24. Essay on the Life and Writings of Hengstenberg

Essayonthe LifeandWritingsof Hengstenberg BY REV. W. B. POPE, PRINCIPAL OF THE WESLEYAN COLLEGE, DIDSBURY, MANCHESTER

 MORE than a quarter of a century has passed since Hengstenberg’s Commentary on the Psalms opened the present series of translations. From that time until now the “Foreign Theological Library” has given the works of this eminent expositor to the English public with unfailing regularity. Hence no German name is so familiar in England as that of Hengstenberg; certainly none is so thoroughly identified with all that is sound and honest and loyal in German theology. And this prominence among ourselves corresponds very fairly with his prominence on the Continent. In many respects, and in some departments, of which a slight account will be given in these pages, Hengstenberg has been the foremost man in Lutheran Protestantism for nearly a generation. No one has for a long time departed, leaving a more sensible blank, whether in his own country or in ours. And now that his last and posthumous work appears before the English reader, it seems not inappropriate to accompany it by some notice of his life and labours. As a biographical memorial, these pages will be brief and fragmentary, for the simple reason that nothing like a memoir of this eminent man has yet appeared. But, as a tribute to his character, claims, and work, it will aim at least at being complete and faithful,—the uncoloured and honest expression of respect for services which have laid the English theological public under very great obligation.

Ernst Wilhelm Hengstenberg was one of a noble band of men who came in with the present century, and are about this time reaching the term of human life and passing rapidly away. He was born at Fröndenberg, in Westphalia, where his ancestors for several generations, indeed from the fourteenth century downwards, had figured largely and made themselves memorable in the local annals. A line of political Hengstenbergs are found leading the movements of a feudal aristocracy; and these are matched by an equal line of ecclesiastical Hengstenbergs, in unbroken succession, from Canonicus Hengstenberg, who gave his heart and soul to the Reformation, down to the present day. The father of our subject, a man of considerable endowments and large attainments, occupied several pastoral charges, and showed some zeal and energy, especially in the department of education. A firm friend of the Union between the Lutheran and Reformed Churches, he was a theologian rather of the Reformed or Calvinistic than of the Lutheran type; and, moreover, was something of a modern “humanist,” having no very profound convictions on religion, and giving himself up very much to classical literature. The son of such a father had the ministry always kept before his view, was trained in the Reformed system of doctrine, and received an early bias towards the Union. In the last respect paternal influence was happily neutralized or lost in other and stronger influences, of which more hereafter. A good mother lived long enough to watch over him up to maturity; and this was a special blessing to a youth who began life under the conditions of a diffident nature and an unsound constitution. Until seven years of age the lad was not permitted even to read,—a restraint, however, for which he made swift amends when he fairly began. Almost entirely confined to the room by lameness, he contracted the habit of steady poring diligence in study. From that time to the end of his life he was among his books daily, from five or six o’clock in the morning until eight in the evening, with the exception of about three hours’ intermission. He was accustomed to attribute much of his success to the troubles which inured him to a sedentary life so early, and to the necessity which this imposed of exceeding strictness in exercise and diet. “I have scarcely,” he said to his brother on his deathbed, “during life known for a single day the feeling of perfect health, and have done what I have done simply through having been obliged to keep my body under stern discipline.” This must be taken into account hereafter, when the prodigious amount of his literary labour comes under notice.

Young Hengstenberg was at this early stage comparatively self-taught. His father was in failing health, and left the youth very much to his own resources,—not, however, without watching him and noticing his advancement. “He will be a professor,” he used to say, with more than the usual fond presentiment. He might well indulge the prophetic instinct when such evidences of his son’s diligence met him as the following:—“The astonished and amazed countenance of my father is still before me,” says the same brother, “as he took from my brother’s hands a little honorarium, which he had received from a Leipzic publisher for the translation of a Latin author, I think Aurelius Victor. The manuscript had been at once accepted by that firm, little dreaming that the author had just entered his seventeenth year.” The same authority tells us that his brother Ernst was confirmed by his father in October 1819, and adds some remarks which it is a pleasure to quote. “On the same day was the baptism of his brother Edward, who died at Berlin in 1861 as Consistorial Counsellor. Ernst was his godfather, and watched over his youth, as also over mine, with a tenderness and fidelity the remembrance of which will never be effaced. Piety was a fundamental feature in his character always, especially in relation to his own household, every member of which may say, ‘As he loved his own, he loved them to the end.’ Next day he went to the University of Bonn, and passed his examination with great credit.”

Just at that time the German youth were enthusiastic in their patriotic fury against France, and zeal for the regeneration of the Fatherland. The fruits of that seedtime of Prussian revival the world has lately seen. In Bonn the Burschenschiaft, or confederation of German youth, Hengstenberg joined and co-operated with most heartily; he helped to keep up its dignity, and received from it in return a wholesome preparation for the discipline of public life. He also derived benefit to his health from the diversion thus afforded to his overtaxed mind, and the stimulant to bodily exercise. Meanwhile he pursued his studies with diligence, chiefly in a philosophical and philological direction. Before reaching his twentieth year he had finished a translation of Aristotle’s Metaphysics, as evidence of his success in the former branch. It was in the latter, however, that he was destined to win most distinction; and an edition of an Arabic author, Amrulkeisi Moallakah, in a Latin translation, and illustrated by notes, gave earnest of his success in oriental studies. This was his testimonial essay for the Doctorship of Laws, and proved to all the world that he had not studied under Freytag in vain, and that he would in due time become a high oriental authority himself. Arabic he studied rather as a cognate of the Hebrew, and for the sake of the biblical learning, to which he already began to devote himself. For though not as yet brought under the influence of personal religion, and with only an indefinite idea of consecration to the service of the gospel, he was impelled by a strong instinct to give the first-fruits of his intellectual vigour to the sacred languages. It would not, perhaps, be wrong to say that he was already under the guidance of the good providence which directs the early energies of men who have a great work to do. Hengstenberg’s sphere of labour was to be preeminently the Old Testament; and before his twentieth year he had laid the broad and deep foundations of an eminence in Hebrew, and its kindred dialects, which not even the most learned of his numberless enemies ever despised or disparaged.

One effect of his remarkable success as an oriental editor was the high opinion of Sylvester de Sacy, who recommended him to the Basle Missionary College as every way competent to give instruction in the Eastern languages. Accordingly he removed to Basle, where the Spirit awaited him who leads the sincere student into all truth. Hengstenberg spoke of this period nearly half a century afterwards, when opening his heart to the readers of the Kirchenzeitung, as the time of his conversion and of the beginning of his Christianity. “I had been engaged at Bonn,” he says, “in seeking goodly pearls, but I had not yet found the pearl of great price.” It appears, however, that his theological principles were somewhat in advance of his religious life. For when his tutor, the well-known Professor Brandis, put into his hands Schleiermacher’s new book, the Glaubenslehre, a system of Christian doctrine, he read it with profound interest, but soon returned it with the remark: “I shall not remain what I am; if indeed I did so, I should never be a theologian; but to that man I shall never betake myself.” This shows two things,—first, that the youth was discontented with himself and his own character; and, secondly, that he was able, beyond most of his contemporaries, to sound the depths or the shallows of Schleiermacher’s theology. Considering that he was a mere youth at the time, and had not been very carefully trained in systematic theology when younger, this was a remarkable exhibition of precocity. Schleiermacher was then rising to the height of fame and influence. The book which young Hengstenberg thus threw from him was fascinating almost the whole world of German Protestantism, and literally inaugurating a new era of religious thought. Its influence was destined to divide the old from the new, and not only to stem, but to arrest and turn back, the tide of Rationalism. Had the youth been previously entangled in the snares of the Illuminists, it is probable that he might, like many others, have hailed Schleiermacher as his saviour. But, fortified by a strong and determinate bias towards pietism in sentiment and orthodoxy in creed, he saw only the negative and unreal elements in the new theology of dependence. He perceived plainly, or rather felt, that Schleiermacher’s God was not the triune God in personal manifestations to the human race; that his Christ was an ideal being, who accomplished only an ideal atonement; that in his hands the entire face of theology was changed, and man had become in a wonderful manner the centre of religious truth. He perceived how the subjective spirit of the new Christianity trifled with the objective facts, and was disposed to subordinate the firm external word to the internal consciousness of feeling. It may be gathered that he left Bonn with a rooted conviction of the truth of the Bible as a record of God’s dealings with the human race, and with a full preparation of heart for the reception of those personal influences which the associations of Bâsle would soon bring to bear upon him. In the missionary institution of that place he remained only a short time, but long enough to find what he called “the pearl of great price.” Hengstenberg was not a man given to much self-revelation; and it was at a season of unwonted freedom of spirit, when the approach of the end released his tongue from restraint, that he spoke of this period of his conversion. The details of his call and personal consecration are not at our command; nor do we need them. His whole life bore testimony, clear, consistent, and unvarying, to the reality of his devotion to the Person of Christ,—a devotion which he entered upon at Basle. He became what in Germany was called a Pietist,—what in England would be called an earnest Christian. To this pietistic, fervent, experimental type of religion, the soul of which is the personal relation of the believer to his Lord, he was faithful to the end, notwithstanding some appearances to the contrary. It classed him with bodies of men from whom, as to their doctrine and religious observances, he recoiled with something like aversion. It allied him, for instance, in spirit with Neander, and Tholuck, and Stier, from whom, as evangelical disciples of Schleiermacher, he kept at a doctrinal distance. But to this we shall have to return.

