Dr. Carl Ullmann is perhaps best known in this country and in America
as the author of the two apologetic treatises, 'The Sinlessness of
Jesus' and 'The Essence of Christianity;' but his name will probably
live in the history of theology mainly as the founder, and for many
years conductor of the _Theologische Studien und Kritiken_, that
oldest and ablest of all the German theological journals. Though not
what his fellow-countrymen term an epoch-making man, either in the
scientific or practical sphere, he was unquestionably a representative
man--representative of the best elements both of German thought and
German character. Both the strength and weakness of German theologians
were illustrated in his experience; the former in his successes, the
latter in his failures. There are few, if any, German theologians
whose works contain so much that applies directly to the theological
needs and efforts of the present moment.
Dr. Carl Ullmann was born on the 15th of March, 1796, at Epfenbach, a
village about half-way between Heidelberg and Mosbach, six miles from
the river Neckar, where his father was pastor of the Reformed Church.
Several of his forefathers on his mother's side had been pastors at
Epfenbach; and his father, who was a native of Heidelberg, took
possession of the living, and married the daughter of its previous
incumbent at the same time. His father was a harmless, kind-hearted,
cheerful, and pious man; his mother had a lively, imaginative,
poetical temperament; the son inherited the qualities of both. The
only other child, a daughter, died when very young.
Carl was of a delicate physical constitution, but eager to learn. Till
he reached his ninth year, he went to the village school, the
instruction at which was supplemented by his father. Among the first
things he read were the poems of Claudius and Hebel; and he learnt by
rote so easily, and took such a pleasure in declaiming poetry, that
his parents used to say--'We must make a Professor of him.' Happy as
he was at home, he began early to feel the lack of other companionship
than that supplied by the peasant children with whom he associated,
and a desire stirred in him to go out into the world. In the fragment
of an autobiography which was found among his papers, he says:--'I
remember the very spot--it was in one of the beautiful forests near my
birth-place--where I first became conscious of a yearning to leave
home. It was as strong as the yearning which one generally feels to
return home when one is away. I was then seven years old.' In his
ninth year he was accordingly sent to Mosbach, where he lodged with a
clerical brother of his mother's, and attended the Latin school. After
a year he entered the Gymnasium at Heidelberg, with the distinct idea
of becoming a pastor, and perhaps eventually of succeeding his father.
The school does not seem to have been all that it ought to have been;
but the social influences by which he was surrounded were of an
exceptionally stimulating and elevating kind. He rose from class to
class in the Gymnasium with such rapidity, that he was prepared to
pass the so-called _Abiturienten-Examen_[44] before reaching his
seventeenth year--an unusually early age.
About this time his thoughts were almost completely turned aside from
the profession he had intended to pursue, by the influence of friends
of the family with which he lived. These were the brothers Boisseree,
who were enthusiastic lovers of art, and had a fine collection of
works of the old German masters. Young Ullmann was often invited by
them to study their treasures, and became eventually so infected with
their enthusiasm; or rather, perhaps, one ought to say, his own
slumbering love of, and susceptibility to, the beautiful in nature and
art, was so awakened, that he proposed to his parents to allow him to
become a landscape painter. Two young men who were then his friends,
and in whose company he used to traverse the charming scenes which
abound in the neighbourhood of Heidelberg, afterwards became eminent
artists, and he himself produced sketches and drawings full of the
brightest promise. His parents, however, were shocked at the idea of
their son taking up a profession that brought more honour than bread,
especially as they were not in circumstances to sustain him until he
should have attained a name and position; they urged on him,
therefore, that he might secure leisure enough for the pursuit of art
as a country pastor, and promised to let him study in Munich after
completing his course at the University. The prospect thus opened up
calmed him, and by the time his theological studies were completed,
other thoughts filled his mind. To the end of his life, however,
Ullmann remained a lover of art, and the æsthetic turn of his mind
manifested itself in occasional poetic effusions, in that grace of
style for which he was reputed beyond most of his contemporaries, and
in a general refinement of culture. It is scarcely likely, however,
that he would have attained the eminence as an artist that he gained
as a theologian; and certainly the pursuit of art would not have
admitted of his exerting the direct practical influence which he
eventually wielded, and which was to him a source of such deep
satisfaction.
He matriculated at Heidelberg in the autumn of 1812. The University
had just lost one or two of its brightest ornaments--the youthful
Neander, for example,--but still, notwithstanding its losses, next to
the young and rising Berlin, it had the ablest professors, and was
inspired by the highest aims. The most eminent member of the
theological faculty was Daub; the most notorious was Paulus. The
former was a man of remarkable force, energy, simplicity and
earnestness, and so devoted to his academic vocation that he once
wrote to his then young friend Rozenkranz, now Professor of Philosophy
in Königsberg, and one of the few remaining Hegelians of the right
wing, 'Holidays, do you say? Does the old man still take no holidays?
No, my dear friend, not yet, nor do I want any; my heart's desire is,
if possible, to die in my chair, docendo.' His desire was almost
literally fulfilled; for the stroke which terminated his life, smote
him whilst lecturing on anthropology, November 19th, 1836. He has been
termed, rather wittily, but spitefully, the Talleyrand of German
Philosophy and Theology, because 'he passed from the Kantian
Revolution, through Schelling's Imperialism, to Hegel's Reactionaryism.'
