A Sultan is made of like stuff as ordinary mortals, and the sea handles and affects him as it does anybody else. Whilst few can hope to attain the Sultan's royal magnificence, many have attained the other end of his experience, wherein he groaned most unroyally under the grip of old ocean's mighty hand. AN AMERICAN STUDENT IN GERMANY. WHOM HE MET AND WHAT HE SAW. IV.-BERLIN. Pulpit. University. BY W. M. R. If I were to yield to my present inclinations, I would not intrude upon the readers of the GUARDIAN with another number of these reminiscences. The egotistical feature which so prominently prevails does not suit my taste. But how is it to be avoided? Although he may be offended, the indulgent reader will concede that however insignificant the person, the personal has a great deal to do with the interest in articles like the present. A dry bundle of general facts, such as can be gathered out of the encyclopedia or traveler's guide, is not what is wanted. The minutiae of the traveler's own individual experience, together with the impressions and suggestions produced by the objects of interest around him-these are what the ordinary reader desires to become acquainted with. It is through these that he is enabled to project himself into the situation of the writer, to live over as it were the scenes which are described, and thus not only derive pleasure, but real benefit from the narrative. Accordingly I have not attempted to imitate the accomplishment which some writers possess, of appearing not to be egotistical, whilst in reality the possession of the attribute is what gives value to their productions. I sometimes tell the editor of the GUARDIAN of my disinclination to proceed. But with a protracted brow and a slight but emphatic gesticulation he peremptorily says: "Why, go on!" and then in the shape of a very effective, although negative compliment, he insists upon it, "that my articles are not a bit too long." Shall I say anything more about Berlin? Perhaps the reader is ready to answer: "What you have said on that subject will do. Travel with us now to some other place." But the gist of the matter has not yet been reached. I have scarcely alluded to that which makes Berlin what it is: which drew me thither, and constitutes the attraction for thousands. This city is the great intellectual centre of the European continent. We have seen its attractiveness in a social point of view; and what remains to be done is to afford the reader a glimpse into the other spheres of culture, and indicate some of the advantages which are here to be enjoyed for spiritual, scientific and æsthetic advancement. The Pulpit. The Berlin Pulpit is a world in itself. You have here the ablest men that are to be found in a country which has carried the science of theology in all its branches higher than any other. Here are to be met with not only all varieties of excellence, but all shades of religious sentiment. The most rigid orthodoxy is enunciated in some of the churches with a confidence which would do credit to the seventeenth century. Here the importance of a correct doctrinal position is set forth with so much emphasis that you feel prompted to go home at once and make an inventory of the articles of your creed lest one might be found which would endanger your eternal welfare. In others you have a form of pietism represented which pours contempt upon all philosophy, and even history, and almost persuades you that Arendt, Spener and Franke are worth more than all the church-fathers put together, with the Reformers thrown in. But strange to say what seems to characterize the ecclesiastical life of Berlin is the two opposite tendencies of Rationalism and Ritualism. If the majority of the Berlin preachers hold the doctrine of the plenary inspiration of the Scriptures, it is in a sense very different from that in which the word is employed in this country; and it is always understood that the right is reserved to ascribe it to those of the canonical books of the Bible which the individual deems proper. The doctrine of the Trinity as set forth in the ancient creeds, and that of the atonement as taught in our catechisms, is rejected by the most of them. Whilst the number of out and out Rationalists is by no means small. Think of a man representing a considerable party, standing up in one of the pulpits of the state church, and under the authority of the royal ecclesiastical counsel, who disbelieves all that is supernatural in the life of our Saviour, from the incarnation to the resurrection, and from whose preaching it is difficult to determine whether there be a personal God, a fallen human condition or a future state of conscious existence! On the other hand more than one American has at first entering a fair specimen of the Berlin churches thought that by mistake he had gotten among Roman Catholic worshipers. The gown and surplice, and sometimes the white bands, are worn by the clergy. The altar is always at a distance from the pulpit, not unfrequently as much as half the length of the building. Generally there is an extensive vacant place between it and the people. The crucifix and burning candles are never wanting. The minister makes the cross when he begins to officiate at it. Whilst he is engaged in his sacramental functions, it is not unfrequently the case that he has his back turned to the congregation. The altar service is evidently intended to be the centre of public worship, and all else is made subordinate to it.* It has been stated that great intellectual superiority characterizes all these various classes of the Berlin ministers. This renders everything in the shape of claptrap unnecessary. Sensational preaching, in the ordinary sense of the word, is not known. Anything not perfectly legitimate in this sphere would betray shallowness. This is something that even the masses in this city quickly detect and will not endure. So far as gesticulation is concerned, I never saw the hand raised higher than the head. Oratorical display in general is not indulged in. Fine speaking passes for little. At the same time there is no reading from the pulpit. I remember but once to have seen anything in the shape of a manuscript employed by a preacher. It was in the case of the venerable Strauss, the chief court-preacher, and formerly a professor in the university. The occasion was the opening of the Landtag or parliament. All the members of both houses together with the royal family were assembled in the Cathedral for worship. This was preliminary to the formal opening of the sessions with an address delivered by