Hengstenberg very soon reached the goal of his ambition and the scene of his long labours, the University of Berlin. This new foundation was fast becoming the glory of Prussia. It had not undergone the usual lot of such institutions, that of a gradual victory over prejudice and attainment of popularity, but took its place at once amongst the foremost factors in modern Christendom. The ministry who had charge of the education of the country, with a wise forethought gave every encouragement to young men of ability wherever found. Hengstenberg was one of those who profited by this patronage. He had obtained a Doctorship in Divinity at Tübingen,—another illustration of precocity, remarkable even in that region of early maturity, reminding us of the youthful veterans of our own universities in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. To attain this degree he must have worked hard in theology, at least in biblical theology, to which he seems to have devoted himself, as soon as his mind became truly Christian, with a concentration that never relaxed. Thus graced, he found his way to Berlin, and underwent the severe ordeals which test the ability of a candidate to become a private teacher of theology. Shortly afterwards, in 1828, he became ordinary Professor, and took the rank and position which he held to the end. Thus we find him, at an age when most of our students are looking out upon life, and pondering their vocation, in the dignity of a teacher of the most difficult science in one of the most important universities of Europe. No sooner was he settled in this post than he became settled in another respect. He married a lady of high birth and connections, who thus contributed materially towards securing his access to high society, and extending his influence among those who would otherwise have been inaccessible. It may be said here that this wife was a most faithful sharer of his joys and sorrows for thirty-two years. His home was in all respects happy, save indeed that Providence disturbed its peace by a succession of bereavements. Though he was left all but childless in later life, his children while spared to him were a source of the purest satisfaction. The fidelity with which he watched over the sons of his own generation entrusted to him was rewarded by the goodness of his own. His family was from the beginning well ordered. In due time his house became one, and not the least favoured, among the many centres in Berlin to which the cultivated in Church and State were attracted. His open hospitality will long be remembered; and still longer his more unostentatious but more influential private receptions of the students, for whom a certain portion of the day was always reserved. In this last respect Professor Hengstenberg was only complying with a familiar and kindly usage in the German universities. How perpetually do we fall in with grateful reminiscences placed on record by students under such men as Olshausen, Stier, Schmid, and especially Tholuck, who did so much by their private and unreserved influence towards reinforcing and confirming the public influence of their Chairs! When Hengstenberg began his public career in Berlin, the aspect of theology, and of religion generally, was very gloomy. The expectations excited some dozen years before by the fresh tide that had been poured into German thought and life by the war of freedom had been to a great extent disappointed. Sanguine men had hoped that the vulgar rationalism was effectually checked, and that the chastised nation would return to a simpler religious faith. A noble future of sound development was expected for the evangelical Church of Germany. It was thought, moreover, that this development would be greatly assisted by the Union which had been brought about, under the influence of King Frederick William and his ministry, between the Lutheran and the Reformed Confessions. This Union, it is true, had rather been imposed upon the Churches than matured as the growth of healthy tendencies from within; but it was hoped that it would nevertheless be consolidated in due time, and that, as a peace-offering to the tercentenary of the Reformation, it would be accepted of God and approved of men. The result was not what was hoped, though only what might naturally have been expected. The Union increased the division, and gave occasion to the old enemy to blaspheme. Confession waged war with confession. The spirit became manifest which, in Silesia and elsewhere, made Old-Lutheranism resist all attempts to bring it into concert with Calvinism; and the Government, already greatly embarrassed, was beginning to find out that this would be a question of long continuance and of endless difficulty.

Evangelical Germany, divided amidst contradictory opinions, was much less able to resist the common foe of rationalism. The theological schools which began to be fashioned under the influence of Schleiermacher, and which afterwards split into two camps, that of the orthodox and that of the rationalists, had nothing strong and definite enough wherewith to encounter the practised adversary, skilled in the tactics of nearly a century. An internal, and subjective, and ideal religious system was not palpable enough for rough aggression, or even defensive warfare; at any rate, it had not yet put forth its strength, and its Neanders and Tholucks were men of might who had not yet found their hands. The orthodox Lutheran confessional divines, who have since done so much to restore systematic theology in Germany, were only beginning to form a consolidated party; and as yet the wonderful Lutheran divines of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries slumbered on the shelves. Meanwhile the rationalists, whether more or less unfriendly to supernaturalism, had the fatal prerogative of the highest learning and the highest places. The old and vulgar rationalism of Röhr and Bretschneider was in the ascendant in some seats of learning. In Halle, eight hundred young divines, the pride and hope of Germany, sat at the feet of Wegscheider and Gesenius, gathering up and surely remembering every word and every argument against traditionalism or the faith, catching the subtle influence of every innuendo and every sally of wit, and receiving into soil only too fruitful the plentiful seed of a no less plentiful harvest. The times seemed very unpropitious. Some hope there was in the pure and earnest godliness which Pietism nurtured in southern Germany, and which found its way, through the influence of individuals, into all the centres of the north. But Pietism was hated most cordially by the leading statesmen of the day, and by the leading professors also. The former were busy with the formularies of worship, but exceedingly anxious to keep out of those formularies the living spirit that would have given them their value. They seemed to have lost sight of the truth that a sound confession, a perfect liturgical service, and an evangelical life breathed into both, and working upon the world by love, make up the notion of the Christian Church. The dignitaries who taught theology were too often thoroughly sceptical as to the fundamental documents on which all depend. The Old and New Testaments were disintegrated; their unity surrendered and broken up into mere collections of literary fragments; criticism played havoc with the text; Rationalism cleared away all the miracles and the mysteries; and a hard and literal grammatical interpretation made the residue harmless to the conscience and the peace. Things seemed to have reached such a pass, that truth and fidelity cried out aloud, and almost in despair, for some champions who could meet the adversary with equal learning and with equal pertinacity. Such champions there were, and the organizations were ready through which they might rally the dispirited forces of evangelical Germany. The Government were to feel their rebukes, and the universities to come under their influence,—slowly, indeed, but surely, as we have since happily proved. Hengstenberg was scarcely firm in his seat before he made it very manifest that he had fixed his decision and taken his definitive place in the great struggle of the day. Though his natural disposition was tranquil, and even phlegmatic,—though his early tastes and predispositions were all in favour of retirement and solitary study,—though the traditions of the office he held would, if followed, have confined him to a continuous course of learned dissertation more adapted to the recluse student than to the arena of public controversy,—yet there was something stronger than all these motives that gave him such an impulse to religious controversy as never relaxed its impetus till his dying day. He became known, as soon as he was known at all, as the acknowledged defender of the documents of Scripture, especially the Old Testament, and the avowed enemy of all temporizing and compromise, whether in the domain of literature, or in the affairs of the University, or m the conduct of the State. This stedfast persistence in one course has scarcely a parallel. It must have been the result of some very powerful influence. That influence, we have no doubt at all, was nothing less than the strong confidence of a deeply religious spirit. No power other than divine grace could have enabled him to hold out so well and so long, through good and through evil report, until his name became the very synonym of desperate fidelity to scriptural truth and the inspiration of the Holy Ghost. Some of his views he changed in the course of a long life, as will be hereafter seen; but in his loyalty to the word of God he never varied. Moreover, the things in which he changed were matters of isolated opinion,—questions which, with regard to the tenor of his life, were subordinate. In the great object of his life—instruction in Scripture— he never wavered. It is true, also, that he did not always maintain the meekness and gentleness of spirit and word that became the defender of divine truth; but his offences were venial when viewed in the light of that strong devotion to what he thought the word and will of God which never knew a stain. The testimony of all who knew him bears this out: that of his foes is reluctantly given, that of his friends most enthusiastically, to the same effect. Dr. Kahnis, one of Hengstenberg’s younger friends and disciples, says: “There can be no manner of doubt that the foundation of Hengstenberg’s theology was the living fellowship with God of a converted Christian.” But this is not saying enough. Many a true-hearted Christian rejoices in divine truth for himself, but leaves others to defend it, or defends it fitfully, and with conciliatory zeal. Hengstenberg had the priceless blessing of a clear and deep conviction. It is impossible to question for a moment that he really believed in what he so resolutely defended, and had a sublime confidence in the literal truth of every portion of the word of God. But it is time to consider distinctly, though briefly, the three departments of apologetic service to Christianity in which Hengstenberg was pre-eminent, and through which he has earned the gratitude of his own age and of posterity. These three were—his professorial chair; his editorship of the Kirchenzeitung; and his defensive and exegetical writings. As professor of theology, Hengstenberg was not distinguished by any remarkable ability; that is, he was not preeminent in the professional qualifications of a lecturer. His teaching was concentrated on biblical theology,—a department which he selected with a wise regard to his own preparations and aptitudes. He was thoroughly equipped with what may be called the instrumental and technical learning that this branch of theology specially requires. He gave continuous courses of lectures on the Old Testament, and on the New, the substance of which, especially so far as concerns the Old Testament, reappeared in his writings. As a lecturer, he had not the charm that attracted multitudes to the feet of some of his compeers. He was very much bound to his manuscript, and dispensed with the advantage of a direct personal address. He never swayed his audience by extemporary eloquence, or established between himself and them the electric current which free colloquy produces, but of which the paper is too often a non-conductor. What he lacked, however, in this respect, was abundantly made up by the indescribable vigour of a profound conviction expressed in unfaltering words. Whatever Hengstenberg was or was not, he knew nothing of vacillation or wavering. He was always decided, and therefore decisive. Wavering judgments he had no place for, either as a lecturer or as a writer. He did not simply guide his pupils on the way towards conviction, and conduct them through a process of investigation, which might or might not end in the determination of truth. He sat in his chair as a teacher, even when his years were immature. And he never changed that character. It may hardly be said that he gathered round him a school. He was not enough of a systematic theologian for that. But he trained, or assisted in training, a number of able men, some of them not much younger, and not much less influential in after years, than himself. Hävernick, Keil, Caspari, Philippi, Schultze, Kahnis, with many others, may be said to have been more or less moulded by him, so far at least as their attitude towards rationalism and their views of the Old Testament theology were concerned. Seated so very young in the chair, many of his own contemporaries, so to speak, were his pupils; and men who are grey-headed speak of Hengstenberg, lately gone, as their master with profound respect.

