From the Morning Chronicle. PRUSSIA. theatre of civil war, stern necessity might furnish to the rest of Italy. There are limits, however, to an excuse for many of the acts of its government. the forbearance of the western powers, and a wanIt is difficult to blame efforts that were made to ton attack upon an independent and constitutionally prevent the dismemberment of the empire-a result, governed state may lead to something more serious on every ground, to be deprecated by Europe. than a formal protest on their part against reäcImperfect as may be the civilization which a South tionary and lawless aggression. German race has diffused among the Sclavonian populations of the Danube, it is infinitely preferable to Russian dominion; for it is European, and not Asiatic. And the experience of the last few years has sufficiently shown that the different races of the Austrian crown lands, disunited and hostile as they are, could scarcely be brought to form one political community except by the agency of a more civilized or more powerful race. Austrian supremacy in those countries is therefore a European necessity; and though we may severely criticize the means employed, we cannot condemn the determination to preserve, at almost any cost, the hereditary possessions of the house of Hapsburg. But this palliation cannot be pleaded for the conduct of the imperial government in attempting to extend its influence by force over territories not subject to its jurisdiction. Berlin, Feb. 18. THE booksellers of Berlin, whose principal profits are derived from commission agency, have addressed a petition to the Chambers against the projected press law, especially as regards such clauses as immediately affect that portion of their business dependent upon the said agency, which, they declare, will be utterly destroyed should the bill as it now stands be carried into law. According to the proposed law, they are to be made responsible-authors or publishers not being within the jurisdiction of Prussian tribunals-for the contents of all works transmitted to them by the latter for sale. They state that, it being the comThere is, we apprehend, no doubt that at this mon practice of publishers to transmit bales of moment active measures are in contemplation by new publications to the trade throughout Germany, Austria against Switzerland and Piedmont. With with mere nominal lists and trade prices, without regard to the former country, it is stated that the comment or reference to contents, copies to be reother German powers will make common cause turned that are not sold, it may occur that their with the cabinet of Vienna; and it is probable that bales might contain productions liable at any moPrussia is desirous to recover the possession of ment to sudden seizure and prosecution, they being Neufchatel, whilst other German potentates will the while innocent of any illegal intentions or even not be averse to a crusade against a democratic knowledge of the contents, it being impossible for state. A good deal, too, is said about the political them to read all works forwarded to them; or, if refugees whose head-quarters are asserted to be in able to read, competent to decide upon the legality Switzerland. It is possible, indeed, that these or illegality of contents. They say that an à priori exiles are daily becoming more dangerous; yet censorship would be preferable to the hazards of this is not because of the sympathy or support this enactment, as, although it might diminish the which they receive in the Swiss cantons, where amount of works transmitted on sale speculation by they are under the surveillance of the police, but original foreign editors, secure from responsibility, on account of the increasing discontent in the Ger- they at least would not be exposed to risks, and man states. However, the consciousness of a re- should forbidden works be forwarded, their eyes actionary policy generates the fear of revolutionary would be open, and they might once for all refuse propagandism, and consequently the Swiss are, it acceptance. The government, in reply, says, firstis said, to be threatened, if not punished, for offer- ly, that it is not disposed to infringe the constiing an asylum to political criminals; and should tution by reestablishing the censorship; nor could the discussion be confined to the question of the it do so, if so disposed, as regards foreign producrefugees, it is hoped that the French government tions, especially those published in Switzerland, may refuse to interfere on their behalf, in spite of the principal fountain of emission for prejudicial the feelings and recollections of the president. It publications. Secondly, that the productions of the will be well, however, for those who on every press must, indeed, be baneful if bad works are so occasion appeal to the treaty of Vienna and other numerous as to cripple trade by prevention of their acts of international law, to reflect upon the conse- sale. Thirdly, that although commission agents quences which may follow such a flagrant violation may not have time to read, original publishers have of guarantees as that which is meditated with ref- ample time for that purpose; and that the only erence to Switzerland. The demonstration against means of punishing them is by the confiscation of Sardinia is equally indefensible, and not less dan- their speculations. Fourthly, that it is the duty of gerous to the general tranquillity. The only Ital-agents to make themselves