1849.]

Smith on the Voyage and Shipwreck of St. Paul. 795

We are next told that, fearing they should be driven towards the Syrtis, they lowered the gear (not "strake sail," which would be equivalent to saying that, being apprehensive of a certain danger, they deprived themselves of the only possible means of avoiding it). A ship, preparing for a storm, sends down upon deck the "top hamper," or gear connected with the fair-weather sails, such as the suppara, or top sails.

When the ship was thus borne along, ovros éqέgovio, she was not only undergirded and made snug, but had storm-sails set, and was on the starboard tack, i. e. with her right side to the wind, which was the only course by which she could avoid falling into the Syrtis. On the next day, they threw overboard the ship's tackling. From the expression avrozepes, with our own hands,' Mr. Smith supposes the main-yard is meant, an immense spar, probably as long as the ship, and which might require the united efforts of passengers and men. The storm continued, with unabated fury, for eleven days more. "All hope was taken away;" probably not so much from the fury of the gale as from the state of the ship, their exertions to keep her from foundering being unavailing. At length, on the fourteenth night, the seamen suspected (to use the graphic sea-phrase of Luke) "the land was nearing them," I probably from the noise of the breakers. No ship can enter St. Paul's Bay in Malta, from the east, without passing within a quarter of a mile of the point of Koura; but before reaching it, the land is too low, and too far from the track of a ship driven from the eastward, to be seen in a dark night. When she does come within this distance, it is impossible to avoid observing the breakers, which are so violent as to form its distinctive character. On the 10th of August, 1810, the British frigate, Lively, went to pieces on these very breakers, at the point of Koura. Mr. Smith here goes into calculations, in order to show that a ship, starting late in the evening from Clauda, would, by midnight on the fourteenth, be less than three miles from the entrance of St. Paul's Bay. A coincidence so close as this, is, to a certain extent, accidental; but it is an accident which could not have happened had there been any inaccuracy, on the part of the author of the narrative, with regard to the numerous incidents upon which the calculations are founded, or had the ship been wrecked anywhere but at Malta.

The number of conditions required in order to make any locality agree with the narrative, are so numerous as to render it morally impossible to suppose that the agreement, in the present case, can be the effect of chance. The first circumstance is, that the shipmen suspected the approach of land evidently without seeing it. The quarter-master of the Lively states, in his evidence at the court-martial, that at the distance of a quarter of a mile, the land could not be seen, but that he saw the surf on the shore Comp. Terraeque urbesque recedunt.

1

Another point is this: the shipmen when they sounded, found twenty fathoms, and then fifteen fathoms. Every ship, indeed, in approaching the land, must pass over twenty fathoms and fifteen fathoms; but here, must not only the twenty-fathom depth be close to the spot where they had the indications of land, but it must bear E. by S. from the fifteen-fathom depth, and at such a distance as would allow of preparation for anchoring, with four anchors from the stern, which must have required some time. Now about half an hour further, the depth was fifteen fathoms. Fearing lest they should fall upon rocks, they cast four anchors out of the stern. This implies that there were rocks to leeward, on which they were in danger of falling; but the fifteen-fathom depth is as nearly as possible a quarter of a mile from the shore, which is here girt with mural precipices, and on which the sea must have been breaking violently. Their only chance of safety was to anchor; but to do this in a gale, on a lee shore, not only requires time, but very tenacious holding-ground. Is there such ground here? In the English Sailing Directions, it is said: "The harbor of St. Paul is open to easterly and north-east winds. It is, notwithstanding, safe for small ships, the ground generally being very good; and while the cables hold, there is no danger, as the anchors will never start.” But why anchor from the stern? "Anchora de prora jacitur," it being much easier to arrest a ship's way by the bow than the stern. Ships constructed like those of the ancients were, of necessity, amply provided with anchors and cables. It seems, too, from the figure of the ship, in the picture of Theseus deserting Ariadne, that they could anchor by the stern, as they had hause-holes aft, (a hauser is seen towing astern; it passes through the rudder-port, and within board it is seen coiled round an upright beam or capstan, in front of the break of the poop-deck). The advantages of being anchored in this manner are, that by cutting away the anchors, loosing the bands of the rudders, and hoisting the artemon, the fore-sail (not the main-sail), all of which could be done simultaneously, the ship was immediately under command, and could be directed with precision to any part of the shore which offered a prospect of safety. But if anchored in the usual mode, she might have taken "the wrong cast," or drifted on the rocks. The number of anchors let go, show that nothing was neglected.