It has been observed that his house was thrown open daily, and always with perfect freedom of access, to his pupils. There was an hour devoted to them, the benefit of which many now living refer to with gratitude. His nature was affectionate, confiding, and singularly disposed to attend to little details. His knowledge of men and things, growing rapidly as it did in consequence of his editorship and large acquaintance in Berlin, made him a good adviser. His counsel was always at the disposal of those who sought it. Nor was he tenacious as to his prerogatives, or unduly solicitous that his pupils should adhere to his opinions, or take his part in the many controversies in which he was constantly engaged. Though exceedingly impatient of unsettled views, and peremptory in his refusal to encourage discussion for the mere sake of looking at all sides of a question, he was content to let others, even his own pupils, differ from himself, provided they did not diverge from the truth. He allowed a wide latitude so far as concerned agreement with his own judgments, while the line was very sharply drawn so far as it concerned the word and truth of God. He had in this respect his reward. What he sought not was given to him. Few men of this generation have more firmly knit to themselves and to their views the mind and sentiments of others. Some there were, and are, who carried their deference to the master too far, and looked to Hengstenberg’s dicta as their oracles; but a far greater number did no more than justice to his clear teaching. He saved many from sheer infidelity, and many more from the mediating theology, which is little better; indeed, great as were his services in other respects, it is exceedingly probable that in this branch of service he effected his most essential and permanent good. His conversation, as described by those who were familiar with him, was not sparkling or humorous, or even ingenious; no book of table-talk could be constructed from the remembrances of it. His strength was, to repeat the assertion, the transparent honesty of his convictions, and their simplicity. There are a great number of theological teachers in Christendom, and there are many who far surpass Hengstenberg in multifarious learning and literary grace, but there are not many who equal him in pure and perfect belief of what they teach.

Hengstenberg’s most obvious influence on the affairs of his own time, and on its religious tendencies, was exerted through the medium of the Evangelische Kirchenzeitung, a bi-weekly paper which was issued in the interests of Lutheran orthodoxy. This journal was dedicated at the outset to the defence of Christian principles against all kinds of heresies and all kinds of errors. It had no particular mission for or against any particular manifestation of modern thought, but was a champion against all comers from the regions of rationalism, and a watchful asserter of all kinds of neglected truths. It was projected by a band of earnest men, among whom the von Gerlachs and Tholuck were prominent. Hengstenberg, about twenty-five years old, was chosen as the editor. He undertook the service with a generous enthusiasm, and conducted it with a fidelity, that did great honour to him. For forty-two years he was its impulse, director, and leading writer; it was, in fact, his organ, intermediate between the professor’s chair and his expository writings. Through it he spoke to the age in clear tones,—sometimes harsh, sometimes melodious, but always certain and true to the gospel. Rationalism, disguised and undisguised, whether taking the form of infidelity or that of indifference or that of mediation, he pursued with unsparing animosity. He followed it in all its ever-shifting forms, tracked it through its manifold mazes, and encountered it without fear wherever it appeared,—in the court, in the family, in literature, in science, in hymn-books, in catechisms, and the sermons of the day. The journal helped him in his lectures, and the lectures helped him in the journal; thus, material being provided for each, neither suffered from the unusual combination. Those who have been accustomed to see that most venerable of all Protestant journals, will remember Hengstenberg’s annual Vorwort, which, as regularly as the year opened, was looked for by all parties as the oracles of a very different potentate were looked for in France. He spoke as from a throne. “What will Hengstenberg say?” was the common question, on the emergence of every new subject of interest. These Prefaces touched on every imaginable subject: all the struggles of the Union, all the innumerable discussions between Church and State, all the literary phenomena that teemed with every year, found their place in them. A collection of these annual addresses would be the history of the last generation in brief.