acquainted with contents, ian government which is purely national, and which and that the law of all lands, England among the merits the respect of foreigners, has, it seems, pro- number, throws responsibility on printers and pubvoked the resentment of Austria. The Piedmont-lishers-authors not being forthcoming; and that ese have escaped that foreign occupation, in the name of "order," to which the Florentines, the Bolognese, and the Romans, have been forced to submit; and we would at least hope that they are not now to be made the victims of Austrian suspicion. There can be no reason to fear the power of a kingdom so small as Sardinia, especially when its resources have been exhausted by two costly campaigns; and the concentration of troops near the frontier of Piedmont can only be explained as part of the political system which has been applied ignorance of contents may be taken in extenuation, but not justification, for selling and circulating. A check to and safeguard against literary poison is essential; and that although the proposed bill may be capable of amendment, and will be amended, it appears certain that it will pass both houses, and this without detriment to the good literature of the land, or to the interests of those whose trade does not mainly depend on the sale of pernicious productions. From the New York Evening Post. MARTIN FARQUHAR TUPPER, the English poet, landed from the steamer Asia this morning, and has taken lodgings at the Astor House. He has been fortunate enough to make such a passage as Horace wished for Virgil, when he called on the tutelary goddess of Cyprus and the twin stars, brothers of Helen, and the fathers of the winds, to send favorable breezes and restrain all others, until his friend should have landed on the shores of Attica. To one whom the muses visit not only daily but nightly and inspires Easy his unpremeditated dreams, his passage over the vast ocean which divides the old world from the new, and his advent in a strange hemisphere, could hardly fail of suggesting thoughts that voluntary move Harmonious numbers. Here are some of these harmonious numbers, just placed in our hands, inspired by his voyage and arrival in the American waters. The first of these poems, our readers will see, was written this morning, in the New York Bay: A WORD ON ARRIVAL. WRITTEN IN NEW YORK HARBOR, ON BOARD THE ASIA. Not with cold scorn, or ill-dissembled sneer, O friends and brothers, face to face we meet. After long hope and promise many a year, Shall tread your happy shores; my heart and voice Your kindred love shall quicken and shall cheer; While in your greatness shall my soul rejoiceFor you are England's nearest and most dear! Suffer my simple fervors to do good, As one poor pilgrim haply may and can, Who, knit to heaven and earth by gratitude, Speaks from his heart, to touch his brother man. March 14, 1851. MARTIN F. TUPPER. OUR VOYAGE. WRITTEN ON BOARD THE ASIA, BY REQUEST. Count up with me our mercies manifest, That he hath spared us on this prosperous way? • All's well!" Thank God! that thus his ready grace hath heard Our prayers, though few and feeble, truth to tell! II. And, meekly think how many better men THE WIND AT NIGHT. OLD Voices of the night-wind! varying tones, Old voices of the nightwind! ye are come The glimmering twilight of my being's prime, Dear, dewy morning! memories of my homeThat soft green vale that sent me forth to climb These daily steeper, stonier slopes of time. Hunt's Journal. The LIVING AGE is published every Saturday, by E. LITTELL & Co., at the corner of Tremont and Bromfield Streets, Boston. Price 12 cents a number, or six dollars a year in advance. Remittances for any period will be thankfully received and promptly attended to. LITTELL'S LIVING AGE.-No. 361.-19 APRIL, 1851. THE name of Neander is familiar to most of our readers. Many of them, we believe, have already learned to reverence the man, and to appreciate the value of his labors, as the chief author in these times of the development of Church History as a science, and as one of the most influential leaders of the reaction which is going on in Germany in favor of apostolic or spiritual Christianity. He lived in a land where learning is followed and honored as a profession, and where he was accounted one of the most learned of men. In the heat of controversy, the piety of some of his contemporaries, as Hengstenberg and Tholuck, had been held up to frequent ridicule; yet all Germany continued steadily to revere the piety of Neander, as of an Israelite, indeed, in whom was no guile. He shared, till his death, in July last, the honors of the most learned city on the Continent with men like Schelling and Humboldt-the living patriarchs of philosophy and science. With all this there were moral elements in the homage paid to Neander which are not to be found in the homage paid to merely intellectual greatness. All his life long he stood aloof from the business and conflicts of the world, and, indeed, had no aptitude for mingling in its affairs. His world was his study, and his companions were his books; and thus he maintained, during a long career, the character of the student, with something of the habits of the recluse. His life began with the storms of the first French Revolution, and it has closed amidst the struggles of that fierce democracy which has now, as then, proclaimed war against society and the Christian Church. Neander's researches into the history of the past did not keep