Deducting the spite, there is truth in the description, for he began
his career as a thorough Kantian, then became a warm disciple of
Schelling, and finished up as a Hegelian of the right wing. The
changes he underwent were both sign and evidence of the honesty and
thoroughness with which he devoted himself to the investigation of
truth; there was not a trace in him of the frivolity of the French
diplomatist. His best-known work is 'Judas Iscariot; or, Meditations
on the Good in its relation to Evil.' Daub was still in his Schelling
stage when Ullmann began to study. Paulus was, on the other hand, the
most noted representative of the _Rationalismus vulgaris_, as it has
been termed, in the department of exegesis. He was a man of wide
reading, great learning, and acuteness, but possessed by so intense an
aversion to everything that did not square with his narrow common
sense, that he was incapable of understanding Christianity, and
therefore made it his business to explain away everything that bore a
supernatural or mystical character. Perhaps this was due in part to
the fact that his father, who had been removed from his pastorate, _ob
absurdas phantasmagorica visiones divinas_, forced him, whilst still a
boy, to take part in the conferences with spirits and demons which he
was in the habit of holding in conjunction with others like-minded.
Professor Tholuck, of Halle, rarely lets pass an opportunity, in his
exegetical lectures, of whetting his humour on some absurdity or other
of Paulus. A greater contrast than that between him and Daub could
scarcely have existed; and scientifically they may be said to have
lived like cat and dog. Beside these two, another eminent name then
graced the rolls of the University--Creuzer, author of the 'Symbolik
und Mythologie der alten Völker, insbesondere der Griechen,' a work
which was long the chief authority on its subject, and which even now
well deserves consulting.
Ullmann's mind seems at this stage to have been in the unreflective
state, in which, perhaps, a majority of German theological students
are at the outset; naturally so, too, for his vocation was rather the
choice of his parents than his own. He says about himself:--
'As I was still young, and my father wished me to have
plenty of time for study, I did not at once devote myself
exclusively to strictly professional studies, but attended
the philosophical and philological lectures of Daub and
Creuzer, and those on the "Encyclopædia of Theology" and
"Church History," by Paulus. During the year that I thus
spent at Heidelberg, I cannot say that I either felt any
specific interest in science, or evinced any independence
of mind. I was an industrious and respectful hearer, but
little more. With the idea of setting me on my own feet,
and plunging me more into theology, my father wished me to
go to another University.'
Advised by Daub, Ullmann accordingly resolved to go to Tübingen.
This custom of students pursuing their studies at more than one
University is almost universal in Germany; and where the system of
instruction is one by lectures, has, unquestionably, many advantages.
Some of the direct personal influence and stimulus that a man of
eminent vigour may exercise, is perhaps lost; but, on the other hand,
the danger of a young man being too much influenced is avoided, and a
greater manifoldness of development is favoured. This is one reason
why thought in Germany is less stereotyped than among ourselves. Some,
however, may, perhaps, deem this no advantage.
Tübingen was at that time considered the safest and soundest of all
the German universities. It was the seat of the so-called
Supranaturalistic school, and had been the refuge and stronghold of
orthodoxy during the prevalency of Rationalism. Students of theology
streamed thither from all parts of Germany. The principal theological
professors were Scheurer, Flatt the younger, Bengel, and Bahnmeier,
whose teachings tended to confirm young Ullmann on the positive
Christian belief which had been inculcated on him at home and at
school. Still he cannot be said to have been satisfied. The Tübingen
theology, based as it was on philosophical presuppositions that had
been to a large extent outgrown, was now becoming antiquated, and his
mind was unconsciously reaching out towards the new mode of
representing Christian truth, of which Schleiermacher was the
harbinger, and which he himself eventually did so much to propagate.
Some of his best and highest instincts and capabilities found
nourishment and stimulus, however, in the circle of University friends
to which he belonged. Among these were Gustav Schwab, the biographer
of Schiller, and himself a poet, and above all, Uhland, who had then
just published his first poems. The friendship formed with Schwab
continued unbroken to the end of life. Such circles, originating in
like literary interests and tastes, were then common in Germany. The
atmosphere, especially of the universities, was full of what strikes
our colder English mind as sentimental enthusiasm, but which then
appeared to be glowing love for the highest ideals in State and
Church, in science and philosophy, in prose and poetry. It were
possibly better for our national and social life if there were a
little more capability of enthusiasm for the ideal in the young men of
our universities and colleges. We are too hard, muscular, and
materialistic. Ullmann retained his susceptibility for the beautiful
in literature to the end of life; and occasionally, too, expressed his
thoughts and feelings in rhymes, of which, even poets by profession
would not have needed to be greatly ashamed. He returned home in the
autumn of 1816, and shortly afterwards passed his theological
examination at Carlsruhe. The certificate he received was so good that
he was at once offered a teachership at the Lyceum in Carlsruhe, but
declined it on the ground of health, and resolved, according to the
general custom in Baden, to become a 'vikar,' or, as we say in
England, a 'curate,' or assistant. He was ordained on the 12th of
January, 1817, in the church at Epfenbach, and immediately thereupon
entered on a _vikariat_ at Kirchheim, where a friend of his father's
was the incumbent. There he remained a year, but his wish to become a
country pastor was not to be realized. The manner in which he had
passed his examination had excited the attention of the ecclesiastical
and university authorities, and as there was at that time a strong
wish to see Baden young men selecting the _academical career_, that
is, settling as teachers at the university with a view to becoming
professors, the Government called upon him to take this course, and
offered to supply him with the means necessary to further study.
Ullmann's own inclinations responded to this invitation; but he
hesitated at first because he had a wholesome horror of adding
another to the already too long list of second-rate professors. His
parents were naturally gratified; but with noble tact and generous
self-sacrifice, at once said that they themselves would provide their
son with the requisite means, in order that he might remain free to
take whatever course seemed most suitable to himself.