It has been said by a not very friendly critic, that Hengstenberg in his journal united the utmost servility to the ruling powers with a spirit of the most demagogical independence. With regard to the former part of the compound his defence is comparatively easy. In the year 1830, soon after the paper began, he published a vigorous article, in which the Government was sharply rebuked for permitting Wegscheider and Gesenius to hold the word of God and the doctrines of the Church up to contempt. In doing this he imperilled his own position in the University, and thus gave no small pledge of his sincerity. What tried him still more was the fact that, by this and similar protests, he exposed himself to the imputation of bigotry, and gradually but surely alienated from himself the fellowship, if not the confidence and respect, of such men as Neander. So far was he from being thought a sycophant or time-server, the parallel between John the Baptist and him—comparing, of course, the greater with the less—was very frequent in the public comments upon his conduct. At a great cost of feeling—for he was naturally disposed to peace and private study—he continued his attacks on all sorts of abuses to the end. He said to his brother on his deathbed: “They thought me a kind of Hercules, always in my element when in wars and difficulties. How little they knew my nature! How often have I longed for rest, as the servant for the shade, or the hireling for the end of the day! But it was my calling to oppose the weak and accommodating spirit of the time.” His testimony to himself is confirmed by the documents that remain, as well as by the evidence of many witnesses, both friendly and adverse. No man of our century spoke so strongly and for so long a series of years against the abuses of the day both in high places and in low. His relation to the Church and State, and to the Union already referred to, will do something to explain both charges. In one sense his vehement devotion to the union between Church and State would tend to give the semblance of courtliness and secularity to his views, while his ardent Lutheranism, especially towards the end of life, made him a cold friend and finally a declared enemy of the other Union between the Lutheran and Reformed Confessions. His sentiments as to the relation between the civil power and the religious were moulded by the Old Testament. He was rooted and grounded in the theory of a Church bound up with and sanctifying the State. With regard to these points it may be said that he was unfaithful to his early self, and that here, though here alone, an exception is found to the law of unchangeableness which governed his life. He was brought up under Reformed influences, but became in the course of years a High Lutheran,—a remarkable change, as they will admit who study the grave differences between the Confessions. His views of the theocracy were fashioned by the Old Testament, and in harmony with Calvin’s, as he experimented with them on the civil estate of Geneva; but he became in due time what, to us at least, appears to have been a servant of the State, and the faithful administrator of its legislation. A Pietist in early life, and an evangelical lover of good men to the end, he nevertheless came to distrust the Union by which Germany has striven to heal the breach of the divided Confession inherited from the Reformation. He would rather have the Lutheran Church in a Lutheran State than the Union which would efface the distinction and exhibit the State as tolerant. Doubtless, if this were the fit occasion, it might be shown that the Union sacrificed principle to peace; that it made the articles of concord too simple and few, especially in regard to the ordination pledges of the ministry; that it compromised too much on both sides to lead to any good result; and that a universal laxity, with the occasional variations of hypocrisy, would necessarily follow. It might be urged that on these accounts Hengstenberg did well to oppose it so strenuously. Suffice that he did oppose it, though without helping in any perceptible measure towards solving the difficulty. He was no reformer, no legislator, no system-framer; he had not the profound sagacity and ready contrivance of an ecclesiastical statesman: and therefore, while the Kirchenzeitung provoked much agitation and helped forward the strife on these questions, it lent no aid towards amendment and reconstruction. It may be said, in passing, that the journal was in his hands until death folded them, and that he left it, with his dying blessing, to another guide of his own selection. He held it to the end as a duty, and said among his last deathbed words, “One of the benefits of heaven is this, that I shall have no more Vorwort to write.” He ended, as he began, in the spirit of duty; and his relation to the Kirchenzeitung is certainly one that has no parallel in journalism, religious or otherwise. No paper has had so long a career in the advocacy of the same interests, and certainly none was ever conducted by the same editor and controller so long. In other respects it was like most others, of various ability, alternately tranquil and stormy, and occasionally offending alike against charity and sound judgment. In the reckoning of Hengstenberg’s life and labour it is certain that the Kirchenzeitung must have a prominent place. But it is as a commentator on Holy Scripture, and defender of the authority of the biblical documents, that this great man will keep his hold on posterity. It is in that capacity that he is known among ourselves. Hengstenberg accomplished a great deal, even in a country where there is an order of men always accomplishing prodigies; and one of the secrets of his enormous amount of work was the unity of his life as spent upon a single subject. He was literally homo unius libri, and of one portion of that book. The Old Testament was his sphere through life. In it he was strong; in any other he was like other men, and inferior to many. In the vindication and exposition of the Old Testament he was in his own day pre-eminent. His earliest discipline pointed that way. Oriental studies engaged his attention long before they are usually entered upon; and the consequence was, that he was fully equipped with the apparatus for a vigorous prosecution of his task before the work of his life began. Thus two errors were avoided,—first, he did not occupy his time and squander his energies in the pursuit of multifarious learning, like some prominent German names of the present day; and, secondly, he did not take up a great subject in middle life, when the specific learning and tastes demanded by it are more difficult of attainment. Of course there were some drawbacks: doubtless his mind was by this concentration somewhat cramped; his New Testament studies were sacrificed to a great extent, as the works written upon it indicate; and his strictly miscellaneous acquirements were perhaps kept within a narrower range than was expedient. But these drawbacks scarcely deserve mention by the side of the great service that he was able to render to the defence and study of the ancient Scriptures. His first work was a bold challenge thrown down in vindication of the authenticity of the books of the Old Testament that were at that time especially contested. Several able and learned dissertations were gathered together and published as Contributions towards the Introduction to the Old Testament. This was mainly an apologetic work. Rationalism had attacked the ancient Scriptures as a whole, and certain portions, such as the Pentateuch, the unity of Isaiah and Zechariah, the authenticity of Daniel. These essays, considering when and by whom they were written, and the wide range and minute character of the learning brought to bear, were very remarkable, and stamped the writer’s fame at once. But it was as a startling vindication that they created the deepest impression. In Germany, much more than in England, the writings of the old economy were surrendered, so to speak, to rationalism. The revival of comparatively sound views, under the stimulating leadership of Schleiermacher, had almost entirely left the Old Testament out of the question, as if it were a hopeless province, inaccessible to light. The general estimate was that Judaism was a monotheistic belief of a people who supposed themselves favoured by Providence; who vaingloriously ascribed their history to a special concentration of the regard of Heaven upon their petty selves; who imagined a descent of the Divinity for the purpose of giving them their laws,—laws which, while they borrowed much from the surrounding nations, were carefully ordered so as to give back nothing in return, but to exclude” the rest of the world from their benefit; who supposed their peculiar religious enthusiasms to be the result of an immediate afflatus of the breath or Spirit of God; who would be content with no lower an authorship for their holy books than that Jehovah Himself, using certain men as His mechanical instruments. Rationalism poured unmeasured contempt on all these pretensions, and undertook to show that the history of the Jews was like every other history in what was good in it, inferior in some respects to some; in fact, that the Hebrew documents could not stand in the judgment when brought to the bar of either criticism, or morals, or history. It was necessary that some one should arise who could exhibit the evidences of authenticity which the texture of the books themselves afford, and which the annals of other peoples suggest in confirmation. Hengstenberg could do this well, and did it. But others were capable of the same service, and had in some sense performed it. What was peculiar to him was the exceeding boldness with which he avowed the unity of the Scriptures, the dependence of the New Testament on the Old, and the absolute necessity of faith in both if faith in either was to be maintained. He saw with clearness the whole compass and fulness of the issues involved. He saw that the stream of revelation must be traced up to its fountain; and that, if the fountain was not pure and divine, no streams issuing from it could be heavenly and undefiled. He saw that the entire literature of religion stands or falls with the early documents which are its elements and alphabet: that if these individual books were not written by the men to whom the later Scriptures ascribed them,—if they do not record facts that are historical,—if the New Testament inspiration is not really an approval and guarantee of an Old Testament inspiration,—if the Scriptures of the old and new covenants contradict each other,—if, in short, there is not a perfect unity in the grand and complete record,—then Christianity is undermined and ready to fall, bringing down with it the hopes of mankind. All this he saw, with perhaps a deeper insight than most men; and if he even exaggerated the expression of the principle, it was a venial fault. It is hard to deny that he was right in staking so much on the genuineness and integrity of the Old Testament. The work of Hengstenberg has surrendered much of its goodly material to other builders, who have made a better use of it than even he did. Hävernick, for instance, one of his pupils, systematized his facts with some skill; and he in his turn has been methodized and set before the public in a perfect form in the Introduction to the Old Testament, published by Keil, one of the noblest representatives of the spirit of the older master. Hengstenberg, as an apologist for the Old Testament, will of course never be obsolete. His works will be read still,—perhaps more than ever, when the supreme importance of the Old Testament comes to be acknowledged as it ought, both in Germany and in England. But it is well known that the ground of attack has since shifted, and that the dissertations referred to exhibit only a partially obsolete aspect of the question. The rationalists of the days of Hengstenberg’s early work were modest in comparison of what they are now. They did not then take the whole Bible to pieces, disturbing all dates, shifting all authorship, and reducing the whole to a constellation of nebulae, if that were possible, the scanty nuclei of which are left to the faith of believers, be their worth what it may. To us it seems that a long age divides us from the time when the most earnest opponents were content to deny the Pentateuch to Moses as a whole, to separate Isaiah and Zechariah into parts, and assign the book of Daniel to a Maccabean date, without denying the historical foundation of the Old Testament as a whole. For the more recent developments of scepticism we need new Hengstenbergs, who will need the same loyalty and concentration, with learning adequate to meet a much more extensive assault. The tendency at the present time seems to be to bring down the books of the Old Testament to one period of wonderful fertility, when a thousand scattered myths and legends and mouldy documents were woven into that amazing fabric by men who suppressed their own names, and thought to honour Jehovah by inventing a series of colloquies between Him and His imaginary servants, extending over many ages, and by declaring that a succession of institutions was founded, and historical events took place, during centuries that knew nothing of them. Such astounding theories as those now broached to account for the historical books of the Jewish legislation have of course some basis of argument to rest upon; in fact, there are a multitude of evidences which by ingenious torture may be made to serve in their defence. The new and rising race of apologists will have to do more than Hengstenberg ever dreamed of doing; but he has, by his integrity, by his happy use of materials gathered from every source and spoiling all kinds of Egyptians, by his skill in directing many lights upon some one dark place until its darkness vanishes, and, above all, by his serene confidence that God was on his side, set a noble example to the younger generation.

We pass to another sphere of service, which, as more permanently important as well as more congenial to the devout student, occupied the greater part of his time,—that of biblical exposition. Here, again, Hengstenberg is a man of the Old Testament,—it may be said, exclusively such; for the books he published on the New Testament, the Commentaries on St. Johns Gospel and the Revelation, were commended to him by their analogies with the old covenant. A writer on Daniel could not fail to feel himself drawn towards the Apocalypse; and it is the peculiarity of Hengstenberg’s Gospel of St. John that it is really an exposition framed on the principle of illustrating the evangelist from the Old Testament. Valuable as these works are in some respects, they do not display the abilities of a master in New Testament exposition. That the author thought differently of them—that is, that he had a higher estimation of their value than of the value of some other of his expository works—says but little. Writers of books of unequal merit are proverbial for reversing their hands, like the patriarch, and laying the right on the wrong, but without any divine sanction for their preference. But of this more hereafter. His most important, ablest, and most influential work is the Christology of the Old Testament, exhibiting, in the second edition especially, with a rich and interesting variety, the Messiah in the Old Testament in the light of the Christ in the New. This was followed by a Commentary on the Psalms, which for a long time was, both in Germany and in the English translation of this Series, the leading book for the preacher’s use, combining in a remarkable way the results of adequate learning in the unfolding of the structure, and the materials of profitable application. A monograph on Balaam and his Prophecies appeared in 1842; then the Canticles and Ecclesiastes; then followed the Commentaries on the Revelation and on St. John’s Gospel. Lately to these has been added a very valuable Exposition of Ezekiel; and, finally, as a posthumous production, the present volumes on the History of the Kingdom of God in the Old Testament.

