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 and in 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

Con

in a thorough examination of Carlyle's spiritual nature. fessing our want of such familiarity, we proceed, with an eye upon his writings generally, to state, in as brief a manner as possible, the view Carlyle takes of most of those subjects, in treating of which he has given us a clue to his Religious Sen

timents.

To quote particular sentences of his and say in these he means this or that, would be as unfair and foolish as it would be to take the same course to ascertain the religious belief of the Poet. Much of his writing is poetical, though the rhyme and capital letters are wanting; and more than poetical license must be granted him in his prose. His assertions and denials; his admirations and his condemnations; his lamentations and his rejoicings; his love and his hatred, are so often reiterated and so strongly expressed, that it is not difficult to know his moral feelings. He appears a most fearless and independent thinker. The tight-lacings' of all creeds and parties he seems utterly to discard. He stands alone, a perfect Cyclops, hurling his thunderbolts with fatal aim at whatever he hates; yet embracing with the kindest, fullest heart, whatever he loves. And he loves much and he hates much but the objects of his affection and contempt are not those of any particular class of mortals. He is most frequently found worshiping before shrines which the civilized world has long since pronounced idolatrous; and often breaking in pieces as dumb idols the gods of the worldly, great and learned. He is more devout in sight of the Caabah at Mecca than before the great Cathedral of London; for he sees as clearly that the black stone in the former descended from heaven as he does that the pomps and splendor of the latter can claim. this high origin; and he would feel that in Mecca he was surrounded with more sincere worshipers than he would find in the metropolis of his own kingdom. But we hasten to the point directly before us.

;

And first, Carlyle's Lamentations. His burdens are those of the ancient Hebrew Prophets; the unbelief, the heartlessness, the idolatry of the age. He is a perfect Jeremiah, wanting the girdle and perhaps the tears! when he looks at the irreligion of the eighteenth and thus far of the nineteenth century. And his Jeremiads are numerous, strong and pathetic.

'Faith is almost universally wanting; sight and sound

have taken its place. The church, the state, every corpora tion, every society and sect has wrapt itself in forms, and sits cold and heartless, in the sable pall of death. Deep thought has left the mind; deep, ardent feeling has been excluded from the soul. Machinery has every where been substituted for sincere, strong individual activity. Does one wish to suppress a vice, correct an error, burn out some of the sins of this sinning world?-he has no spiritual fire within him self, like an Isaiah, a Paul, a Mahomet, a Dante, with which to do it! Not he! To engage in such Titan labors man has now no faith or strength. His vanity cries so loud to be gratified that he cannot engage in silent, single-handed, patient effort. There must be flourishing of trumpets; he must call in others to assist at least to look on and applaud; he must form his party, issue his periodical, send out his agents, erect his chapel,-in short he must do all by machinery. The age is mechanical. As in the physical world the draught horse is turned loose as too slow and powerless, and the fire horse harnessed in his place, so in the spiritual world the natural, patient effort of individual man is supplanted by mechanical furtherances. And in all this there is no spirituality, no heart!

Christianity, religion, whose only appropriate channel is the soul of man, is propagated by strictly mechanical fixtures. Instead of the exercise of pure Reason, appeals are made to the same low passions and faculties for the spread of the gospel as for constructing a rail-road. Great meetings are called; vain and hollow-hearted speeches are made, and puffed in all the prints of the realm. What they call the spirit of piety is generated almost by the same natural process as the steam of the engineer. And then comes what is miscalled Benevolence; that is, one gives a large sumtells of it-others tell of it; then another gives because he gave; and another still, knowing that his name will be published with the sum annexed, and not liking to be out-charitied, gives; and so on through all the parts of this machinery of Vanity. Is this the not letting the right hand know what the left hand does? Is this the secret almsgiving and prayer enjoined in the gospel according to Matthew? Does not true virtue, by the very act of exposing itself, cease to be virtue? O, for a Paul, a Mahomet, a Luther, a Knox, even a Bunyan, or a Quaker Fox, that has the spiritual strength and firm faith