In the autumn of 1817, he accordingly recommenced his university
studies. At first he hesitated whether he should go to Göttingen or
remain at Heidelberg; he wisely decided on the latter. For though the
former had not a few eminent men, it was bound too much by the
traditions of the eighteenth century, whereas Heidelberg was one of
the fountains of the new theological and philosophical life that had
begun to permeate Germany.
Philosophy was the subject to which he first devoted himself; in
particular, the philosophy of Hegel, who had then just been appointed
professor at Heidelberg. He never properly relished Hegel; indeed, to
judge from one of his letters to his friend Schwab, he seems to have
been made not a little melancholy by it. Satisfaction it could not
well afford him, for his was not a mind to put up with dry bones and
logical subtilties; but it proved to be an excellent intellectual
gymnastic, and compelled him to an examination of his own theological
and philosophical position that was greatly needed, and which would
otherwise have been scarcely possible. The _à priori_ constructive
method of the Hegelian philosophy did not accord with the native bent
of his mind. He shows, too, that he began to be aware of the line he
himself would have to take in the following words addressed to one of
his examiners who had urged him to turn his special attention to
systematic theology:--
'I am not one of those who are able to construct an
historical fact like the Christian religion, by starting
from a philosophical centre. My way into science is that of
historical inquiry; it passes from the particular to the
general, not from the general to the particular; or,
applied to theology, from exegesis and history to
systematic theology and Christian ethics.'
He accordingly first took up philological, exegetical, and patristic
studies; he did so from a just though instinctive conviction that
satisfactory solutions of the great problems of theology and
philosophy are only possible on the basis of sound and thorough
historical studies. That it cost him no little self-restraint to carry
out this method, is evident from the letters he wrote about this time.
In one addressed to Schwab occur the words--
'It is my misfortune that at present I have little time to
give to the highest questions. I have so many of the merely
outward parts of science which are absolutely necessary to
fetch up, that I often groan as under a heavy burden.
Still, even in the desert of grammatical and critical
study, I meet with many a refreshing oasis.'
He began also to feel a deeper sympathy with the practical aspects of
the vocation on which he was entering. In the same letter from which
we have just quoted, he says--
'I am sometimes disposed to envy the men--and there are
many of them--who live on an untroubled life, doing the
right without difficulty. My life appears, by comparison,
one continuous self-torture. But should I not be acting
unworthily? Must I not rather confess to myself that I have
as yet no solid ground on which I can take my stand? Yes;
and therefore, I am resolved to forego all the enjoyments
and pleasures of life rather than not attain to
certainty--rather than not be able to say, "I know in whom
I have believed."'
He concluded his studies at Heidelberg by taking the degree of Doctor
of Philosophy, and in the spring of 1819 entered on a scientific tour
intended to embrace Jena, Göttingen, Dresden, Leipzig, Berlin, and
other centres of German culture. His stay in Berlin was both the
longest and the most important. He there made the personal
acquaintance of De Wette, Neander, and Schleiermacher, and his
intercourse with the last two in particular had a determining
influence on the whole of his future course. That for which his own
studies had been preparing the way was now accomplished, namely, his
emancipation from the old supranaturalistic forms of theological
thought which had hitherto hampered him. He did not, however, quit his
hold of the substance of the Christian faith; on the contrary, it
became more completely a living possession. In the sketch he wrote of
the life of his friend Umbreit, he describes his Berlin experiences as
follows:--
'In intercourse with De Wette, Neander, and Schleiermacher,
I absorbed into myself the elements of the new theology. In
opposition to both Rationalism and Supranaturalism,
Christianity presented itself to me then as a new vital
creation and divine revelation, in the full sense of the
term, but, at the same time, as something undergoing an
organic development in the history of mankind. I saw
accordingly that it was the function of the theologian to
seek to effect a reconciliation between the Christian faith
and the healthy elements in the culture of the age, that
is, to exhibit it in its reasonableness, instead of in the
form of authority.'
De Wette's influence was more an exegegetical than a critical one,
and Ullmann never showed much taste for the business of the critic.
Schleiermacher taught him the distinction between faith and theology
and the central significance of the person of the Redeemer, without,
however, seriously infecting him with his own exaggeratedly subjective
and speculative tendencies. Through Neander, his mind was open to the
appreciation of Christianity as a phenomenon and power in the history
of humanity. He was most drawn towards the last-mentioned, and always
spoke of him with deep and loving reverence. There was not a little
affinity between the two--an affinity which manifested itself even
more distinctly in later years; and if their course of development had
been more similar, the resemblance between them would have been
something very unusual. This will appear as we advance in our task.
During this tour, Ullmann visited Hamburg, and there formed an
acquaintance which was destined to become very intimate, and to have
not a little influence on his career as a theologian--it was that of
the celebrated publisher, Friedrich Perthes. The circumstances under
which the introduction took place were embarrassing enough. Ullmann
had ran short of money, and not knowing what else to do, went to
Perthes, who at once, on the credit of his honest face, as he said,
lent him a sufficient sum of money to enable him to carry out his
immediate plans. Perthes subsequently became Ullmann's publisher.[45]
In the autumn of 1819, Ullmann commenced lecturing at Heidelberg,
taking for subjects Exegesis and Church History. With unusual
consideration, the Government gave him, even as _Privat-Docent_, a
small salary, and promised him early promotion to an _Extraordinary_
Professorship, a promise which was fulfilled in 1821. The first
published fruits of his studies were a critical treatise on the Second
Epistle of Peter, in which he defended the first two chapters as a
genuine fragment of the Apostle, but admitted the remainder to be the
work of another hand; and an examination of the 'Third Epistle of Paul
to the Corinthians,' which had just been translated from the Armenian
by Rind, and which he demonstrated to be a forgery. These were the
first and last properly critical essays he ever wrote. His next
publications, which were 'An Archæological Essay on the Christian
Festivals,' originally appended to the second edition of Creuzer's
'Symbolik,' and another on the sect of the Hypsistarians, written in
Latin, as the programme when he entered on his professorship,
inaugurated the labours in the field of Church history where lay his
true vocation, and in which he achieved his best successes.