Various estimates have been formed of Hengstenberg’s value as an expositor of the Old Testament; and estimates must needs vary so long as widely different theories are held of the relation of the New Testament to the Old. He does not in this department exhibit an absolutely unvarying fixedness of principle throughout his life. The earlier editions of his commentaries differ in a very considerable degree from the later in some very important respects,—not, indeed, affecting the evangelical tone of his exposition, but his conception of the relative value of the Old Testament theology. There is a school of evangelical expositors of the ancient covenant in whose judgment Hengstenberg’s views are, or rather were, at an earlier period, too little regulated by the principle of historical development in divine revelation. He was said to have been always too anxious to find everywhere the full truth of divine doctrine, scarcely disguised, and thus to have gone far towards effacing the distinction between the Old Testament and the New. He was also charged with unduly spiritualizing the predictions, and losing sight of the historical bases of events. But there does not seem much ground for these charges, especially as directed against his works when issued in their final form. There can be no doubt that Hofmann’s original and most suggestive volumes on Prophecy and Fulfilment, written on principles diametrically opposed to those of Hengstenberg, had the effect of making him more careful in the realization and exposition of the facts interwoven with all predictions. Nor can it be doubted that the works of another very eminent writer, Oehler, especially his Prolegomena to the Biblical Theology of the Old Testament, influenced considerably his estimate of the progressive character of revelation from Mosaism to Hebraism and prophetism. But Hengstenberg, like all voluminous writers, must be judged by his works in their final form. And the volumes which we now introduce will show that his conception of the Old Testament is distinguished by the very qualities which have been found wanting by his censors,—a comprehensive view of the order and progression of divine truth, and a careful historical sketch of all the dispensations. As to his facility in finding consummate truth in the Old Testament, we should be disposed to hold him to be right where these critics would hold him to be wrong. We believe also that a kingdom of grace and truth has never been absent from the earth; that the divine-human Person of Christ is more conspicuous in the old covenant than most theologians admit. We embrace heartily, against half the world, our expositor’s noble views of the Angel-Logos of the old economy, and of the essential divinity of the Messiah, not obscurely revealed by the prophets, though they did not understand their own revelation. We also think that the Holy Ghost has a history in the Old Testament which is the prelude and the germ, or more than the germ, of His history in the New. In fact, as to the question between Hengstenberg and his very severe critics, we should be drawn by our deepest convictions to side with him, and to wish that he had defended himself more copiously than he did from the assaults of which his exposition was the object.

Hengstenberg was not at any time a systematic theologian, but biblical theology was cultivated by him with great ardour. Biblical theology, however, to be of any service, must be systematized; and here it was that our expositor failed. He was only an expositor, or, if he entered upon the discussion of the doctrines derived from Scripture, it was only in detached essays and monographs. Had he given a few years of his strength to the construction of an Old Testament biblical theology, he might have accomplished one of the most deeply needed tasks of the clay. There is no book that thoroughly exhausts, or even fairly exhibits, the doctrinal system that was gradually completed before the volume of inspiration ended. All that has been done amounts only to what Oehler called his able little book, Prolegomena. The mention of this last name reminds us of the great loss which this branch of theology has sustained in the premature death of this distinguished man, who, like Hengstenberg, has devoted himself ardently to the old covenant. The student who should desire to understand the bearings of the whole subject could not do better than read carefully, in addition to his Prolegomena, his admirable Essays on Prophecy, and kindred subjects connected with the Old Testament, in Herzogs Encyclopedia. If, besides these, he has acquainted himself with Hofmann’s treatises already referred to, he will have a just conception of the wonderful extent, difficulty, and superlative importance of the department of theology which is based upon an exposition of the Old Testament Scriptures. In the New Testament, Hengstenberg selected St. John for his exposition. The Apocalypse he took great delight in, as being an Old Testament prophet, as it were, risen again, and thus a confirmation of the views which guided him in his investigation of the doctrines of the old covenant. He had no doubt that the one evangelist wrote this book and the Gospel, and he set himself to detect and indicate in order the multitude of allusions to the ancient Scriptures which St. John’s works contain. Thus he would make it appear that that apostle, who is generally supposed to have least of the spirit conventionally ascribed to the Old Testament, and to be most evangelical, and tender, and mystical in his tone of mind, dwells more than all others in the ancient circle of ideas. The commentary on the Apocalypse has not secured much acceptance in England. It robs the millennium of its awful meaning for the future, makes it “past already,” having been simultaneous with the thousand years of the German ascendency, a gigantic exhibition of Church and State. Here and throughout the book the author spiritualizes away all that clashes with his great theory of a theocracy already set up among men, and varying in its forms. It is only right to say that the earlier parts of the book, the Saviour’s own letters to the churches, is expounded with much power, and that the whole work is pervaded by a profoundly reverent spirit, as well as enriched by many most valuable quotations from other authors, and especially from the less known comments of Bengel. The Commentary on St. John occupied a long time, and was very closely bound up with the writer’s personal experience and hopes. Its peculiarities are very striking. It omits much of the kind of learning in which others abound, and supplies the place by much that is found in no other. Though the Gospel never quotes the Old Testament formally and directly, save in such general reference as “The law was given by Moses,” Hengstenberg makes it bear incessant reference to the ancient economy. He will see the waters of the early reservoir reappearing through all the conduits of the New Testament, and not least of all in St. John. Perhaps this was the reason why he took such pleasure in it, and anticipated for it so hearty a reception. It was the first connected work that occupied his thoughts, and its Old Testament colouring gave it a fascination. St. Matthew, as might be supposed, was a favourite Gospel; but he never succeeded in satisfying himself with his exposition. The Epistle to the Romans he lectured upon, but not with such results, either to his own mind or to his readers’, as to warrant publication. St. John’s Gospel he minutely elaborated. He intended it to be much more acceptable to the public, and much more influential on the higher classes, than it ever became. He was heard to say that he thought his Psalms would at any rate give him joy in eternity, but that the Gospel of St. John would command the attention of learned and simple alike. It was honest toil; in the sweat of his brow he had cultivated an old field in a new way. But the work was never popular in Germany, not even so popular as it is in its English form.

