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and leaven, he considered the great business of his own life. On the following Monday, the Sih of July, he delivered his last lecture, in the midst of severe pains from an attack of something like cholera, so that his voice several times failed, and he was scarcely avle with the help of some of the students to come down the steps of the rostrum. But notwithstanding this, im. mediately after dinner which he hardly touched, he set himself again to dictating for the last volume of his Church History, which was to describe the close of the Middle Ages and the preparation for the Reformation, until nature violently kept down asserled in the end her rights, and fastened him to his bed. Then he had his last and severest vial to endure, in ceasing to work for the kingdom of God, which had always been his life and highest joy. Several times indeed he wanted to gather himself up again, and to put force on his sinking body, and be came almost impatient when the physician refused to allow it. But his affectionate sister now reminded him of what he used to say to her in sickness, to engage her submission to medical judgment: “It comes from God--therefore must we suit ourselves to it cheerfully.” Calmed at once, and as it were ashamed, he replied: "That is true, dear Hannah, it all comes from God, and we must thank him for it.” So formerly the great bishop, Chrysostoin, whose life and deeds Neander had delighted 10 portray, expired in banishment with the exclamation, God be praised for all !” Sill however only a few hours before his dissolation, on Saturday afternoon, the father of modern church history” once more collected his strength, and taking up the thread of his unfinished work just where he had left off before, dictated a description of the differences among the so-called Friends of God,” those remarkable German Mystics of the 14th and 15th centuries, who with so many other revelations of that transition period, not unlike our own, prepared the way both negatively and positively for the Reformation and its Protestant results. After this worthy conclusion of his literary activity, about half past nine o'clock, he longed for rest, and in a sort of half dream, as at the end of a foilsome journey, addressed his sister with the significant words : " I am weary, let us go home!” When the bed had been put in order by a friendly hand for his last slumber, he threw the whole tenderness and affection of his nature once again into a scarcely audible " Good night ;” slept then for four hours, breathing always more softly and slowly; and with the morning of the Lord's day, on what is styled in the church year the Sunday of Refreshing, awoke in the morning of eternity among the spirits of the just made persect. There,
in the midst of his favorite kindred minds, Melancıhon, Bernard, Anselin, Chrysostom, Augustine, and Si. John, he rests now from all labor, in blissful joy, on the breast of him whom not having seen he here loved, feasting his eyes with that glory of which all earthly beauty is but a dim shadow.
But as for us, who remain bound to the earth and are called to work and wrestle still amid the tumultuating growing confu- . sion of the church militant, we can only pray in humility that it may please the Lord soon to bring in That Johanncan Age, of which the sainted Neander, the “ Præceptor Germaniæ" so osten prophetically spoke, the age of love, of peace, in which all the past contradictions of the Church shail be reduced to harmony and order, when every knee in heaven or on earth or under the earth shall bow to him, and all who love Christ shall join with one heart and mouth in praising the Triune God.
It will be perceived that this very imperfect sketch rests upon something niore than a mere literary inierest in Neander. The writer did not belong indeed to the more intimate circle of his disciples and followers. When my acquaintance with him commenced, I had already nearly completed my theological studies, under wholly different influences in part, at 'Í'übingen and Halle, and my altendance on his lectures was limited to the third part simply of his course in church history, reaching from the Reformation down to the present time. The relation bəsides in which I stood to speculative theology and church orthodoxy, was 11ot exactly what he could approve. The first I then held, and still hold, to be highly necessary, for the full solution of certain great problems of the present time, particularly the christological question, or at least for bringing them nearer to their final solution; the second I regard not inerely as a barrier to the destructive tendencies of unbelief, but as a wholesome counterpoise also to that onesided subjectivity, which is the fault of our mod.
ern Protestantism generally. If the later evangelical theology • then, among whose founders Schleiermacher must be allowed
at least to hold a prominent place, is ever 10 accomplish its mission, it may never renounce connection with the faith of the fathers, and it must show itself also in the widest sense practical and churchly; that is it must lead to a new construction of the general life of the Church, in which shall be happily united and preserved the results of all earlier history, the bloom and fruit of the past both Protestant and Catholic. Nothwithstanding these differences however, which touch not indeed the substance of chris
tian faith, Neander always treated me, as a student, and in the
“ MY DEAR FRIEND:
“ I can only return you my hearty thanks for the testimony you publicly offer me of your affectionate remembrance, and for the honor you propose to show me,
whilst I desire for you in your work all illumination and strength from on high.
“As regards your Journal, I believe something of it through your kindness has reached me, for which you have my hearty thanks. It is well, that you have reminded me of it. I may now easily forget anything, and let it lie unused, as I can read only through other people's eyes, having suffered for two years past from the consequences of a paralysis settled in my own.
“I had intended io send you along with this letter something new of my publications; but it is now omilled, as it just so happens that all my copies have already been given away. If the good Loid had not visited me with weakness in my eyes, I would have had the pleasure long since of being able to send you a new volume of the Church History as far as to the Refurination, and perhaps by this time even the history of the Reformation itself.
“What men called freedom in our poor fatherland, during the mournful year 1818, is something very different from what is sought and meant by the spirit wbich has been born from the best English piety in your America. It was a conflict here between atheism and Christianity, between vandalism and true civilization. Even many years ago I predicted, that the philosophy of onesided logic, intellectual fanaticism and self deification, must lead 10 this proper consequence of its fictions, as by their popularization has now come to pass. Not as though this philosophy alone were in fault; but it was the most strictly consequent scientific expression of the reigning spirit of ihe age and its tendency. Nor will I deny that there are true wants also at hand in the spirit of the age, and that nothing short of their satisfaction, which the gospel alone has power to secure, can bring any Jasting relief. We stand on the brink of an abyss, the downfall of the old European culture, or else on the confines of a new moral creation, to be ushered in through manifold storms, another grand act in the world-transforming process of Christianity. In the mercy of a long-suffering God we will hope for the last.
"Praying that God's richest blessing may rest on your family, on your work and all that pertains to you, I remain
'Twixt leafy boughs of oaks, which bending threw
From their wide skirts into a narrow dell
On a fair flower, a lovelier never grew,
Or like the Naiad of the silver brook
Or like a statue of the Fairy Queen;
Lifts gently its fair head, and see below
A maid perchance there is, who lives to please
Pity it were if she would die a nun.
From this high hill as sinks the sun behind
Yon mountain-ridge, and solemn night descends
The veil that hides infinity, my mind
In such a temple olden prophets bowed
Sick of their blindness and perpetual woes,
By Hesperus attended, slow withdrew,
Nor sprites, nor eyes of fire, nor cchoing tune
The troops of evil durst not show thcir face.
T. C. P.