The year 1820 brought two events on which he never ceased to look back
with the intensest thankfulness--his betrothal with Hulda Moreau, who
eventually became his wife, and his friendship with Umbreit, who had
become his colleague as Professor of Oriental Languages. The strain in
which he refers to the former, when writing to his friend Schwab, was
all that the most ardent lover could demand. It will suffice to quote
one sentence:--'Never had I either in hopes or dreams represented to
myself the happiness of love so beautifully and truly as I have found
it to be in reality.' Of Umbreit he spoke in the following terms:--'He
is just the friend for whom I have longed; one who takes me and
understands me just as I am and live; who loves me faithfully with all
his heart, despite my defects, and who has insight into and sympathy
with the needs of my soul.' 'Soon,' says he, in his own sketch of
Umbreit's life, 'our hearts opened to each other, and ere long our
relation to each other was such that it became a necessity to meet
daily and exchange thoughts and experiences. We were one as to the
basis and goal of life; and yet the individuality and development of
each were so different that we supplemented each other, and were thus
for each other a perpetual stimulus.' It was due to Ullmann's
influence that Umbreit became positively Christian, both in his
theology and life.
These were the bright aspects of the life of the young professor. It
had, however, its shadows. The University numbered at this time only
fifty-five students of theology, and they were mainly divided between
Daub and Paulus; besides, the ground was so pre-occupied by
Rationalism on the one side, and Speculation on the other, that there
was no room for a theology that aimed to be at once evangelical and
historical. In 1823, Ullmann wrote to Schwab:--'In a scientific
respect, our position here is bad. The constellation of theological
studies is of such a kind that several, I might say most of the
professors, are really useless. To this number I have the honour to
belong, along with men like Abegg and Umbreit. I deliver my regular
lectures, but I have very few hearers and little hope of an
improvement.' In addition to this, his salary was so small that it did
not suffice for his own wants, much less could he marry on it. He
became at last so weary of this state of things that he begged the
Government to give him a living in the country. Instead of acceding to
his wish, however, they increased his salary, and thus enabled him to
venture on marrying in 1824.
In the following year he published his first large work--a monograph
on Gregory Nazianzen, which proved him to be a worthy compeer of
Neander, and brought him, in 1826, an invitation to the Theological
Seminary at Wittenberg. Had not the Government again increased his
salary, and made him in addition Professor in Ordinary, he would
probably then have quitted Heidelberg, much as he loved it, and
thoroughly loyal and grateful as were his feelings towards his native
land. He no longer, however, felt so happy there as he had done in
former years. The party spirit under which he had to suffer so
severely at a later period, and which has done so much to degrade both
theology and the Church in Baden, was just beginning to make itself
felt, both in the University and in private circles.
The next great event in his life, and an important event in the
history of German theology, the founding of the _Theologische Studien
und Kritiken_, shall be narrated in his own words:--
'About this time the thought occurred to us' (referring to
Umbreit and himself) 'of establishing a new theological
journal, of which we proposed to ourselves to be joint
editors. Our idea was, not to increase the already too
numerous depositories of mere dry erudition, but to create
an organ for the new theology which was either already in
existence or in process of growth. After talking the matter
over carefully between ourselves, we communicated our idea
to our friends--Nitzsch, Lücke, and Gieseler,[46] all of
whom were then in Bonn. As they at once promised their
cooperation, we arranged to meet, for the maturing of our
plans, at Rüdesheim, in the spring of 1827. Singularly
enough, too, the publisher to whom we proposed applying,
Friedrich Perthes, had himself also, quite independently,
been entertaining a similar plan; and that not merely as a
business speculation, but also for the sake of promoting
the so-called new theology.'
As his and their wishes thus happily met, the scheme was speedily
ripened, and the first number made its appearance at Hamburg, in 1828,
bearing on its title-page the names of Drs. Ullmann and Umbreit as
editors, and of Drs. Gieseler, Lücke, and Nitzsch as collaborateurs.
During the first years of its existence, the _Studien und Kritiken_
had a severe struggle: in a commercial point of view it certainly
did not pay; indeed, as such things are now regarded in this country,
it never has paid well. The highest circulation it ever
attained--unprecedented before, and since, in Germany--was between 900
and 1,000. This was prior to that year of political and social
disturbances--1848. What the number of its subscribers at the present
moment may be, we do not know; we have been told they do not reach
500. Among its contributors it has had almost all the greatest German
theologians of the last forty years; for example, Schleiermacher, De
Wette, Rothe, Julius Müller, Twesten, Hundeshagen, Tholuck, Bleek,
Neander, Dorner, Schenkel, Schweitzer, and others too numerous to be
specified. At present, it is edited by Drs. Hundeshagen and Riehm.