It was natural that Hengstenberg’s theory of allusion to the Old Testament should be somewhat exaggerated. For this we are prepared by the preface, which says that “in no Gospel are the allusions to the Old Testament so abundant, so delicate, so mysterious, so profound, as in John: those only who have lived in the Old Testament thought and phrase can immediately detect them.” At the very outset the tendency is observable. Other expositors and investigators have shown—Niedner, to wit—that the Philonic Logos is a very different being from the Johannean, and in that point Hengstenberg has all the argument with him. When, however, he asserts that the evangelist had no reference to any pre-existent operation of the Logos, but even in the beginning of the prologue refers only to the incarnate Word, and that the terms light and life are to be interpreted simply of the Messianic salvation, because those words have such a meaning in the ancient Scriptures, who does not feel that the theory is carrying the expositor away? So also he is quite justified in pouring a New Testament illumination into every verse and clause of the Shepherd idyll, Psalms 23; but when, inversely, he makes the ancient idyll interpret every verse and clause of the Good Shepherd’s words in John 10, we feel that the expositor is misled again, and begin almost to sympathise with the cavils of his critics, who would convict him of finding too much truth in the old covenant. So also it is as perilous as it is unjustifiable to interpret the “eating my flesh and drinking my blood” by the voice of ancient Wisdom crying, “Come, eat of my bread, and drink of the wine which I have mingled.” In his zeal to establish identity of authorship, the cabalistic employment of numbers and symbols, and all the minutiae of mystical allusion, as found in the Apocalypse, Hengstenberg seeks to trace in the Gospel, and sometimes not without success. But for the excessive adoption of this principle the reader has only to consult the subtle and elaborate comment on the Samaritan woman, who by some preconcerted divine arrangement was prepared to be a symbol of the idolatry and pollution of Samaria. Indeed, this is but one instance out of many. The Gospel, which was written to teach all men what and how to believe, which ends with the most remarkable victories of faith in illustration of its own principle, has been more instrumental than almost any other part of Scripture in instigating doubt; especially has this been the case within the last two decennia, and therefore every good commentary on St. John, which deals fairly and fully with its few pressing difficulties, should be welcomed with deep gratitude. Rich as is our orthodox Johannean library, it may be said that the sceptical is as yet still more rich. This of Hengstenberg is, as it respects its apologetic part, of great value, and therefore is a great gain. It should be read very carefully on the Paschal question, on the variations between the Synoptists and St. John, on the genuineness of the discourses assigned to our Lord, and on the last chapters generally. Again and again we have read Hengstenberg’s solution of the difficulty as to the harmony between St. John and the three in the date of the crucifixion, and each time with a deeper sense of the solidity of his argumentation. The same cannot be said—at least we should not say it—concerning the connection between the anointing at the supper in St. John and that of St. Luke. Hengstenberg’s scheme of the family relations of the Lord’s friends at Bethany is not exactly original; but he has made it such by the copiousness of his argumentation on the subject. According to his reading of the gospel narrative, our Mary sitting at the feet of Jesus, the symbol to all ages of the absorbed devotion of a pure and ethereal contemplation, was the reformed sinner whom Simon condemned in his heart. That Simon was the husband of Martha, who, only in part grateful for his healing, could not bring clown his soul or raise it up to the level of his duty to Christ. The details of this enforced harmony, which Origen and Augustine redeem from utter contempt, while its adoption by the Romish expositors makes it in its doctrinal aspect suspicious, we must leave to the reader of Hengstenberg’s commentary. One point alone demands further notice here. While Hengstenberg invests Mary with the characteristics of the converted Magdalene, he also invests the converted Magdalene with the charm of Mary’s devotion. Hence the interpretation of “for she loved much,” which in our expositor’s comment is made to mean that her forgiveness was in a very important sense the fruit of her love.

Hengstenberg had to the very last to feel the effect of this unhappy exposition. On the one hand, the sceptics assailed him for making such great concessions in so hard and inconsistent a manner. Strauss, in particular, wrote “The Half and the Whole!” an essay in a periodical to pour ridicule upon the tortuous combinations of the exegete to arrive at the simple fact which scientific criticism discerns at once. The cry was everywhere, so to speak, “Is Hengstenberg among the rationalists?” He could bear this kind of attack—he was used to it; in fact, it added zest to his life, and gave him the stimulus he wanted. But there was another kind of impeachment not so easy to be borne. His evangelical friends mourned over the defection from the doctrine of justification by faith alone, which they thought they discerned in his words. This gave him a severe pang. But he was never known to shrink pusillanimously from the consequences of a position honestly taken up. The Kirchenzeitung, which had always been known by all as the Evangelical, became the organ of his defence, for the first time in the service of its editor’s orthodoxy. But his defence made matters worse. In 1866 there appeared in the paper an essay on the Epistle of St. James, which had been delivered as a lecture, and was then, according to his custom, reproduced in the journal. The reconciliation of St. James and St. Paul, easy enough when essayed in simplicity of purpose, he made rather mystical, and, many of his best friends thought, with a certain disparagement of St. Paul’s doctrine as generally received. So far did resentment and suspicion go, that the man who had for so many years been the watchword and bulwark of orthodoxy, was virtually condemned by an ecclesiastical court, from which issued a warning to the clergy, directed against his error. He was on all sides bewailed as an apostate in heart from the great principle of the Reformation. His more express justification of himself appeared in his paper in an essay entitled “The Sinner.” Without renouncing the exposition of the lecture on St. James, he expanded the thought of degrees of faith, as well as of degrees in the forgiveness of sins and justification. He maintained that faith laid the foundation for the first access to Christ, and was the instrument of the first participation in forgiveness; but that faith must then proceed onward through love and the good works flowing from love, in order to be capable of appropriating Christ more and more perfectly, and of drawing more and more abundantly from the treasures of grace concealed in Him.

Whoever is acquainted with the shades of distinction on this subject which the contest with Rome renders necessary, will be prepared to find that such an essay as this did not allay the disaffection. The excitement was in fact increased, and extended its influence to a wider circle. Many who had hung on his words were offended; some of his own former pupils, to whom his writings were little short of a confession of faith, now were constrained to write against their master; and conferences, of which he used to be the very centre, were now assembled to renounce him and his doctrine. Though he resolutely maintained his innocence of any intentional abandonment of the fundamental principles of the gospel, and assumed the air of one who was perfectly tranquil on the subject, it is well known that this agitation embittered his latter days, and it is suspected that it had something to do with his comparatively sudden departure. The whole circumstance is to be deplored; for it is certain that Hengstenberg did no more than follow out to their just conclusion certain exegetical results, which a deeper pondering would have shown him to be worthless; and, on the other hand, it is equally certain that he did not abandon the guiding principles and the deepest convictions of his life, We have again and again indicated that, in our judgment, he was not a systematic theologian, or to be trusted for the definition of doctrine. While desperately faithful to the foundations of the Christian faith, and expert in defending those foundations from assault, he had no constructive faculty, and never added a stone to the superstructure of dogmatics. He had not the wisdom which was so necessary for the combination of scientific with biblical theology. He knew not the secret—the important secret—of controlling his biblical results by systematic definitions, and of moulding systematic definitions in the light of Scripture. There is an analogy of Scripture, there is an analogy of faith: each is of the utmost importance in its own sphere; but it is their mutual relation, harmony, and control that constitutes the highest gift and the most important qualification of a teacher of theology.

This, however, requires a little further explanation. In a volume lying before us, The Christian Doctrine of Justification and the Atonement, by Albrecht Ritschl, the matter is exhibited in a striking light by one not very well disposed towards orthodoxy. Ritschl asserts that Hengstenberg, as the head of a party, strove to bind his followers to the dogmatic definitions of Old-Lutheranism while not really faithful to them himself, and that it was only an accident which brought to light at the end the secret inconsistency of his life. This is a grave charge, coming from a man of such eminence as Ritschl, especially as his work is published in English for circulation among us. But it is a reckless charge, and one that has no real foundation. Dr. Ritschl is perfectly correct in asserting that “for she loved much” does not specify the reason of the woman’s forgiveness, but indicates the reason for inferring that she was forgiven. And he is right also, to a certain extent, in his allegation of Hengstenberg’s inaptitude for dogmatic distinctions. But if he were perfectly unbiassed, he would be ready to admit that the worst passages of the censured essays only approximate to what seems like a variation from the Lutheran doctrine of justification by faith. And against that seeming variation must be set the strong, clear, unfaltering assurance given by Hengstenberg himself, that throughout his whole life the doctrine of the Reformation had been held by him explicitly and implicitly; that this precious truth had been continually the very food of his soul, and would be to the end. There are men whose testimony to their own sincerity ought to be an end of all controversy; and there are times when that testimony is enough to outweigh a great amount of plausible argument and evidence. Hengstenberg was such a man, and his dying confessional was such a time. For ourselves, we are deeply convinced that the question with him was not a doctrinal one, but an ethical. He regarded the love which flows from forgiveness as “the fulfilling of the law;” that is, as the gracious spring and strength of all those acts of devotion and obedience which secure the complacency of the Redeemer and the rewards of grace. Giving a rather wider meaning to the terms “forgiveness” and “justification” than Lutheran dogmatics would warrant, he intended to teach that the internal righteousness and sanctification of the soul, and consequently its internal acceptability in the sight of God, goes on increasing in proportion as love increases. Firmly convinced, but most erroneously, that the Mary of loving devotion and the Mary of much forgiveness were one and the same, he stretched the language of systematic theology to meet the case of the imaginary compound of those two. For the rest, there may be degrees in the sin forgiven, in the depth and fervour of the sense of forgiveness, in the expression of that sense, and in the capability of responding to the Lord’s love: all this may be admitted in harmony with the express words of the Simon-parable, and without the least infringement of the true elements of justification by faith.