him from obtaining a minute acquaintance with all VOL. XXIX. 7 CCCLXI. LIVING AGE. the great movements of his own age, both in the Church and in the world. At the same time, the very circumstance of his singularly retired and peaceful life enabled him to exercise the greater sway over the thinking and active Christianity of Germany. The teaching and Christian life, of which he is the type, have already begun to influence the churches of Great Britain, and must continue to impart a healthful vigor to their system in doctrine and practice. In this belief we proceed, after a few personal notices, to give some account of his literary labors. Johann August Wilhelm Neander was born in Göttingen on the 16th January, 1789. His parents were poor, and belonged to the Jewish faith. He received the first elements of education in Hamburg, where Judaism has long retained a firm footing, and where the Christian religion was long disgraced by the worst rationalism of the pulpit and the press. He entered the University of Halle in 1806, when Schleiermacher lent it the lustre of his name and influence. He became Professor in Heidelberg in 1811, and in 1813 hegan his course as Professor of Theology in the University of Berlin, where he continued to labor till his death. It is recorded of him, when previously a student at Halle, under Vater, that the first circumstance which brought him prominently into notice was his answering a question in Church history which had puzzled the whole class. This he did in such a way as at once. to reveal his hidden powers, and to make him a. favorite with the professor and the students. Nean-der is one of the many illustrious men who have been successively brought by the government of Prussia to Berlin, that centre of German scholarship and intellectual life. The Prussian capital. has fewer natural_attractions than any other great. European city. It has, besides, few historical associations beyond the days of Frederick the Great; and yet the collective fame of these men, and their influence on the researches or controversies of the day, have given it much of the interest which at-tached to ancient Athens with its schools of learning.. The personal history of Neander is an impressive illustration of the truth of Christianity, and an instance of its divine power. He himself assures us that he had to grope his way from the venerable ritual of ancient Judaism onward to the visions of the Platonic philosophy, until he at last found repose in the doctrines and the death of Jesus of Nazareth. We accordingly see him wandering at first among the types and symbols and prophetic utterances of the Jewish Church, then seeking relief in the schools of the world's philosophy, and finally retracing his steps to discover the pathway of truth, in following the faith of his childhood to its glorious issue in Christ. Here he found the symbolical language of Judaism deciphered, while at the same time he found that his spiritual wants were satisfied, and that a practical solution was given to the mysteries of a world of sin and death. With a nature so earnest as his, he must from the first have been impressed with the representations given in the Old Testament Scriptures of the holiness of God and the guilt of man, and the need of reconciliation between the sinner and the eternal Judge. These meditations must have fostered in him that spirit of moral thoughtfulness which Arnold somewhere speaks of as the leading element in all true greatness of character. While scepticism, disjoined from a pure life, may keep the heart forever away from religious truth, as in the case of men like Voltaire or Byron, all true earnestness of thought and purpose is in the direction of the Cross as its final landing-place. We see, in the spiritual history of men like Neander, and Chalmers, and Foster, and Arnold, that truth and holiness bear a family likeness, having the same heavenly ancestry, and bringing the same dowry of eternal life. The examples of men like these, in their search for truth, form an impressive testimony to the divinity of that faith in which knowledge becomes one with life, and the highest soarings of man's reason harmonize with the deepest experiences of his soul. ters of conventionalism never entered his mind. His world was not that of vulgar show or fashion, but of moral aims and the divine life. Beyond the circle of his study and of private friendship, Neander was chiefly known at the University, and here he was abundant in labors. Each day he was occupied in carrying on two, and occasionally three, courses of lectures in Church History, or the exegesis of the New Testament, or Dogmatic Theology, or Christian Ethics; and these lectures were delivered extempore, though with the accuracy of his elaborate writing. His constitution, even when a student, was naturally delicate; and the wonder to every one was, how he could go through so much academical labor, in combination with the constant claims of authorship. He was the idol of the students, who indeed bore to him not merely a chivalrous homage as a singularly learned man, but a filial veneration as a master and prince of Israel. His house was the place of meeting for many talented and devoted young men, who looked up to him as their religious teacher and friend, and who rejoiced to aid him in his literary labors. Few social entertainments could have more interest than the weekly meetings between Neander and parties of his students-called in German