Whilst from the beginning the original design of its founders--that it
should be the organ of the theology of which Neander and Nitzsch may
be said to have been the best-known representatives--was
conscientiously adhered to, its pages were constantly open to opinions
diverging very widely from those of the editors. In fact, it was a
kind of neutral ground on which men of, one might almost say, opposite
theological opinions met for courteous tourney. None were excluded
from contributing whose spirit was that of reverential inquiry. It has
accordingly been in the best sense a power, not only in Germany but
even throughout Christendom. We cannot write these words without
blushing with shame that we in Great Britain have never been able
adequately to sustain, for any length of time, any purely theological
journal at all, much less one that dared to be something more than the
mere organ of a little party or sect. It is a disgrace to us. In this
matter, we are far behind even America; how much farther behind
Germany! and that, too, notwithstanding that a certain interest in
theological questions is much more widely diffused among us than in
the latter country.
The article with which the _Studien_ opened, at once established the
character both of the journal and of its principal editor; it was one
on the 'Sinlessness of Jesus,'[47] which subsequently appeared in a
separate and considerably enlarged form. During Ullmann's lifetime it
ran through seven editions, and was translated into, at all events,
one foreign language. Few books have rendered better service to young
theologians, in their doubts and struggles, than this.
In 1829, an invitation came to him from Prussia to take the chair of
Church History at the University of Halle. Strongly as he was attached
to Heidelberg, and patriotically desirous as he was of serving Baden,
still this time he felt that it was his duty to go. Such, too, was the
opinion of his friends; even the Minister of Education in Baden raised
little objection, though he expressed the hope that when the right
moment came, Heidelberg would be able to reclaim its own. The change
was a very great one--greater than can well be appreciated by any one
who is not acquainted with the difference, not only between Halle and
Heidelberg, but also between their respective inhabitants. South
Germans do not always harmonize well with North Germans. No contrast
could be greater than that between the two towns. The praises of
Heidelberg--of its river, castle, forests, mountains, and
valleys--everybody sings, and sings with justice. Halle is known to
comparatively few, and is not likely to be loved by ordinary tourists.
And yet those who have lived in Halle for any length of time always
think of it with affection. Its streets are narrow and close; its
pavements used to be uncivilized in summer, and absolutely barbarous
in winter; its atmosphere is tainted by one general smell of the
peculiar kind of turf that is burnt, and by numerous particular
odours; the older houses and rooms are fusty, and abound in tenants
who do not pay, but exact rent from their fellow-lodgers; it is
awfully hot in summer and cold in winter; the scenery around, save in
one direction, is very dismal--and yet few who have studied there can
help saying, 'Dear old Halle!' The secret is the kind, unpretending,
truly scientific spirit that prevails among the professors and their
families, rendering them very accessible to all, and facilitating
close intercourse. Ullmann found in Halle all the diversities of point
of view that existed at Heidelberg, and, indeed, at every University.
Wegscheider and Gesenius represented Rationalism, but a better and
larger spirit possessed the faculties. More frequent opportunities
were, moreover, afforded him of meeting the other eminent men of the
age. He visited Schleiermacher and Neander in Berlin; Tieck in
Dresden; Hase and Baumgarten-Crusius in Jena; went a foot tour with
Lachmann, Hossbach, and Schleiermacher in Thuringia; and held a
conference with the co-operators and contributors of the _Studien_ in
Marburg. But the chief source of satisfaction were the 800 theological
students who then frequented Halle; for he now secured auditories
double the number of all the theological students of Heidelberg taken
together. Naturally, too, his income was more adequate to the
necessities of a man of family and learning than it had ever been
before. All these circumstances gave his letters to his friends in
South Germany a tone of unmistakeable cheerfulness.
During the early Halle years, his time and energies were so much
absorbed in the preparation of his lectures and the editing of the
_Studien_, which now devolved almost entirely on himself, that
extensive literary undertakings were out of the question. He lectured
on Church History, History of Doctrine, Symbolics, Introduction to the
New Testament, and at last also on Dogmatics. This last subject was
taken up by way of counteracting the influence of Wegscheider. In his
inaugural discourse on 'The Position of a Church Historian in the
Present Day,' afterwards printed in the _Studien_ (1829), Ullmann
sounded the key-note of his entire future teachings in words some of
which may be quoted here. The entire discourse well deserves studying
by ourselves at the present time:--
'Sound reason and pure revelation of God are not at the
root diverse, and cannot be opposed to each other, though
they may present religious truth in differing forms and
compass. A truly divine doctrine will never interfere with
the freedom of thought and of intellectual development; on
the contrary, it will confer true, inward liberty. That
which separates the opposing parties in our midst is, on
the one hand, that the defenders of reason are not always
rational enough, not truly and impartially rational; and on
the other hand, that the believers in revelation do not
adhere with sufficient simplicity to the word and spirit of
revelation.' 'Christianity is higher reason; it is reason
in the form of history, in the form of a divine
institution; and as such it connects itself with the
deepest needs of the human soul.' 'Christianity and reason
must not and cannot be separated from each other.'
The years 1831 and 1832 were years of deep sorrow: in the former he
lost his eldest daughter; in the latter his beloved wife. Severe as
was the test to which his faith was thus put, it stood it well. He was
able to say, 'The Lord gave; the Lord hath taken away: blessed be the
name of the Lord.' But the blow affected him very severely. He
withdrew from the social intercourse in which he had so greatly
delighted; his health, too, was so enfeebled that he was compelled to
go for a time to Baden on visits to friends. The following extract
from a letter to Umbreit, after his return, shows how he thought and
felt:--
'I have found it very hard to settle down in Halle after so
long an enjoyment of the beauties of my old home. Like an
unwilling child, I have only given in by degrees. Nor did I
really become contented again till I set thoroughly to
work. And now that I am at work, I am again looking forward
to the holidays. One always seems to remain a child, and
life is an eternal circle, and after all a labour and
sorrow, occasionally broken by brighter glimpses of heaven,
of the hearts of friends, of one's own soul, and of nature.