Before leaving the commentaries of Hengstenberg, one more remark may be made as to their very practical and devotional character. From beginning to end he aimed at unfolding the word of God as a text that cannot be understood save by the spiritual mind, and in relation to spiritual uses. Not that he stands alone in this: he was but one of a large and increasing school of exegetes, whose pietism has done much to redeem exegesis from the frightful scientific aridity that once was its leading characteristic. He was not, perhaps, the founder of this school; but he certainly was, or rather is—for though he is gone, his works have not in this sense followed him, but are with us still—the most interesting example of it. Let the reader make the experiment: let him take the commentaries in this Foreign Theological Library, and find the driest subject—if any can be dry—and follow the expositor, he will find that, while the scientific and the lexical and the dogmatic meaning are fairly brought out, the spiritual is never forgotten. Sometimes, indeed, the proportions are not perfectly observed, but that is not often the case. And the effect is enhanced by the insertion of striking observations taken from the older writers. Hengstenberg does not often make his own practical observations: he defers in this department to Bengel, and the rich old mystical Berlenberg Bible, and the Speners and Arndts. These, once more, are interwoven with the commentary proper in a very profitable way; and this style is, on the whole, much better than that adopted in the conglomerate expositions of Lange’s Series, for instance, where the critical and the doctrinal and the homiletical are kept mechanically apart. The perfect commentary is, wherever it can be found, the perfect fusion of these. Hengstenberg has aimed at this, and fairly succeeded. His works are very valuable to the preacher,—more valuable to him, perhaps, than to the systematic theologian or the miscellaneous biblical student. What he remarks in his last exegetical preface is a kind of manifesto that will suit them all:—“The time is no longer distant when every pastor worthy of his calling will make it a rule of life to read his chapter daily, as in the original text of the New Testament, so also in that of the Old Testament. The exposition of Scripture must meet such a laudable custom, which is formed even in education. There is a want of such exposition of the books of the Old Testament as truly corresponds with the requirements of the clerical office. The author has here earnestly aimed at this object. How far he has succeeded it is not for him to judge, but for those for whom he has written. It will depend very much on this whether he has succeeded in edifying, without going out of his proper sphere, by the introduction of ascetic considerations.” The last work of this indefatigable servant of Christ and of His word was that which is introduced by these preliminary notices. The veteran ends with the strain, to the music of which he attuned his life at the beginning. It might have seemed a superfluous thing to go over the track of the Old Testament history again after so many separate excursions in that territory, especially as the works of Kurtz and Keil, written on the same principles, were fresh before the public; but the author exercised a wise discretion in closing his life with this work. It is a final manifesto of his fidelity to the principles of his career, on the one hand, while, on the other, it is the depository of many a retractation, unconsciously made, of former errors, and of many a concession to fair and honourable criticism upon his works. The reader of these wholesome and readable volumes will be amply repaid, especially if he studies and ponders them. They contain a lucid account of the progressive history of the revelation of God’s will, with invaluable side references to the adverse criticism of infidelity. It is wholly disencumbered of the apparatus of heavy learning, and made interesting and readable by all.

Reviewing the long series of Hengstenberg’s writings, dispassionate critics will agree that they combine more of the qualities that recommend this class of works than those of any other writer who has appeared in this century. In every one of those qualities—in learning, in grace, in exactitude, in profoundness, in spirituality, in finish—he is surpassed by some other author or authors who might easily be named, but there is no other who unites them all as he does. And if to the list of his known works were added a few volumes—the number might be made very large—selected from his terse and vigorous lighter essays, his importance as an author would be very much increased. There is one drawback, that the earlier works were not subjected before his departure to a stern revision. The apologetic works might have been greatly improved; the Commentary on the Psalms might have been recast to advantage; and, generally, an edition of Hengstenberg’s works from his own revising hand would have had a value that cannot now be attributed to them as a whole. Still there is not one of them that the theologian, rightly instructed, would like to miss from his shelves.

Hengstenberg declined rather suddenly. It has been seen that from the beginning his constitution was not sound, and that he had rarely known the satisfaction of spending a day entirely without pain. All the details of his sickness and death were in strict keeping with the tenor of his life. Some one spoke to him, when he lay ill, of the services he had been able to render to the Church. “Ah!” he replied, with a well-known wave of his hand, “that is all nothing! If any one will glorify God in me, let it be for this, that I have laboured more to fear God than cared to fear man, which is a strange thing in these days.” He was full of peace, and greatly desired to depart. “From infancy,” he remarked once more, “I have longed for death. When I first came to the knowledge of saving faith, and learned my vocation, this feeling retired; but the homesickness never altogether left me.” Before his last communion, he was asked if he was ready to forgive all who, during the campaigns of life, had injured or grieved him, and answered, “I know none to whom I have to forgive anything. I am deeply thankful to all men who have admonished me to hold fast my fidelity in watchfulness and prayer.” These words obviously had reference to the misunderstanding as to his fidelity which has been already mentioned; so does the following. He was questioned as to whether he departed in the simple faith which he had taught throughout his course. “Yes, verily do I! The blood of Christ and His sacrificial death have been my only consolation in life, and shall be my solace and hope in death.” All the holy affections of his renewed nature were exhibited most impressively during a severe affliction. His charity was made perfect, as also his patience; both were delivered from every hindrance to their finished exercise, and saved from every taint of imperfection that both others and himself had mourned in them before. As to his patience, it had been severely tested always. Hengstenberg had known severe trials. Five children had been followed to the grave, as also his faithful wife, the mother of them all. His eldest son, Immanuel, died at the age of thirty-three. He was a man like-minded with his father, his faithful companion in arms, and bound up with all his literary labours. It may be supposed, therefore, what a deep sorrow is implied in the dedication of the third volume of his St. John: “To the pious memory of my son Immanuel, born 30th Sept. 1830; slept in the Lord, 4th Oct. 1863. He was deeply engaged with me in this work, which occupied him shortly before his departure.” This had been a very heavy calamity, the precursor of the disruption of all ties on earth; but the amazing energy of the veteran did not yield. He had serious thoughts of giving up the Kirchenzeitung, as well as of renouncing all other engagements. But a stern sense of duty and desire to be useful chained his limbs again to the oar, and, with a smitten heart, he continued every work on which he had been engaged; and not till the immediate approach of death did he make arrangements for a successor in the editorship of the journal. In March 1869 he was attacked by inflammation, which was followed by nearly three months of dropsy and great physical distress. Bereavement came again before death. His son John was removed, and then his only grandson was laid in the grave. “My God, this also!” he cried, and, folding his hands, looked steadily before him in amazement of heart. But he was spared any spiritual conflict. He had “ strengthened his brethren,” he was now himself strengthened. “My soul,” he said, “is like a deep ocean, full of the voice of God’s praise and honour.” Refusing to receive the narcotics they pressed on him,—“with perfect clearness of soul I would go into eternity,”—he departed in peace. At the funeral solemnities in Radensleben, a sermon was preached by Pastor Wölbling on Genesis 32:28, in which it was forcibly shown how applicable the words were to the faithful man who had gone: who wrestled with God in prayer and faith, and prevailed; who wrestled with man also for the faith of Jesus, and likewise prevailed. Another tribute was paid, that of Rathusius: “Suddenly has been called from us a man who was the most distinguished and important Germany had for the interests of the Church, without distinction of Confessions, as men of all Confessions will admit.” Such was the general strain of reference in the evangelical papers of Germany. All parties were united in the honour of one whose memory was held in esteem even by those who shrank from his severity and hated his religious earnestness. His friends were enthusiastic in their tributes: those who had suffered his fair fame to be beclouded before their eyes by prejudice artfully excited, or hasty and ill-advised resentment, forgot everything but his lifelong devotion to the truth. The man most spoken against, or most discussed, at any rate, in Lutheran Germany, was perhaps the object of a more unanimous expression of reverence and respect than any man who has departed during this century. “For forty years,” says Dr. Kahnis, “so-called public opinion has connected with the name of Hengstenberg all that it feels to be distasteful in relation to our return to the faith of our fathers. Pietism, dead orthodoxy, obscurantism, fanaticism, Jesuitism, league against all enemies of progress, and whatever other name may be given to the spirits of night that progress first invents, then fears, and finally fights against. Whatever has been alleged of every representative of the faith of the Church in any age, the name of Hengstenberg is in a certain sense the representative of it. He recapitulated all their evils. And this was not an accidental circumstance. The present time has no ecclesiastical theologian who, with such energy, such perseverance, such unsparing hardness towards himself, fought against the tendencies which are the favourites of the age.” The same disciple and friend says again, turning to the contemporaries of this champion of the faith: “How various are the notions which the fellows of Hengstenberg formed of him! Many who knew him only by his Old Testament writings pictured him with the simple dignity of Abraham, or the imperial spirit of Moses, or the flaming zeal of one of the prophets. To others he appeared like a true reformer,—like a genial Luther or a stern Calvin. Others thought that one of the great polemics of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries had returned. Others, remembering the sympathy with the Herrnhuters which he had always manifested, thought him a Pietist. Some, finally, regarded him only as an ecclesiastical politician, never led by feeling, but swayed always by motives of ecclesiastical expediency. Every one of these was more or less right in his estimate of the character of Hengstenberg. But the combination of the whole in him was something altogether different.”

