sorrow. Neander was the last of the theologians whom, when young men, Frederick William III. had invited to make and establish a reputation for his infant University at Berlin. Schleiermacher, the eldest, and in some sense the teacher of all, Preacher and Christian Philosopher, had first departed. Then Marheineke, less celebrated abroad, yet not less known at home as the exponent of Lutheran doctrine. Prussia, in the days of flourishing despotism, had cast out De Wette, whose deep and various learning had conquered the whole domain of Biblical Criticism, and in 1849 he died at Basle: having more than once refused to quit a city which had sheltered him in his adversity, for an ungrateful mother country. And now Neander, the Historian of the Church, had soon followed his old colleague-and it was felt that the theological faculty of Berlin was wholly dependent for its reputation on the talent, the learning, and the piety of another generation. The important influence of individual professors, on the well-being of a University, can hardly be understood from the analogy of English Life. The death or removal of its best mathematical teachers would not lessen the number of students at Cambridge: nor would Oxford fail if all her professors were simultaneously to migrate to the University of London. There is too little competition in England for a University to undergo many variations of prosperity. But in Germany, where almost every capital of every petty principality boasts its HighSchool: and where the complicated machinery of private tuition, which serves to sustain at an equal level, the general character of a place of education, is unknown-a celebrated Professor draws after him, wherever he goes, a crowd of students. They do not expect the personal attention which a tutor at Oxford, or a Professor in University College, London, devotes to the capabilities and defects of each member of his class. Their object is to listen to the men most celebrated in each particular branch of science. And while an Englishman would look for such in the church, at the bar, or at all events not in University Lecture-rooms, the German knows that they will almost invariably be found employed, really or ostensibly, in the work of tuition. A Rückert may read a lecture every third year, and report himself absent the other two: a Lepsius may spend session after session in Egypt, while his name still graces the list of professors, but their nominal connection with the University is the pretext for a state pension under the name of salary. And thus while a Professor of talent and reputation commands a full audience like an Athenæum or Mechanics' Institute Lecturer with us, it is not to be wondered at that the labours of a teacher like Neander, whose learning had won him an European reputation, whose writings were read wherever Church History was studied, who had no equal in the conscientiousness with which he discharged his public duties, or in the unwearied kindness which characterized his private intercourse with his pupils,—should be intimately bound up with the success and reputation of the theological teaching in his University. We shall endeavour, in the following pages, to describe him as presenting almost the whole characteristics of a Christian Teacher. Johann August Wilhelm Neander was born at Göttingen, January 16th, 1789. His parents were Jews, and educated their son in their own religious principles. When he was very young,. they removed to Hamburg-a city which Neander always regarded as his home, and to the excellent institutions of which he was indebted for great part of his education. As his relations were wretchedly poor, and had great difficulty in providing for his support at College, even according to the very moderate scale of a German student's expenses, we may conclude that most of his early training was gratuitous. In his sixteenth year, he was converted to Christianity, and proceeded to study first at Halle, and afterwards at Göttingen. Of his University life we know little. His physical disadvantages, combined with his sensitive modesty, made him shy-but he bore the reputation of great learning, and piety, rare in one so young. An anecdote of this period of his life, is so characteristic of the man of whom the youth was father, that we cannot forbear to narrate it. Neander was, as we have said, very poor-nor let the idea of a poor student be a sizarship at an English University, or a lodging in London, with the smallest possible share of English comforts. Goethe, in his "Dichtung und Wahrheit," tells of a student who went to bed at dusk, because he could not afford lamp oil and we have ourselves known one, who, when he could no longer endure the intense cold of a German winter, did the same, because unable to pay for a fire. Such instances are not uncommon: as is proved by the fact, that the young Neander suffering thus, found a student so much poorer than himself as to be in actual danger of starvation. It was discovered not long afteraccidentally, for Neander would never have revealed itthat he had divided his scanty store with his absolutely penniless acquaintance, and that both had lived for six weeks on bread and water only. It is such quiet heroism of self-denial as this, which the "Father who seeth in secret" will one day openly reward. From Göttingen he returned to Hamburg, where he resided for a short time. But in 1811 he removed to Heidelberg, and occupied himself in writing his first work, "The Emperor Julian and his Age," published at Leipzic in 1812. It was now at once seen that he possessed no ordinary talent for the study of Ecclesiastical History. In the same year he was appointed Extraordinary Professor of Theology at Heidelberg, and invited after a few months to become Ordinary Professor in the same faculty, in