When one looks seriously at life, one can scarcely help
both smiling and weeping; and it would be utterly
unintelligible to me without God and eternity. It is not
good, however, to think and grub too much about it; one
must undertake some work, even though it be not much. Faith
and work are the only sources of lasting peace.'
In the autumn of 1834 he married again. Until 1833, when his first
contribution to the 'History of the Reformers before the
Reformation'--'John Wessel and his Times'--appeared, he printed
nothing but a few essays and reviews in the _Studien_. That the time
was not a very favourable one for theological authorship would appear
from the circumstance that Perthes, the publisher of 'Wessel,'
large-minded and sympathetic as he was, did not expect it to pay
expenses. It proved, however, a success, and with the portions
subsequently issued, is now esteemed one of the best German monographs
in the domain of Church history.
Early in 1835, Ullmann wrote to a friend: 'In the world of literature
we have at present a complete ebb; nor does there seem any prospect of
our being stirred out of our quiet jogtrot existence. What a blessing
it would be, if some great light were to arise in theology--some
second Luther, or Lessing, or Goethe!' He little thought that the
stirring up that he desired would so soon come; still less that it
would come in the way in which it did come. It was not a new Luther,
or Goethe, or Lessing that arose, but Strauss, with his 'Life of
Jesus.' As is well known, this work, notwithstanding its containing
little that was really new, produced an unexampled sensation in the
theological and ecclesiastical circles of Germany. It called forth a
perfect flood of replies; and among them, Ullmann's, though small in
compass, occupied a very honourable position. He put his finger on the
weak spot in Strauss's book, in the following words of a letter
written to Schwab, immediately after he had taken a first glance at
it:--'All honour to criticism, but in Strauss's case it becomes
plainly unhistorical; for on the view with which he starts, the origin
of Christianity and the rise of men like the Apostle Paul are alike
inexplicable.' His reply consisted of two essays in the _Studien_ of
1836 and 1838, and afterwards published separately, under the title,
'Historisch oder Mythisch.' Next to Neander's 'Life of Jesus,'
Ullmann's treatise is said to have had most influence on Strauss.
Shortly after his second marriage, Ullmann wrote to a friend that he
felt he was becoming every year more and more attached to Halle and
North Germany; and yet, when the call came to him, in 1836, to resume
his position at Heidelberg, he was unable to resist it. He had
previously declined without hesitation to entertain a proposal to
remove to Kiel. Many considerations weighed with him; certainly,
however, not an increase of income, for he positively lost by the
change. The thought of revived intimacy with Umbreit; the being near
to his aged father; the beauty of Heidelberg; perhaps, too, the
sorrows associated with Halle; but, above all, the prospect held out
that his return should be the first step in the renewal of the
theological faculty, were the magnets drawing him homeward. Still he
found it difficult to decide. The Prussian Government did all in their
power to retain him, but he thought duty pointed to a return; and he
accordingly left Halle in the autumn of 1836. He could not always
congratulate himself on the step thus taken. Indeed, a certain feeling
of disappointment almost immediately took possession of him. He
missed especially the large Halle auditories. In Halle he had 100
students; in Heidelberg he began with six, who evinced, moreover,
little interest. His hope of securing Nitzsch as a colleague was
frustrated; the Government soon grew weary of special efforts to
further theological study; the old ornaments of Heidelberg died
rapidly out; and the new generation had neither faith nor refinement,
so that when a professorship was offered him in 1841 at the University
of Bonn he was strongly tempted to accept it, although he had
previously refused one at Tübingen. Indeed, he probably would have
returned to Prussia but for the renewal of the promises to do more for
theology than had been done heretofore, and an autograph letter from
the Grand Duke himself, begging him in the most flattering terms to
remain. Having, soon after this time, purchased a house and garden of
his own, he settled down inwardly and outwardly as a permanent
Heidelberg fixture.
Death again visited his household, taking this time the only remaining
daughter of his first wife, and the only child of his second. In other
respects, however, he grew more content as the years advanced; partly
because the circle of sympathizing friends gradually increased, and
partly because the state of things at the University materially
improved. The advent of new colleagues like Rothe, Hundeshagen,
Schenkel, and Schöberlein, was naturally a source of great
satisfaction.
In 1842, he completed his principal work--'The Reformers before the
Reformation.' It was his last great effort. An intention, long
entertained, of writing a life of Luther, was never realized. He
became too absorbed in the various theoretical and practical questions
that successively agitated the political, theological, and
ecclesiastical worlds, to find time or energy for extensive literary
undertakings; not that he ceased writing, but that what he wrote bore
predominant reference to questions of immediate interest, and appeared
for the most part in the pages of the _Studien und Kritiken_. Two of
the most notable of the essays written at this period are those on the
'Cultus des Genius' and 'Das Wesen des Christenthums.' The former was
directed against Strauss, who, in his 'Vergängliches und Bleibendes im
Christenthum,' having reduced Jesus Christ to the rank of a religious
genius, maintained that the cultus of genius is the only form of
public and common religion the educated of the present generation can
celebrate. The immediate occasion of his 'Sendschreiben,' as he termed
it, was an oration delivered by his friend Schwab in connection with
the inauguration of a monument to Schiller, at Marburg. It has always
been esteemed one of the freshest, completest, and most artistic
products of his pen. Of the geniality of the tone in which he
approached the subject, the following passage will be sufficient
evidence:--
'Our age is an age of distracted spirits. Let us look at
the greatest among them, that ideal of all who really are,
or affect to be, at discord with themselves and God, the
Poet-Lord! A spirit of defiance, of contempt for mankind,
of doubt; a cold breath of hopelessness and destructiveness
pervades his writings. Terror is his domain; the
destruction and misery of mankind are his dwelling place;
he knows little of those fundamental elements of piety,
hope, humility, and self-sacrifice. And yet who dare deny
that he is engaged in a struggle, painful and desperate it
is true, after the highest; that he is filled with
irrepressible longings after the noblest? Because human
life seemed to him so vain and empty, therefore did he
despise it; because he would fain have loved men so much
more truly than he could, therefore did he hate them; and
yet, when at certain moments the primal consciousness of
the heavenly and divine welled up from the depths of his
soul, what energy and vitality did it evince, and what a
mighty influence did it wield!'