The shipmen, after taking a meal, lightened the ship, not only by pumping, but by throwing the wheat into the sea. When day broke, they knew not the land, but it had certain peculiarities; the shore was rocky, Toaɣsis Tóлous, it being in fact skirted with precipices; they then discovered a creek with a sandy beach (ayiaλóv, in a restricted sense means this, in contradistinction to a rocky coast). Into this creek they were minded to thrust the ship. They now cut their cables, and left the anchors in the sea;

1849.]

Miscellanies, Theological and Literary.

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and, loosing the lashings of the rudder, and hoisting the fore-sail, they made for the creek. On the west side of the bay, there are two creeks. One of them, Mestara Valley, has a shore. The other, though its sandy beach has been worn away by the action of the sea, was probably the scene of the wreck, for here "two seas meet." At the entrance of the bay, where the ship anchored, it could not have been suspected that, at the bottom of it, there was a communication with the sea outside. But such is the case. Salmone island, which separates the bay from the sea outside, is formed by a long rocky ridge, separated from the main land by a channel of not more than a hundred yards in breadth. Near this channel, they ran the ship ashore; the fore part stuck fast, but the stern was dashed in pieces. A ship, impelled by a gale into a creek, such as that in St. Paul's Bay, would strike a bottom of mud, graduating into tenacious clay, into which the fore part would fix itself and be held fast, while the stern was exposed to the force of the waves.

We have thus given a very brief outline of the results of these accurate and most interesting investigations. All the necessary maps and illustrations are provided. The remainder of the volume is occupied with a dissertation on the ships of the ancients, and with observations on the life and writings of Luke, and the sources of his histories.

ARTICLE X.

MISCELLANIES, THEOLOGICAL AND LITERARY.

OUR readers are already apprised of the death of Dr. De Wette, the veteran commentator, and professor of theology in the university of Basil. We have not learned the circumstances or the exact time of his death. Early in our next volume, we shall endeavor to give an extended account of his life and of his principal writings. He has filled a large place in the theological and literary world, for the last thirty years. In a country distinguished above all others for literary competition and accomplished scholarship, most of his works have reached and have kept a very high rank. He had just lived to complete his Commentary on the Apocalypse, the third edition of his Commentary on the Acts, and the fifth edition of his Introduction to the New Testament. The Preface to his Commentary on the Apocalypse, has melancholy forebodings in regard to the religious state of his native land, and intimations of what, it has been hoped, was a firmer personal faith in the Saviour.

The last production of his pen, we presume, is an article of forty pages, in the third number of the Studien und Kritiken for 1849, on the Doctrine respecting Sin, with reference to the work of Julius Müller. As we have given an abstract of this treatise, see B. S. v. 499, vi. 247, we here subjoin a slight outline of the remarks of De Wette.

De Wette's remarks refer chiefly to that part of Müller's book in which he endeavors to refute the so-called sensuous theory of the origin of sin. He begins with an examination of the exegetical grounds on which Müller combats the theory that sin originates in man's sensuous nature. This theory, as so expressed, De Wette also rejects, but he does not agree with Miller in his interpretation of σάρξ, σῶμα, and πνεῦμα. Müller denies that σngs, in contrast with oua, denotes the sensuous nature of man, with its essential desires and impulses, its sensations of pleasure and pain, but maintains that, as used by the apostle Paul, it means in general that operative principle of human nature which sets itself in opposition to God and his holy law. De Wette maintains that Paul always does mean by σugs the organic sensuous nature; and that, when he speaks of it in an ethical relation, he has in mind our sensuous nature, as corrupted and disordered by the fall of Adam.