the infant University of Berlin: where he laboured assiduously and successfully for 38 years. His life, during that period, is void of all events, save the successive publication of his very numerous works, and the steady growth of his reputation. It was free even from those domestic vicissitudesby which most men reckon up their joys and sorrowsfor he never married. His sister-who was old enough to have watched over him when young, and still survives to lament her irreparable loss-tended him with unwearied love, and exercised an influence over him, compounded of reverence for his virtues and talent, and of authority arising from her superior knowledge of the world, which perhaps no wife could have successfully assumed. And thus, like Elia and his sister Bridget, they lived together in uninterrupted harmony: and like them, too, commanded universal respect on the score of their mutual love, and their simple and gentle kindliness to others. There are stories enough of the annoyances to which the wives of literary men have subjected their husbands; of the cavalier predilections of Milton's first wife, and the follies of Dryden's aristocratic helpmate-but the theological world has reason to thank the sister of Neander, that she never sought to deter her brother from the life of literary quiet, where he achieved so much distinction, by drawing him, for her own gratification, into the round of social pleasures for which he was singularly ill fitted by nature and habit. Yet these thirty-eight years of deep diving into the Fathers, and exploring old libraries, and writing Church History, and exposition of Scripture-though affording little to relate in detail, were laborious enough, and not without result. To this a goodly range of octavos on very many periods of Christian History-from the Life of Christ to the Life of St. Bernard: pamphlets and monographs of every variety of subject difficult of enumeration: daily lectures on every conceivable Theological topicPhilosophy, Doctrine, History, Biblical Criticism: and the numberless hearts he won-hearts now mourning his loss all over Germany and England and America-abundantly testify. Indeed a chief characteristic of the man, was his capacity for continuous labour. Work was an essential part of his religious faith and practice. It is true, his whole soul was in his vocation, and, therefore, toil was delightful to him. This characteristic manifested itself not only in the magnitude of his literary achievements, but even more in his daily habits and conduct. The students remarked that Neander was somewhat of a hard masterfor he conceived himself wanting to his duty, if he availed himself of even the most valid excuse to omit a lecture, short of absolute necessity. In a German University a Lecturer does not hold himself very strictly bound by the legal definition of the length of a session, but Neander's holydays were always shorter than those of any one else. The latter part of his life was full of touching examples of this characteristic. When worn by disease, and so far blind, as to be unable to write more than his name, he dictated Popular Expositions of the Epistles for the periodical which stands at the head of this Article, and which was conducted by one of his pupils. When attacked by his last illness he persisted in his usual labours, and answered the expostulations of his sister with an impatience very strange to his usually saintlike temper :-"Leave me alone. Cannot every day labourer work when he will, and wilt thou not let me do the same?" When, on the same night, his physician had pronounced the symptoms highly dangerous-he was with difficulty persuaded to issue a notice for the suspension of his lectures, and then limited the suspension to a day. Even at last, when his mental powers were impaired, he fancied himself in the University, and commenced a lecture on New Testament Exegesis: then called for paper that he might commit to writing the subjects of his lectures in the ensuing session-and finally, dictated for some time a portion of his unfinished History, taking up the subject where he had left it a few days before, and carrying it forward in a regular connection of ideas, to the end of a chapter. Then, with the words, "I am weary, and will go to sleep; good night," he fell asleep indeed. Was there ever a more touchingly characteristic close to a life of conscientious labour? The Christian Soldier died in harness. This conscientiousness was no where more strikingly exhibited than in the performance of his University duties. As we have before said, a connection with a University is an object of ambition to the German man of letters, as giving him a position in the world, and a fixed though often small income. This once obtained, many of them, and especially men of literary celebrity, are content to perform merely routine duties: to read year after year the same courses of lectures, and employ the leisure thus gained to extending and establishing their reputation. If that reputation be but wide enough, they will be sure of full classes, even though-as we know to be true of a distinguished living scholar-sons should hear the lectures their fathers heard before them. The case was widely different with Neander. He did indeed regularly go through, in a fixed number of courses, the whole subject of Church history. But this was only a small portion of his public labours. He devoted fully as much time to other theological topics-perhaps with a preference for Christian Morals, and the Exposition of the New Testament. Nor did these latter prelections form part of any cycle: at least, if so, the cycle was so large, that observing students never discovered the law of their recurrence. He seemed to consider Theological Education as his chief work, and first duty and thus, whatever : |