There is very much in this essay that deserves carefully weighing by
all who are mixed up with the intellectual struggles of the present
time; and we have noted numerous passages for quotation, but our space
forbids. The second one, on the 'Essence of Christianity,' strikes us
as a scarcely satisfactory answer to the question discussed, though
one's estimate of it naturally depends on one's own point of view. His
course of thought is as follows.
Christianity, although unchangeably one and the same, has been viewed
in different ages in different ways; first as doctrine, then as law,
then as a plan of redemption. If we wish to understand its inmost
essence, and to account for its workings in their entire compass, we
must regard it as a new life, grounded on a complex of divine deeds
and manifesting itself in human works. This life necessarily had a
creative centre; this centre must have been a living one; and as it is
life of the highest kind, the centre must have been a person. The
founder of Christianity was the person in whom was effected that which
all religions have striven after, the perfect union of God and man.
Such being his character, the relation in which he stands to the
religion founded by him, is not the outward one which subsists where
the religion is advanced as a doctrine, or a law, or an institution;
no, he himself embodies in himself the religion he founded, and his
religion is essentially faith and life in him. The essence, the
distinguishing character of Christianity, must accordingly be defined
to be the person of its founder. Many of the ideas unfolded in this
essay have exercised a very great influence on, and are now the common
property of Christendom. Schleiermacher was the first in modern times
to assign to the person of Christ the central position in
Christianity; but Ullmann purified Schleiermacher's teaching on this
subject from its speculative accessories, and made it in the best
sense popular. The wide-spread tendency among the preachers and
religious thinkers of this country to bring the person Christ to the
foreground is, unquestionably, largely traceable to this German
source. What we should blame in it is the vagueness and sentimentalism
by which it is often accompanied or marked. The treatise pleased
neither the critical nor the ultra-orthodox. An attack made on it by
Count Agenor de Gasparin, in the 'Archives du Christianisme' (1851),
called forth a reply from Ullmann which, to our mind, is far more
interesting and valuable than the work it was meant to defend. From
that reply, which appeared in the _Studien_ of 1852, we cannot forbear
making the following quotation, partly for what seems to us its
intrinsic suggestiveness, and partly because it is characteristic of
its author's position. 'The subject in dispute between Count Gasparin
and myself,' says Ullmann,
'May be reduced to three points, the relation first between
the outer and inner rule; secondly, between dogma and love;
thirdly, between the person and the work of the Saviour. As
to the first point, he appeals solely to the outer rule.
Now an outer rule is one that comes to us from without,
with the claim to be the norm of our spiritual life. The
completest embodiment of the idea of the outer rule is
Catholicism. But the Count will say, "The true outer rule
is the Bible, not the Church." But how does he decide which
of these outer rules is the true one? Each is a form of the
same thing; each claims to be the only true form. In
discriminating between them, appeal must clearly be made to
an inner rule of some kind or other. Do I then mean to deny
that the Scriptures are an outer rule? Certainly not! If I
am asked, In what sense, then, is the Bible an outer
rule?--is it in a sense that excludes all reference to an
inner rule, to something higher, deeper, broader than the
written word? I reply, No! In such a sense the Bible does
not itself claim to be an outer rule. That in it which is
outward issued forth from what was originally inward, and
has the tendency, and is designed to become inward again.
In thus becoming inward, it is not intended to operate as
an outward rule, but to bear witness to itself in our inner
life, and secure our free assent. Inward and outward thus
act and react on each other. If the Scripture be a rule, it
is fair to ask whence it came to us? It did not fall from
heaven; it was not written immediately by the hand of God;
it did not exist prior to Christianity. Christianity, on
the contrary, existed first, and the Scripture was the
organ through which it presented itself to, and propagated
itself among men. That which existed before Scripture was
the complex of saving facts, whose centre is Christ and the
Christian life. The function of the Scripture, therefore,
was to be the medium of making known the person and work of
Christ, where the living message could not reach. For this
reason its position and worth are not unconditional. Christ
it is who conditions Scripture and gives it its worth. It
is not the Scripture that gives authority to Christ, but
Christ to Scripture. The proper object of faith is Christ,
not the Scripture; the latter is merely the guide and
educator unto Christ.'
The point of view indicated in the above extract is one that needs
taking to heart and developing by the Christian thinkers of this
country; rightly carried out, it would aid them materially in meeting
the difficulties raised by the critics or opponents of the Bible. The
exposition of the nature and function of mysticism in this same reply
is admirable.
In two things, Ullmann had always differed from the majority of German
theologians, and resembled the majority of English theologians. He
endeavoured to write so as to be intelligible and acceptable to
educated laymen, and aimed at exerting direct practical influence.
