We have already dwelt upon his two greatest works. We can only barely mention the others. They were, to give them their titles in English—"The History of the Planting and Training of the Christian Church by the Apostles," "Biographies of Julian the Apostate, St. Bernard and St. Chrysostom," "Anti-Gnostikus, Development of the Gnostic System," "Memorabilia from the History of the Christian Life," "Unity and Variety of the Christian Life," numerous essays contributed to religious periodicals, and "Memoirs of the Proceedings of the Berlin Royal Academy of Sciences."
Neander's restless activity doubtless shortened his life, and death overtook him before the work which he had set himself to do was done. He had completed his "General History" only to the middle of the fourteenth century. He died whilst dictating a page of this unfinished history, with the words, "I am weary; I must sleep; good night;" upon his lips. To another famous historian, Bede, it was granted to see, but only just to see, the completion of his labours. When dying, the amanuensis who wrote for him his translation into Saxon of the Gospel according to St. John, said: "Master, there is but one sentence wanting." Bede answered: "Write quickly!" and when the sentence was written, he replied: "Thou hast the truth—consummatum est," and with the Gloria Patri upon his lips, he breathed his last. Neander's work is like a broken column, and yet who shall say it had been better otherwise? Surely not those who believe that "man is immortal, until his work is done."
Neander, Rev. John, thus wrote of his conversion to a sincere acquaintance:—"My dear friend,—Cheerfully do I respond to your call, and as briefly as possible will I relate to you, how wonderfully God has dealt with me; how He, the Almighty God, looked down upon me while I was yet deeply sunk; how He called me, and lifted me up from the dust; and how He brought me out of darkness into His marvellous light; praised be His name. Amen.
"I was born in the year 1811 at Neubrûck, in the province of Posen. My parents were strict Talmudical Jews, my father especially, a zealous, learned Talmudist. They had consecrated me to the office of a rabbi, even while I was at my mother's breast; which office being considered then, as it still is, a most holy vocation. On my having attained my eighth year, and being able to read Hebrew, my father engaged for me a teacher of the Talmud, who resided in the house, and from early in the morning until late at night he laboured with me in the Talmud; now and then he also read the Pentateuch and Jarchi's Commentary with me.
"Until I was twenty-three years old, I studied at different Talmudical schools in Posen, and having attained to that degree which qualified me for the office of a rabbi, I returned to my father's house, where I devoted myself entirely to the study of the Talmud. You are well acquainted with the course of life led at rabbinical schools; I have therefore no occasion to give you here an account thereof. I lived earnestly engaged in this study, because it was my parents' warmest wish; and I moreover hoped thereby to attain to a high position amongst my nation, and flattered myself that I should hereby be qualified for the community of the Chassidim, and consequently to reach the presence of God.
"I plunged myself into the deep labyrinth of rabbinical subtleties and sophistry; entangled myself in a chain, composed of thousands of links of trivialities; exhausted myself in endeavouring to be enlightened on this, or on that matter; but I only got deeper and deeper into the labyrinth; not a ray of light penetrated its dark recesses. At length the employment became exceedingly disagreeable to me; the zeal which was so ardent in my youth (alas! it was a blind zeal), cooled more and more in proportion as it became clearer to me that the words of the different rabbis, the former and latter, are truly not agreeable to God's most Holy Word; and I discovered, that the persuasion that their ways lead to the truth is a vain persuasion.
"I was about twenty-five when with a painful heart I perceived this. I had no firm foundation to rest upon; nothing on which to lay hold. I stood as on broken ground; my heart torn, and nigh to perish with anguish. About this time I was teacher in a town in Germany, where I had above twenty pupils, whom I had to educate, and bring up as men and Israelites; and every Saturday I had to deliver a public lecture on portions of the Old Testament. All this placed me in a terrible condition; I had to preach up and defend that, against which my heart revolted; dissemble I would not, yea, I could not.
"In the early period of my life as a teacher, I was zealous for the rabbinical Judaism of the present day. I tormented and exhausted myself endeavouring, by the works of the law, to lead a life pure and holy before my God; for even when a child I conceived sin to be an abhorrence to God; the thunders of Sinai sounded and resounded in my heart; the mighty word proceeding out of the mouth of the Almighty God, 'cursed is he who does not keep my law,' pressed me down to the ground at that early period of my life; as with flaming letters it was written in my heart, 'God is a holy God! God is a righteous God! who abhors sin; in whose presence, none but those who are pure, and free from sin, and who live for him only, can abide.' From all my toil, however, I found no peace; far, far from me was the rest for which I so much longed.
"I had intercourse with a few individuals who called themselves Christians. I sought them out for the purpose of discussing with them scientific subjects, and now and then to study the Old Testament with them; of these some were students in theology, and others teachers; they used to assail the revealed word of God most terribly. Through them I became acquainted with the criticisms of de Wette, Eichhorn, Dinter, and others, and it was not long that I stood up a zealous defender of modern Judaism; I became a rationalist. We are deceived! exclaimed I to my community, terribly deceived! the Talmud and the Psakim are a tissue of errors, and so forth. Still the storm in my heart did not subside; it continued to roar and to rage; I was not free; before it was chains of superstition that shackled my heart, now those of unbelief; chains forged by profane hands, by such fools as say, 'There is no God.'
"As I looked on these contradictions, and on this work of ungodly men, I trembled, and entered the field against these impudent deniers of God; but with weapons, alas! I knew not at that time, and so I was in a terrible condition. I felt as if closed in by a wall; I panted after the breath of life; I longed after liberty, and hoped that the enigma would solve itself; but far off appeared to me the hand which should lead me into the haven of peace; and the light which I searched after in all the writings of men, proved but darkness; they were broken cisterns, and my soul, which was languishing and nigh to perishing, did not find the water of life. I lay at times the whole night on the hard floor, chastised my body, yearned and cried aloud. The old Jews, to whose knowledge these austerities came, held me for a saint; and the modern Jews said to me: 'Don't be a fool.' Oh! these were years of anguish and terror; I was often nigh to despair. The compassion and grace of God, whom I did not know at that time, alone held me up; the hand of the mighty covenanted God of my forefathers covered me, and it was His eternal love that preserved me from sinking.