His physicians saw him early on Wednesday morning, and thought he might perhaps live through the day. But he sank rapidly, and his mind was more or less bewildered through his physical exhaustion. There was now and then a whispered word, "more faith," "blessed Saviour," " a poor sinner," but most of what he said was unintelligible. At about a quarter before eleven, he said, with almost a smile, "I feel a great deal better, and am going to get up." Yielding to the solicitation to remain in bed, he lay quietly for a moment, then rose and sat upright for a single instant. A sudden pallor spread over his face, and he was tenderly replaced upon his pillow, where he drew his breath gently at intervals, but so gently that those who watched about him hardly knew at what moment the ardent soul took flight from the exhausted body.

And so he left us and entered into the joy of his Lord! But what a legacy is the memory of his saintly life and character! "I thank God on every remembrance of him, as the holiest man I have ever known," writes an old friend; and many more of his old friends are ready to-day to bear the same witness. They, too, thank God on every remembrance of him, as the holiest man they have ever known.

ART. VII.-THOLUCK'S JUBILEE.

THE celebration of the semi-centennial jubilee of Dr. Tholuck, which took place at Halle, Dec. 2, 1870, was an event of rare interest. It is now more than fifty years since this eminent divine and scholar entered upon his academic career at the University of Berlin. Soon afterwards he was transferred to Halle, at a time when Gesenius and Wegscheider ruled that seat of learning. He commenced there a revolution in favor of evangelical theology, which after many struggles was completely triumphant. During this long period he has been prominent before the literary and religious world as a teacher and defender of revealed truth, as a fruitful author, as a learned expounder of Scriptures, as an eloquent preacher, and as a guide and friend of students, who flocked from all parts of the world to hear his lectures, and to enjoy his personal intercourse. His life was "a life with the young, fruitful in blessings." No public teacher of the age, not even the sainted Neander, surpasses him in self-denying devotion to students, and in magnetic power over their minds and hearts. He always loved, as he confesses, candidates more than ministers, and students more than candidates, because he was more interested in the process of growth than in the result of growth. He converses freely in ancient and modern languages; his learning is extensive and brilliant, his mind, though dwelling in a frail, sickly tabernacle, retains its youthful freshness and vivacity to his present age of more than three-score years and ten; but the crowning glory of his character and life, is his all-absorbing passion for Christ,

and his intense devotion to young men engaged in the study for the ministry. It is not easy to number those whom he led to the path of life and usefulness. Eternity alone will unfold the rich harvest which sprung from seeds scattered by his hand. When he first taught in Halle, the University was controlled by rationalism: he lived to see the reign of rationalism pass away and succeeded by a faithful band of teachers, who adore Christ as the Son of God.

Such a life of untiring zeal in the noblest of causes was well deserving of the testimony of gratitude which his pupils and friends, without his knowledge, prepared for him in December last.

The festival passed off to the complete satisfaction of all his friends. The Senate of the University of Halle, with the Theological Faculty and chief officers of the Civil Magistrate, the Students and the Clergy of the city, Deputies of the Universites of Lipzig, Jena, Göttingen, Tübingen, Breslau and Marburg, of the Oberkirchenrath of Prussia, and of several Provincial Consistories, as well as literary and benevolent societies, and a host of friends and former pupils, united in demonstrations of respect and gratitude. The theological students of Halle then serving in the German army before Paris, sent a congratulatory address; one of them, mortally wounded, had signed it with trembling hand. The King of Prussia, now Emperor of Germany, by a royal edict from Versailles, conferred on him the star of the Order of the Red Eagle, of the Second Class, and transmitted it through his Court Chaplain, Dr. Kögel, in the name of the Minister of Public Worship and Instruction. All schools of evangelical theology, all classes of society, contributed to this festival, and gave it almost an ecumenical character; it was the jubilee of an idea as well as a man, a victory of faith.

The speech of Dr. Tholuck, on the eve of the festival, was quite characteristic. Its leading thought is: The end of life is to find and to love Christ; the love of Christ should be the all-absorbing passion of life. I shall give the principal part from a translation of Mr. E. A. Lawrence, Jr. for the Independent (Jan. 5, 1871):

"I greet you, not as scholars, not as pupils, not as admirers, but as my friends -friends in Christ; yes, of many may I perhaps say children in

Christ, and truly with pain brought forth. So I will be free, and unbosom myself to you in a few familiar words, as

'Confessions from me,
And wishes for you.'

In designating the character of my life-career, you are wont to say: 'A life with the young, fruitful in blessing.' Were I to dispute this, I should only detract from the glory of the Lord. But the blessing has been peculiar. It has not been simply the blessing of Apollos, which is given to many a one to foster, to cherish; but also in the high degree that of Paul. Not only like Apollos, to water; but also like Paul, to plant, to breathe new life into the cold, starving, misguided life of the young. And this can be done only when the spirit of fire (Feuergeist) from God is there, as the bearer of the breath of God. Above all else, that for which, in reviewing the past, I thank the Lord with prayerful wonder, is the spirit of fire out of God's own heart which has been given me, from the time when I first received the baptism of fire.