Science, including theology, is too frequently pursued and expounded
in Germany in the genuine dry-as-dust style; and theological authors
in particular have been in the habit of completely ignoring the fact
that they lived to serve the Church, and ought therefore to have an
eye to its practical needs in all their enquiries. Hence the
astonishing ignorance of theology that prevails in all but
distinctively professional circles. A better feeling on this point has
been growing up during the last ten years; but any change of practice
has been rather forced on the theologians than spontaneously
adopted--forced on them by the consideration that the laity of their
Church were being utterly robbed of faith by the popular
anti-Christian expositions of philosophy, criticism, and natural
science that abounded. We in this country have erred for the most part
in an opposite direction. Our eye to popularity and practical effect
has had a squint in it. But though our theological investigations have
lacked depth, they have, at all events, been far more widely
appreciated. And that our fault is the less serious of the two is
clear from the fact which is possibly unknown to most--that sound
German theological works like those published by the Messrs. Clark, of
Edinburgh, have had, with few exceptions, a larger circulation in the
English than in their original dress. Still, it were well if both
writers and readers in this country were a little more eager to sound
the deeper depths of the science even at the risk of creating and
meeting with difficulties.
The desire felt by Ullmann to exert a direct influence in Church
matters grew with his years. He longed to see the ideas he had
expounded becoming realities, and thought he could and ought
personally to put hand to the work. There was much, too, in the
circumstances of the ten years that preceded 1853 to draw his mind in
the direction in which it naturally tended. Germany was everywhere in
a state of ferment; especially in the domain of ecclesiastical
affairs, were new and difficult problems constantly presenting
themselves. He was also repeatedly called upon by the authorities of
various German States to supply them with _Gutachten_ on difficulties
that had arisen; and the opinions he gave carried great weight,
because of the sound judgment, thorough conscientiousness, and
reverential liberality which characterised them.
One movement in particular greatly strengthened the inclination to
which we are referring: we mean the secession from the Roman Catholic
Church of Germany that took place under Ronge. He was not, however,
carried away by it, as were many of his contemporaries, who hailed it
as the harbinger of a new era in the history of the Christian Church.
Its insignificance was clear to him from the very first. In a letter
to his friend Schwab, he says sarcastically:--'The reformers of the
nineteenth century have already passed through Heidelberg and
Mannheim, doing a notable amount of eating and drinking and halloeing
by the way.' An essay on the subject, published originally in the
_Studien_ for 1845, and afterwards as a pamphlet, contains much that
bears forcibly on efforts that are now being made among ourselves to
form churches or religious communities without either historical or
doctrinal basis.
In 1853, a post was offered to him, which seemed to meet the wish he
had cherished, to be able to wield direct practical influence in
ecclesiastical affairs. He was called to be _Prälat_ of Baden. This
office or dignity--to which nothing exactly corresponds in our own
country--conferred on its holder a seat in the Upper Chamber of
Deputies, as the representative of the Evangelical Church; but,
singularly enough, did not necessarily make him a member of the Upper
Ecclesiastical Council, so that his direct influence was more personal
than official. Ullmann hesitated at first to sacrifice the quiet and
independence of his University position, and the opportunities of free
action which he largely enjoyed, possessing, as he did, the confidence
of the better clergy throughout the country; but at length he yielded.
Considerations, such as loyalty to his prince, disgust at the
illiberal liberalism that was increasingly gaining the upper hand at
Heidelberg, and perhaps, too, an unconscious stirring of ambition,
influenced his decision; but the main reason, undoubtedly, was the one
to which reference has already been made. Before making this change,
he did as he had done when he consented to remove from Halle to
Heidelberg, and his experience, as a man of a less idealistic turn of
mind might have anticipated, was again the same. He stipulated for
many alterations, both in the principles and methods of ecclesiastical
procedure. Could the programme which he laid before the Grand Duke
have been thoroughly carried out, a great reform would have been the
consequence; but the programme was a professor's programme, and the
professor was not the man to make it a reality. He soon found that
bureaucratic redtapeism, vested interests, indifference, incapacity,
not to mention intrigue and open opposition, were as common in the
higher ecclesiastical as in the political circles, and as difficult to
vanquish.
In 1857, he was appointed to the office of Director of the Upper
Ecclesiastical Council--a position equivalent, in some respects, to
that of the Minister of Cultus in Prussia. The increase of honour
brought an increase of care, but the increase of apparent power did
not bring a corresponding increase of real power. He was associated
with men who, besides being narrow bureaucrats, and having no sympathy
with the higher interests of the Church, looked on Ullmann as a sort
of interloper; the consequence being perpetual struggles and
annoyance, without adequate compensation. Dislike to him personally
began also to spread among the clergy, and the laity charged him with
being a High Church reactionary. His difficulties culminated in the
so-called _Agenden-Streit_, and in the disputes relating to the new
constitution proposed for the Church; the upshot of the whole, being
that, in 1860, he retired from office, broken in health, and almost
broken in spirit.
He was never able to resume independent literary work, though he did
again undertake the direction of the _Studien und Kritiken_, which for
several years had mainly devolved on his colleague Umbreit. After the
death of the latter, in 1860, he associated Dr. Rothe with himself as
joint editor; but, owing to an ever-increasing divergence of their
views--both practical and theoretical--this arrangement terminated in
1864, at which date the journal passed into the hands of its present
editors.
The faith that Ullmann had expounded and defended in life, sustained
him in the decline of health and in the hour of death. In the autumn
of 1863, both bodily and intellectual vigour began seriously to fail;
and on the 12th of January, 1865, he died, surrounded by his family,
and repeating to himself the closing words of that grand, but almost
too moving hymn--
'O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden.'