbelieve has been in many cases increased by the influence of Mr. Carlyle's opinions. In America, where he is said to be even better known than in England, his imitators appear to be so eager to obey his precepts, by action, earnestness, and reverence, that they seriously propose to each other to cultivate originality by forgetting all the instruction they have derived from Europe, and to revive the spirit of religion by the abolition of all forms of worship, and the rejection, or which is equivalent, the indiscriminate adoption, of all existing and imaginable creeds."[Am. Eclectic for March, 1842, p. 229.]

How much influence his writings have had in causing the disturbances of a certain ecclesiastical denomination in Massachusetts, we would not wish to decide. He early received. the congratulations of many literary men of that State. And the compiler of his Miscellanies, in his preface, makes the following remark:-"It is a fact worth remembering in our

literary history, that his rich and cheerful genius found its earliest audience in or near New England, from young men who had complained with the first Quaker, that, in the multitude of teachers, none spake to our condition."

Carlyle is now read in many of our Colleges and Seminaries, with more interest than any other writer. Not read at first for his Theology; but so striking and peculiar are many of his thoughts upon man's spiritual nature, and his connection with the Deity, that he is soon studied for his religion. Novel and startling ideas respecting the general and long es tablished habits of thought and action are constantly suggested to the mind-quaintly and yet most significantly expressed; the whole aspect of the subject seems changed; it is new, it looks philosophical; it is dressed in an attractive, often in a fantastic garb; there come clustered around it figures of speech which would make Quinctilian stare; images from the heavens above, and from the earth beneath, and from the waters and all else under the earth, rise in grotesque forms before the mind; the whole subject is so pictured out that we are forced to look-at times, at the skill of the artistalways at the figures upon the canvass. There is beauty; often the finest touches of poetry; there is sublimity of thought and diction to recommend it. We read and re-read it, and continually see more and feel deeper. All our former settled notions in matters of faith are liable to be jostled; and in some instances, to our knowledge, have been set tottering to the fall.

That Carlyle loves the element which Madame de Stäel gave to the Germans-the air-a glance at his Miscellanies will show. Yet, with few exceptions, he does not soar so high; does not so far transcend, that the less aerial may not follow. He takes us kindly by the hand, promises us safe conduct and speedy landing, when he invites us to go with him into the azure deep of his still more transcendent neighbors. We follow-for who can help it with such cheerful company?—and if, while more unaccustomed to such giddy heights, to look upon such vast and confused prospects, we do not see objects so distinctly as he would have us, yet we feel reluctant to descend; certainly till we are satisfied there are or are not worthy sights to behold.

Familiarity with German literature, particularly with the philosophy of Kant and his expositors, would aid us much