The matter of this baptism is very simple. For, from my seventeenth year onward, to those with whom I have become acquainted I have put the question: What is the end of man?' For that it is knowledge I could not believe; nor could I believe that it is even work (wirken), unless it is preceded by growth (werden). What is the true growth in man's life? That became the vital question. And at that time God brought me into contact with an old man in whom Jesus Christ was formed, the hope of glory.* Then I learned what was the true growth in man's life; and, once having that, I had the true work also.

Thus my life received the watchword which it has ever since held fast. 'I have but one passion, and that is HE, and HE ALONE.' The way in which, since that time, this passion has come more and more to possess my heart I must regard as verily a miracle. Every one who knew nothing of Christ I considered as a fortress which must be won in his name. This feeling came into my heart at the very beginning, before my years of teaching commenced. I was yet in my eighteenth year when the Lord gave me the first youthful soul. It was an artillery officer, and, yet more, a Jew by birth a wild, ungainly creature, who had roamed about the world with. out object and without rest; yet, in a short time, he became such a Christian as put me to the blush.

And so this work has gone on-gone on by pen and by mouth; in Berlin and in Halle; at home and abroad; in evil report and good report; always bruised in body, yet never crushed, like those about to die, and, behold, they live. Thus has it gone on in the Divine strength. And when I now look back on the times which lie behind me, on the hundreds and thousands of youthful hearts which I have seen bloom; when I realize that it has all been the fruit of an inner necessity, as the Apostle says: For, though I preach the Gospel, I have nothing to glory of, for the necessity is laid upon me; yea, woe is me if I preach not the Gospel!' then I ask, Can he who looks over such a life, standing at its close, do other than say: 'It is the Lord? This do I say, praising and blessing him who through so great want, weakness, and trouble, through so many struggles and conflicts, has brought me to this hour: 'It is the Lord.'

But especially has it been the Lord among the youthful souls. Yes, that is true which they report as my dictum: 'Rather with the licentiates than

* An allusion to Baron von Kottwitz, a Moravian at Berlin, and a Christian of rare purity and simplicity of character, who came nearer to St. John than any man I ever saw. Tholuck has given a graphic picture of him, under the name of the Patriarch, in his well-known work: The Doctrine of Sin, and the Redeemer, etc.

with the pastors; rather with the students than with the licentiates.' They call me truly, in distinction from a book-professor, a student-professor,' who has had his home among the students, and nowhere so much as there. Yes, in the germinating seeds in these souls have I found and do I find my pleasure-in the flower-buds as they unfold leaf by leaf, and the flower-bells as they spring out of them, with diverse fragrance and varying colors. To see this is a rich enjoyment, and he who has once found his delight in such a work, and whom God has permitted to become a professor-he knows no more of toil, but a fullness of joy.

And thus have I passed my days; and up to this last moment my professor-life has not been my toil, but my real delight. I have seen the secrets of oh! how many young men reveal themselves to me. I have seen them stray far, far away from that which is the true aim of life; and I have had the comfort that many, many such an one has become aware of it, and now finds his joy where I have found mine.

Yet in the life of a student-professor unvarying enjoyment is not to be looked for. Ah! if it were so that at every word an echo would ring out of the awakened heart, that beneath each warm spiritual breath the green shoots would spring forth, and that in this process every giving were also a receiving, then, indeed, would it be happiness without alloy.

But this is far from being always the case. Here, too, are the mute and dull and slow minds, unto which one may call again and again, and yet no sound ring back to him; where one may thrust in the spade at every point without meeting anything that clinks beneath him. And by such minds it was my lot to be surrounded in those first years-when among the nine hundred theological students of Halle hardly any could be found about me except the small, the ungifted, the powerless, the witless; while, on the other side, in contrast with the 'orthodox idiots,' as they had to be called, stood the talented, the brilliant, and the ambitious.' This was one of the most trying periods of my life, in which I learned the love that seeks and follows. Oh, my beloved colleagues of to-day, to learn this love is for a teacher of students the hardest, but at the same time the sublimest task, according to the example of Him who came to seek that which was lost.

As I now look back, I am able to say: Yes, I have done somewhat in this work, and have been permitted to enjoy something in it. But just at this point speaks the monitor within, which tells one how much has been left undone that ought to have been done. And, if there should, perchance, be any here to-night who, out of the time long gone by, recall duties toward them which I have failed to discharge-of these I beg forgiveness, as they will ask forgiveness of those toward whom they have failed.

And now, to you who still remember those old times, I have only to direct a word of desire. You know, my friends, that I have had to go through long, trying contests, through many evil reports, with a bruised, if not broken-down body, and often exhausted on the way, though always made strong again. You, too, are about to face times of struggle; but it is another battle from that which I have had to fight. It is one which might easily lead to despair. At that time I had to contend against a sinking, worn-out age, against a dying generation which had received its verdict from its own time. In such a battle one can fight valiantly and joyfully, not shrinking from blows and wounds, because he wins victories.

You have now to contend against a bold, vigorous generation, against the spirit of an age (einen zeitgeist) which moves on like a ship under full sail. Many of you have already felt the breath of this so boldly onstriding time, and from this have become faint of heart.

Now, my friends, what I first of all would say to you is this: Let us not lightly despise this generation; let us not hastily condemn it. Let us fully