freiheit. However, it led me to lay down for myself the maxim: Never pass criticisms, unless you know whom you are addressing.

a professor. He is full of life, easy to approach, and a special favorite among the students. He is like an American professor, in this, that he knows something of everything. I have heard him talk on astronomy, philosophy, physics, and chemistry; and he is evidently posted on all these subjects. On the other hand, he is just as thorough and

in accordance with the usual custom, devote their whole lifetime to the study of one subject. Of all the men I have heard he is the only one who is able to dictate without weakening the moulding influence which it is the teacher's duty to exert upon the pupil. Schleiermacher used to say: "The professor, who dictates sentences into the pen of his hearers, thereby arrogates unto himself the privilege of ignoring the Art of Printing." Kahnis may be said to succeed in spite of this habit. What he dictates gives but a skeleton of the sub

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Perhaps the greatest of living scholars in the Exegesis of the Old Testament is Professor Delitzsch. When I called on him the first time, he was reclining on his sofa, with his hat and overcoat on, apparently out of breath. On read-learned as any of his countrymen, who, ing the card of introduction which Professor Weizsacker, of Tübingen had given me, (in Germany letters of introduction are not customary) he exclaimed: "Another American." The tone in which he said this made me think that Americans were bothering him over much. I stated what course of lectures I expected to hear from him. He replied in a very sad tone of voice: "A trouble with my throat will prevent me from delivering all the lectures which I had announced." He also remarked that he had just come from Halle, and felt very tired. However, he soon bright-ject; the flesh and blood is added in his ened up, began to speak English, and showed that a learned man can be a jolly good fellow without losing his dignity. A few weeks later an invitation to supper was lying upon my table. It had been brought by his famulus. (Famulus is the name given to the student whom each professor at this University selects to make his announcements and arrange his official intercourse with the students.) On the appointed evening students belonging to three different faculties and representing four nationalities, gathered in his house. One of them had his hair combed back over his head. The Professor walked up to him, looked at him, and said: Echt Assyrisch." The evening was very pleasant. There was no wine on the table, but the beer flowed freely. Indeed, the man who in Germany is unable to drink beer, is to be pitied. He gets into difficulty times without number in his intercourse with the natives. Those who advocate total abstinence find it difficult not to break the pledge. In one case I caught a Good Templar defending the principles of his order over a glass of beer with all the earnestness of an advocate.

The most popular lecturer is Professor Kahnis. He is a stout, well-built man, and looks more like a priest than

subsequent remarks. His eloquence holds the students spellbound, and fills them with life and enthusiasm. He even attracts students enrolled in the other departments. This is so much the more remarkable, because since the late war many of the educated take special delight in showing how little interest they have for religious matters. One evening he was invited by the students to accompany them to one of the clubrooms. After taking his glass of beer he brought out a toast, the substance of which is worth recording: "The most perfect man is he, who combines the wisdom and calmness of age with the energy and vivacity of youth." "But this ideal is one which we cannot fully realize; for in the nature of things we are either old or young. In this respect the professor is fortunate; he always has young men around him. A certain writer says there was no death in Paradise; that the animals always went out quietly when they felt the approach of death. Likewise students, when they begin to grow old, make haste to leave the University. In my young days I saw the philosopher Schelling. He was then a man with beautiful gray hair. The thorn in his flesh was the fear that others might steal his ideas. How glad we theologians would be if people would only try to steal our ideas.'

canted because he feared the inquisition. His remorse became so great that he died from the effects." Several days later he referred to the same thing in one of his lectures. He spoke of the heart-rending scenes occasioned by the violent measures used in the 17th century to suppress Protestantism; how husbands and wives accused each other of having caused them to deny and recant the truth; how the peasants in the fields fell upon their knees, wringing their hands, and calling Heaven to witness that in renouncing their faith they yielded to the violence of power. But of all these he said there was none so terrible as the case of Francisco Spiera. This led me to borrow the above-mentioned book. It contains the original documents as they were lately found in the archives at Venice. Spiera was a lawyer in Cittadella. The Bible and some of Luther's writings fell into his hands. With joy he received the teach

An anecdote is told, showing how absent-minded he is at times. A student came to borrow a book from his library, which, by the way, fills all the available space on the walls of his study. To get the book he had to climb up a ladder. While seeking for it he lighted on another book, which related to a subject he was then investigating. He began to read, and forgot all about the student. At last another student came in, which woke the Professor from his reverie to find that he had been reading nearly half an hour. On another occasion his wife came into the study and told him what they would have for dinner. It was in the Summer; the door remained open. After a considerable time she passed the door and heard him repeating to himself what she had told him, just as a boy does when on his way to a store to avoid forgetting what he is to buy. On looking in she found him busy at his work; he was unconscious of what he was saying and unconscious of herings of the great Reformer; zealously presence. It seems there is no end to the eccentricities of German professors. The most dignified man in the theological faculty is Dr. Luthhardt. His temperament is decidedly phlegmatic; he has little to say when the students call upon him. The sharp features of his countenance are an index of a similar intellectual quality, for which he is distinguished. His lectures are always clear, his distinctions often very subtle, and never in a single point does he swerve from the standard of the strictest Lutheran orthodoxy. He is therefore looked upon by his friends as one of the pillars of sound doctrine. It is particularly gratifying to see of what central significance the Person of Christ is for his thinking. I once heard him say: "In our day everything depends upon the position we assign to Christ and the position we take in reference to Him."