University language Kränzchen. They were held in his study, on every side of which lay in confusion the folios of the Greek and Latin fathers. Tea was served in the most simple style; and was followed by conversation on the religious questions of the day, or the character of new theological works, or on the prospects of the Church generally in different parts of the world. It was at such times that the unaffected sincerity of the man appeared, and that without restraint he drew from the treasures of his learning, or gave utterance to the holy longings of his soul. Nothing could exceed the kind Before proceeding to speak of Neander as an author, we must present a picture of him as a man. It may surprise some to be told of his personal appearance. One might often pass him in the streets of Berlin, and little dream that the grotesque figure, so ill-favored and oddly attired, and so seemingly heedless of the whole outer world, was the greatest living church-historian, and one of the chief leaders of the mind of Germany. Nature certainly did not lavish on his person many of her graces, and art seemed to undo the little that nature had done. His features bore the mark of the most ungainly Jewish type; while his dress was not unlike that of a well-known tribe of his Jewish brethren, the dealers in old clothes in the back-lanes of London. No one who ever saw him in his class-room can forget the place or the man. There he stood behind a table nearly as high as himself, with his sunken eyes all but closed, or twinkling below his shaggy eye-brows, and withness of the old man's heart as shown in this interhis thick black hair covering the greater part of his course; and never certainly did any professor ample brow. He wore a long surtout carelessly exercise a more healthful moral influence over his buttoned over a spotted vest, with outside boots students. He manifested a hearty sympathy with which reached nearly to his knees. Such was the them in the struggles of the faith, and in all that bizarre figure that, to the stranger's surprise, en- concerned their spiritual welfare. His whole soul tered the class-room, itself the largest in the Uni- was engrossed with the cause of Christ and of versity. His eyes were either half-closed or fixed Christ's Church, and his table-talk bore the marks on the desk before him, and, on taking his place, he of the great theme which was habitually in his seized a pen which lay ready for his use. This mind. The homage paid to him by the students pen he would twist and tear to pieces during the was particularly evinced on the anniversaries of his lecture; and at intervals, as some weighty utter- birth, when they honored him, after the German ance made him raise his sonorous voice, he would fashion, with a torch-procession at night-fall. turn to his right side, and lift up both his hands in These occasions he uniformly signalized by thankthe air as in the attitude of a frantic dervish. During God for sparing his life, by expressing his ing these different actions of the upper part of the hearty interest in the work of his professorship, body, one foot was placed upon the other, or when and his unshaken confidence in the final triumph he became more animated, it was made to swing of Christ's truth over all the forms of false philosround with considerable force and strike the wall ophy or the world's inveterate sin. Never have behind. Occasionally the pen which he held in his we heard anything more solemn or heart-stirring hand would fall over the side of the desk, to the than one of those birth-day addresses, delivered great amusement of the class. When this hap- from the open window of his house, while the stupened, he became disconcerted for a moment; then dents were assembled in his rooms or were standbegan to manipulate with one of his fingers in a ing in the court below. like way, until some student sitting near him supplied him with another pen, when the same round of movements went on as strangely as before. In all this there is not the slightest exaggeration; we have given only an imperfect description of the reality. Yet this singularity of manner had nothing in common with that affectation which courts notoriety at the expense of custom or taste. Neander manifested a character of the most guileless simplicity, and a high-souled superiority above everything that is false. The truth is, these mat Neander's private life had few incidents in the ordinary sense in which biographers use the word. He was everywhere the same earnest, humble, tender-hearted man, full of love to his Saviour and his fellow-men. He lived in great happiness with a devoted sister, who was his guide and guardian through the latter years of his life. He seldom went from home, unless when his friends forced him to make some excursion for his health, after the exhausting labors of the university. The writer can testify to having seen his name in the NEANDER. visitor's book, kept in the house at the top of the For the last year or two of his life the strength So much the rather, thou, Celestial Light, It 99 At last his mind began to waver, and, in a somewhat peremptory tone, he ordered the servant to make preparation for his rising from bed. His sister remonstrated with him, by reminding him that all his afflictions came from God, to which the meek sufferer replied, with a subdued voice, and with the return of perfect self-consciousness, "That is true; all this comes from God, and we must thank Him for it." On the