Dr. Müller's view of the origin of sin is entirely independent of any such distinction in human nature as may have been designated by the words σάs and лvεμа. De Wette thinks that the origin of sin may be made intelligible by reference to such a distinction. The will, which should have followed the law written in its own nature, has suffered itself to be determined by the impulses of the sensuous nature, which have thereby become inordinate. Not in the sensuous nature and its impulses is the origin of sin, but in the will, which has yielded to them; and though in human nature, as now constituted, the sensuous part has become a far more formidable and destructive power than it originally was, yet the rationale of sin remains the same as before. The will, as well as the entire spiritual nature of man, is moved upon by sensuous excitement. This excitement, however, the will should not let itself be determined by, but should make its decisions according to the law of conscience. Does it the former? this is sin. Müller objects to the sensuous theory, that it regards only one kind of phenomena of evil, in which to be sure, at first view, sin appears as the predominance of the sensuous over the spiritual, or as sensuality, but that it leaves out of sight manifold manifestations of sin which arise from pride, or the love of glory. He asks, What have the passions of ambition, envy, or malice, to do with our sensuous nature? Here De Wette thinks Müller is mistaken in his psychology, and remarks that the observation of animals, of children, or of rude, uncultivated men, should have taught him that these very manifestations of the selfish prin

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De Wette's Criticism on Müller.

799

ciple are most commonly connected with the grossest sensuality. Often, indeed, the love of fame may induce a man to forego many a gratification of bodily sense, but still as a passion it is something sensuous, having its seat in our psychical or inner sensuous nature.

The chief fault De Wette finds with Müller is, that he follows too much the laws of abstract logic, and does not sufficiently regard the simple facts of consciousness. For example, instead of being satisfied with the simple fact of consciousness we are free, he sets up an abstract idea of freedom, which he regards as necessary to the possibility of sin, and for which there is no corresponding reality in human experience. He is therefore driven to the assumption that the personal will had this freedom in a state of being preceding our existence in time. His inquiries respecting the relation of human freedom to the Divine omniscience and Divine omnipotence, though conducted with much care, are inadmissible in their nature, and could offer themselves only in the way of a false abstract speculation. If I have done anything which I impute to myself as sin, I confess at once that I have acted contrary to the will of God, and bow myself penitently before him; but I do not ask, why he did not hinder me from doing it, and so I avoid bringing human freedom and Divine omnipotence into any relation to each other. If I see another do what I know to be sinful, and impute to him as such (which sentence, however, is never sure), I indeed think of God only in this respect, that thereby his holy will has been violated; and if I see many destructive consequences resulting therefrom, and perhaps threatening disaster to institutions dear to myself and well pleasing to God, I will not ask, why God has permitted all this evil, for that would be unholy complaining and presumptuous cavilling, and therefore no suitable subject for philosophical or dogmatic investigation; but I would take refuge in the feeling of submission. This, to be sure, I must so interpret to my understanding that, even that which I regard as evil has, in some way, come to pass by God's will; for only in this thought can I find rest. I will even regard an obstinately wicked disposition as ordained or produced by God; because, otherwise, I could not quiet my heart respecting it; but since I regard the hardened one as guilty and deserving of punishment, I ascribe his wickedness not to God, but to his own perverse will, and so limit the Divine efficiency to the outward relations and circumstances. On the other hand, if anything good has been done by me, I will not, with proud self-complacency, recognize my own free act, but will give credit to favorable circumstances, favorable influence, and especially to Divine assistance. In relation to the good which I seek after, I know myself entirely dependent upon God, and wish nothing more than to be led and supported by his Spirit and his Power.

De Wette closes his essay with lamenting that the author did not devote