On Sunday evening he is in the habit of gathering the students around him. The exercises always close with the reading of a hymn, the Lord's prayer, and a benediction. On one evening a small yellow-covered book was lying upon his table. Pointing to it he said: "As often as I read the life described in that book, the deepest emotions agitate my bosom. It gives the history of a man who received with joy the Gospel as preached by the Reformers, but re

he studied the Scriptures, held meetings in his house, and proclaimed the truth to his fellow-townsmen. It created a wonderful excitement; the people began to despise the confessional, the mass and the sacramental wafer. He was accused and summoned before the inquisition at Venice. On the way thither he passed through the most painful mental and spiritual struggles. But the old Adam gained the victory. He retracted all he had taught. In St. Mark's Cathedral, before thousands of spectators, he read a recantation, which had been prepared by the officers of the inquisition. In his native town he was obliged to do so again. When he returned home conscience began to accuse him; he felt that he had incurred the wrath of Almighty God. He never enjoyed another moment of peace. Despair took possession of his spirit; he fell into the deepest melancholy. His sons and friends took him to the neighboring city of Padua, and called in the most distinguished medical men in the University. They prescribed a purge to remove the gases, which they supposed were arising from his stomach and beclouding his brain. When he heard their advice, he exclaimed: "Poor mortals, how ignorant you are! Do you really think I suffer from a malady which can be cured by drugs or human skill? Believe me, another

Stilling in Search of a Profession. night he stopped at a small village inn.

Pastor Stollbein, the village minister, and son of his father's pastor, showed Stilling much kindness. Him and the village school-master he frequently visYes, my dear friends, tired and sor-ited. One Sunday evening he took tea rowful, for I have had to endure much trouble in my short life."

veling apprentices, at the gate of the city he inquired of a person where the best master tailor lived.

"Take this man to Master Isaac," said the man at the gate to a child. With nimble steps he guided the stranger to a small house in a back street. A slender, cleanly woman was just spread

of his childhood, and in the families of his masters, the people knew nothing of such table politeness. For a while he found little pleasure at table, from fear of committing some blunder and acting the boor. He studied closely the rules of polite society; the rules, too, of this family. Every movement and little point of etiquette he watched and prac-ing the table. After a few friendly words ticed. When by himself in his room, he would even practice in graceful bowing and polite salutations.

the hearts of the children of men, to sanctify every soul. The further one is from God, the more is he estranged from this Spirit. What is your opinion, brother Isaac ?"

Stilling learned with joy that Isaac was in want of a workman. The good housewife pressed him to partake of her With the teaching and the children meal. He was at once put to work. he succeeded very well; but his em- Soon a Christian neighbor came in, and ployer treated him distantly. He had began a familiar conversation with scarcely any time to himself. The Isaac. "I hold," said the neighbor, family was cold and formal. His sup-"that the Spirit of Christ is an everyport was meagre, and his clothing soon where-present power, which worketh in became threadbare. He spent his Sundays drearily in his room, for want of decent garments. He grieved over his folly. Why did he leave his kind friend, Nagel? Now God is punishing him for it. He grew pale and haggard. Once he ventured to church of a Sunday. No one noticed or cared for him. Yes, one, kind-hearted pastor Brück. He saw how sad and homesick he looked, and took him home with him to dinner. In the good man's family the sorrowful youth unburdened his heart, until all in the room wept with him. The man of God spoke kindly and wisely to his guest, and lightened his burdens.

In this icy family he could endure it no longer. For when they saw his clothes wearing out and his external appearance becoming shabby, they showed signs of increasing disrespect. One morning early he left them by stealth. His few threadbare clothes he tied into a small bundle, threw it out a back window, softly passed down stairs and out a back door, and hurried off, he knew not whither. He felt like a fugitive from bondage, so forsaken, yet so free and unshackled. He wandered till noon, when his hunger reminded him that he was without money and friends. Pausing a moment by the wayside he muttered to himself: "Now I have reached the summit of my need and misery. Nothing remains for me but to beg or perish.'

With that a soothing conviction flashed over his mind that he must seek work in a neighboring town. Fortunately he found his scissors and thimble in his pocket. As is customary for tra

"I agree with you. Much depends upon the choice and will of man, whether he is willing to let the Spirit of Christ work in him."

With this Stilling began to weep for joy: "I feel at home, I feel at home," he muttered and sobbed to himself.

The two friends looked at him with astonishment.

"Stilling, what is the matter with you?" asked Isaac.

"O, it is a long time since I heard people speak in this way. And since I see that my lot has fallen among people who love God, my grateful heart must find vent in tears.'

"Are you then a friend of Christ, and of true godliness, too?" inquired Isaac.

"O, yes, with all my heart," said the delighted apprentice.

The neighbor, smiling, said: "Then we have found one brother more," and with that both he and Isaac cordially grasped the hand of Stilling.

Then as now the most of these "Wanderbursche" or traveling apprentices, were a set of rowdies. In the large towns there were hotels or places of entertainment specially designated for them. There they would flock together at nights in large numbers, and indulge after their frivolous fashion, in the wildest revelings. Now they travel more on the cars. Then along every highway groups of three, four, or more, could be