the king from the throne. The preacher took for his text the words: "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom." It was not in the least apparent that he had any notes before him. Fluency, earnestness, and pungency, characterized the discourse, which was listened to with eager attention apparently by every individual of the immense mass that thronged that spacious edifice. Dr. Strauss was at this time seventy-four years of age, and had been pastor in the Cathedral about forty years. He preached regularly when his turn came. He had three colleagues. These were Hoffman, Snethlage and Hengstenberg. The latter dare not be confounded with the professor of the same name, who by the * In Western Prussia and Southern Germany, on the contrary, the altar is of en nothing more than a bare table; and sometimes in case of a crowd, it may be seen covered with hats and other articles of clothing. Dr. Krummacher did not relish the formal feature in the Berlin Cultus; and at the Kirchentag in the Wupperthal, in a private cirele, expressed himself as amused at the horror of some of the Eastern pastors at such desecration of the altar. way although a leader of the clergy, never entered the clerical ranks. All of these men were getting advanced in years and had lost much of the force and energy, which formerly characterized their preaching and secured for them the high position they occupied. The cathedral was usually crowded, so much so that it was difficult to get a seat, and many were required to stand. I was always inclined to think that the crowd was to be attributed, in a great measure, to the central and attractive location of the edifice in the Lustgarten, to the presence of the royal family, and to the superb music, said to be the finest in the world. Dr. Büchsel's was the fashionable church. It stood outside of the walls of the city in or near the park. The congregation was composed for the most part of the nobility, including also members of the cabinet, military officers and professors. Büchsel was a model pastor. He knew the wants of his people and understood how to meet them. He preached ordinarily twice on Sunday, which was something unusual in Berlin. During the week he held a Bible lecture. His preaching was for the most part expository and practical. I heard him once illustrating a point in his sermon by directing attention to a painting hanging on the wall near the pulpit. It was a copy of one of the master-pieces in the picture gallery of the museum. The subject was Christ demanding the penny to be shown. His sermons might be called plain talks with his people. In such an easy and familiar way does he present the truth to his congregation that you are reminded of a father speaking to his children. Nothing could be more sound and wholesome than the matter of his discourses. Dr. Büchsel carries with him a great weight of authority, and his influence for good is scarcely to be measured. Von Bethman Holweg advised me to go to hear a Moravian minister whose name I cannot recall. He told me that when Drs. Hoffman and Büchsel did not preach this was the church which he attended. The building was very plain. Both interior and exterior contrasted strongly with the ancient and imposing edifices of the established church. Indeed I do not remember whether there was an altar at all. The minister wore no gown. His case was, as far as my knowledge goes, the solitary exception in this respect among the one hundred ministers of the city. But the liturgical service was very protracted. The congregation turned over page after page of antiphonies and responsive reading. Worshiping out of the book constituted the great bulk of the service. All participated with distinctness and feeling, and I never was able to detect any sign of weariness. It was a striking example of a congregation assembled for worship, and for worship chiefly. An excellent choir contributed its full share to the at tractiveness and solemnity of the service. In the preaching we had a good illustration of Luther's advice to the preachers, Steh frisch auf. Thu's maul auf. With a brisk movement the minister took his place in the pulpit. He announced his text with solemn and emphatic utterance. With but few preliminary remarks he stated his theme or subject. Usually it was some ordinary and simple scriptural topic. One I remember was faith. He went to work in good earnest. Spoke with rapidity and to the point. Carried his hearers along without allowing their interest to flag for a moment. He had not a word too many, and not one was lost on his auditors. In twenty minutes, or a trifle over, he was done. This was his rule. No one failed to go away benefited. A lesson of divine wisdom had been presented in a compact and stirring form. And the feelings of solemnity and devotion connected with the worship proper were in no sense interfered with. The most popular preacher in Berlin was Arendt. He was deserving of his popularity. The large Parochial Kirche was always filled by a congregation composed for the most part of the middle classes. It was nothing unusual to see Twesten, the successor of Schleiermacher, in the professional chair of the university, himself on minister, slipping in and taking his seat in a retired part of the building. In Arendt were not to be found the wit and origi nality of Beecher, nor the vehement oratory of Spurgeon. The attraction here was the simple truths of the Gospel presented in a plain and forcible way by one who deeply felt their power. There was no enthusiasm perceptible, but a subdued glow of earnestness characterized his preaching, which was very effective in calling forth the sympathy of the devout hearer. I could wish for no better evidence of the power of the pure Gospel to draw and influence the heart of man, than the fact that in a city like Berlin multitudes from all classes of society were regularly gathered around the pulpit of this humble but able preacher of the word. If any man deserved to be called the Paul of modern times, I know of none whose claim to the title would be better than the little monontonous and awkward man of the Parochial, who was so apt in inculcating the truth, so skillful in correcting error, and so thoroughly imbued with the spirit of the Gospel. Professor Steinmyer was at one time the star of the Berlin pulpit. When he was pastor of one of the smaller congregations in a remote part of the city, crowds flocked out to hear him. His sermons were almost perfect models of homiletical skill. After he was called into the university he became the university preacher, |