These observations may be extended to the personal character of this venerable man. As his works were of a peculiar order, and as the general estimation placed him in an isolated and unshared place, so his character as a Christian man was stamped with an impress of distinct individuality. He seemed predestined to combine opposites in himself. He was of a phlegmatic and inert constitutional tendency, and yet no man ever led a more impetuous and earnest life. He was thoroughly affectionate, and his nature was pervaded by tenderness, which beamed through every expression and action; yet he conveyed to the world around the notion of unyielding austerity, and was a man of war through life. He cherished a fervent devotion to the person of Christ, and his religion was altogether of an emotional character, having never lost the tinge of its earliest Pietism; yet he came to distrust theoretically what he practically exhibited, wrote some severe articles against Pietism in its relations to the Church, and never indulged in much free utterance in religious things. Rejoicing in a subjective internal experience as rich as most Christians know, he yet never ceased to magnify religion in its objective and internal character,—until the last, when the approach of death seemed to give him back a certain childlike simplicity, and he talked with effusion of divine things. Among his last words were, for instance, “No orthodoxy without pietism, no piety without orthodoxy;” and this beautiful combination, which is undoubtedly the perfection of the Christian estate, he probably, if all the truth were known, had been seeking to realize through life. His charity abounded, and showed to all men, and in all the relations of life, its best fruits; and yet his judgments were often intolerant, his invectives piercing, and his spirit as a controversialist sometimes intolerably harsh. He “took the sword,” and used it freely. For the sake of much heroic service done, we must forgive, even as his Master forgave, much that was intemperate in his warfare. Moreover, it must be remembered that he paid the penalty of any offence of this kind. He did not indeed “perish by the sword,” but he keenly suffered; and in due time the weapon of others was used for his chastisement, and in order to the perishing of his uncharitableness. His fine character blended at the last all Christian perfections, and lost its unevenness in the unity of a perfect love. His relations to the Christian Church and its Confessions were marked by the same peculiarity. He was born and brought up under Reformed influences; was confirmed under pietistic; but subsequently gave himself up wholly to the Lutheran creed. Yet the two abandoned elements never ceased to co-operate in forming his doctrinal judgments: they wove into the fabric their unobserved threads while he was unconscious, and the result was a remarkably composite theology. The Formula Concordioe, which made so noble an attempt to reconcile the conflicting tendencies and thoughts of the Reformation, he never accepted thoroughly; but his heart was faithful to the Augsburg Confession, which carried with it, as he thought, at least, his full and unwavering convictions. But he was not a dogmatic divine. Systematic theology he never thoroughly understood, and certainly contributed nothing to its modern forms. The works of the first generations of Lutheran systematic theologians—the Quenstedts, and Calovs, and Hutters, and Gerhards—he either never read or never understood. They never moulded his thinkings, as any one may see, for instance, in the theological essays appended to the volume on Ecclesiastes, especially that on the sacrifices of Scripture. In fact, with all his strictness as an advocate of the faith, he was not himself absolutely bound to any Confession. His theology was essentially biblical: the Scriptures were the norm and standard of truth to him. Tolerant enough, and even lax with regard to some points of confessional theology, he was exceedingly tenacious and even bigoted when the infallible standard was in question. It was as an advocate of Scripture that he uttered his most peremptory decisions; and it was in the name of the word of God that he condemned so unsparingly the manifold errors of the day. Dr. Kahnis remarks on this subject: “By the kingdom of God he did not understand the Lutheran Church, nor the kingdom of Protestantism, but the believing world as it pervades all the Confessions. With his strong realism, which always demanded a firm foundation, he required in the Church immoveable authorities and fixed norms. The authority of authorities, the norm of norms, was to him the Bible. A theologian who seeks in Scripture the unbending rule appointed of God and written by His Spirit, will be strongly disposed to insist upon the authenticity, credibility, and integrity of every jot and tittle of that word. We have seen, however, that Hengstenberg pressed this requirement of fixed norms beyond the demands of the Reformers and orthodox teachers of Lutheranism, and involved himself thereby in inextricable difficulties. In this legal position to the Bible we may find the principle of that categorical tone which he assumed in the Kirchenzeitung. It was not given to him to exhibit facts according to the laws of historical objectivity, to investigate them in their inmost motives, to deal gently with developing movements, to bear with the weak, to repel kindly the error. Things under the moon have commonly two sides; but Hengstenberg approved of no mixture. The grey must be either white or black; the green must be blue or yellow. In criticism he saw only unbelief, in speculation only self-deification, in mediating theology only the theology of halves, in the Gustavus-Adolphus union only a blending of belief and unbelief. Hengstenberg showed his own peculiar strength and idiosyncrasy when he painted the shady side of Church and State in apocalyptic colours, and poured out threatenings and promises accordingly. But, after all, he who loves the truth must confess that in this fearless and unsparing treatment of friends and foes, kings and people alike, there was something exceedingly grand, which suggested a parallel with the witnesses of the old covenant.” This passage fairly represents the general feeling with regard to Hengstenberg among the orthodox of modern Germany. They admire his principle of deep devotion to the word of God, but seem to sigh over it as a hopeless ideal. They reverence the simple grandeur of the censures which, in the name of the truth, were denounced on error; but think that it savours also of Old Testament severity, and entangles men in hopeless difficulties. But there can be no doubt upon one point,—that men of such unbending firmness and simplicity of faith are the pillars of the modern Church, and, under God, the only hope of Christendom. In Germany, however, all things religious and confessional are complicated by their relations with the Union between the Churches. This was through life a chronic embarrassment to Hengstenberg; indeed, it was in some sense an hereditary one. Almost every principle, save that of charity and peace, warred in his mind against the Union. He was not what might be called a rigid Lutheran, and yet sufficiently so to make him recoil from a surrender to any scheme of compromise with the Calvinistic Confessions. He was in spirit much attached to some of the doctrines of the Reformed Churches, but not enough to reconcile himself to their infusion into public formularies and rubrics. However, as a devoted adherent of another union,—that of Church and State,—he was constrained to accept what was an accomplished fact. Hence, in the ten years of conflict between the unbending Silesian Lutherans and the Union, he was obliged to consent to what he did not in his secret soul approve. But it was the national Church that he sided with, not the Union as such. In the year 1844, his annual Vorwort showed how gloomy were his views of the Union, and that he was fast preparing to be its opponent. After his experiences of the General Synod of 1846, and the revolutionary year 1848, the ceaseless vacillations of the Government, he took a very decided attitude of hostility to it. But these are questions with which the memorial of Hengstenberg has more to do in Germany than in England. The same may be said of his specific views as to the relations of the Church with the State in Prussia. It has been remarked that Hengstenberg held very high and in some respects very peculiar opinions on this subject. They were opinions which largely influenced his practice, and gave a tone to his writings. Through his paper he was a perpetual censor of public affairs,—one whose voice was heard, directly or indirectly, on every subject, rising shrill and clear above the din of strife. Like an ancient prophet in the theocracy, he brought the principles of divine truth to bear on every question, not shrinking from its application to any persons involved, from the highest to the lowest. It would need a tolerably extensive acquaintance with the various history, domestic and civil, of his fatherland, to understand how great a power he was in this capacity of advocate-general. He judged every question of politics and morals, education, divorce, trades’ unions, international commerce, from a purely scriptural point of view, and therefore often came into serious collision with public sentiment, whether expressed by philosophers or by the common people His conservatism was consistently, even with chivalrous consistency, carried into everything. Obedience to the throne was closely allied with obedience to the King of kings. He distrusted the popular voice in government, whether in the making or in the administering of laws. In ecclesiastical matters he was no friend to the massing of men together in presbyteries and synods, though, as may be supposed, his expedients for abolishing such a large representative element were of a rather grotesque description. He loved to dwell in the times and scenes of God’s manifestation of Himself through select agencies. The ideal was always present to him of the one God acting through one instrument, revealing His purposes and plans to the silent thinker and earnest pleader, while passing by the tumultuous assemblies of the rulers of the Church. In fact, he lived iu a modern and unrealizable theocracy,—an ideal which most men besides himself saw to involve an anachronism. It was not a hierarchy in the State that he wanted, nor a merely preaching synagogue, nor a temple of ritualistic offering. His theory was faithful to the universal priesthood as acknowledged by the State, and in one sense constituting the Church itself. In this, and in many other respects that might be indicated, he was a remarkable combination of Luther and Calvin, by turns the one or the other preponderating, but the latter having the ascendency. For nearly fifty years this noble-minded scholar and Christian instructed his generation, exerting an influence not surpassed by that of any other man upon his own country, and, through the translation of his works and the echoes of his influence, influencing the Christians of other lands. He is gone, and his works follow him. His works also remain, and it is long before they will cease to be standards of authority. In time, however, they will cease to be such; but his name will for ever take high rank among those who have devoted their lives to the Testimony of Jesus, to its vindication and enforcement, both in the Old Testament and in the New.