afternoon of the Saturday the setting sun shone brilliantly into his chamber, and as if the spirit of a prophet were given him to behold in this material glory the symbol of that true celestial light which was soon to shine on him, he added, "I am weary; let us make ready to go home." Still his thoughts dwelt upon the past; and he fancied himself at his post, engaged in his work as a professor or an author. At one time he raised himself on his pillow and began a lecture on the Exegesis of the New Testament. At another time he asked that a paper, recently given in to the Theological Seminary, should be read. At a third time he intimated the subject of his next course of lectures, "The Gospel of John, considered from its true historical point of view." And after that he dictated an additional sentence or two of his Church History, and closed all his literary labors with these remarkable words: "Thus far in general-afterwards there comes the further development." He then asked the time, and when told that it was half-past nine, he opened his lips for the last time, and said, "I am weary; I will now go to sleep. Good night!" Shortly afterwards the fatal stupor began. He slumbered until about two in the following morning, being Sunday, the 14th of July, 1850, when his spirit joined those holy men whose lives he wrote and whose memories he has embalmed. His last illness was but of short duration. has been truly said that nothing more was needed to make the close of his life holy than that he should continue to live as he had done. He was able to lecture till within a week of his death. He had often given a proof of his academical faithfulness, far beyond what duty required or warranted, by continuing his prelections when he should have been on a sick-bed, and by disregarding the remonstrances of physicians and friends. During his last lecture his deeply impressive voice repeatedly faltered and almost died away. However, with that self-command which he always showed in We know few scenes of death more in harmony trouble, he persevered until the close of the hour, and with the help of some students was removed to with the previous life. We cannot but be struck with his house in a state of extreme exhaustion. On the strength of will which sought to rise above mere being brought thither his strength rallied. In the bodily pain, and with that humble hope in God, course of the afternoon he called his amanuensis which was, with Neander, not a mere general and, with intervals of great weakness and suffering, belief but the very habit and frame of his soul. he calmly dictated for three hours the closing pages The deep hold which his previous studies had of his Church History. He even gently rebuked taken of his mind was seen in this, that when his sister, who sought to dissuade him from the nature sank, and his spirit wandered wildly as in a task, and requested to be allowed still to labor. dream, there was still but one well-marked channel At last oppressed nature sank, and he was com- in which his thoughts could run, and only one pelled, by a higher than human bidding, to give up theme on which he could speak. Perhaps the most the work to which he had dedicated the studies and interesting circumstance of all, is the intention We believe that he labors of a lifetime. In the evening the physicians he expressed of making John's Gospel the subject declared that the case was hopeless. Still he did of this winter's prelections. not anticipate the fatal issue of his illness. The began his academical course by a course of lectures dying man's thoughts were about his academical on this very subject, and he expired with the theme duties, and while admitting that he was unable to on his lips and in his heart. This coincidence lecture, he emphatically added that the delay would is all the more striking because his contemporaries only be for that day, and that he hoped to resume have many times remarked that the fundamental his duties on the morrow. So truly might Nitzsch points of his character were in harmony with those say at his funeral, "Wie innig liebten sich August of John, as the disciple of divine knowledge and Neander und die Theologische Jugend Deutsch-heavenly love. Like John we might say of Neanlands!" On the afternoon of the next day he was der that he leaned on his Master's breast and stood able to hear a passage read from Ritter's Palestine, beside his cross. Unconsciously he thus drew the book with which he was last occupied, and also with his own hand his picture at death. His extracts from the public journals, on which, accord-spiritual history began with a conversion like ing to his custom, he commented with his usual Paul's, and ended with a holy love like that of emphasis. His disease returned at intervals, with John. If any one wishes to be satisfied of this, let occasional paroxysms of suffering, which he endured with the most Christian patience. A long familiarity with sickness had disciplined him for the final struggle. He was deeply affected, however, by the watchful care of his friends, and repeatedly raised his feeble voice to thank them for what they did. him read the different dedications prefixed to his several works, and see how they all breathe forth the language of the purest love to God and man. The announcement he made on his deathbed was all the more remarkable-because the criticism of Germany for years past has been gradually bearing more closely on John's Gospel, as the field on which |