local
charity. We made a pilgrimage to see the effect of this group by
moonlight, but, perhaps because it had been too highly praised, we
found the view rather disappointing. But we shall long remember a
walk at evening twilight through this place, when early dusk and
gleaming gas-jets around and within the square had taken the place of
departing sunlight, which still bathed in radiance the gilded figures
surmounting the domes in the clear upper air. Few of the hurrying
multitudes stopped to look upward, but those who did could hardly fail
to gain an impressive lesson from the inspiring and suggestive sight.

Frommel, the good man and attractive preacher who usually officiates
in the Garrison Church, is one of the four Court-preachers, each of
whom is eminent in his way. We sat one morning, with many others, on
the steps to the chancel in the Garrison Church, as the house was
crowded in every part. The spacious galleries were filled with
soldiers in Prussian uniform, and many also were in the pews below.
The soldiers were not there merely in obedience to orders. They
listened intently, for Court-preacher Frommel has a message to the
minds and hearts of men. His oratory is eloquent, scintillating; from
first to last it holds captive the crowded audience. Never have I
witnessed gestures which were so essentially a part of the speaker;
hands so incessantly assisting to convey subtle thought and feeling
from the brain and heart of the orator to the magnetized audience,
whose faces unconsciously testified to a mental and spiritual
uplifting. It was told me that the aged Emperor never travelled from
his capital without the attendance of this chaplain, as well known for
his simple Christian integrity and his ceaseless good deeds as for his
wonderful eloquence.

Trinity Church, where for a quarter of a century Schleiermacher
preached and wrought, is now ministered to by the worthy Dryander and
his colleagues, who faithfully do what they can for the spiritual
welfare of the immense parish. The edifice, of a peculiar model,
stands in a central portion of Berlin, almost under the shadow of the
lofty and famous hotel known as the Kaiserhof. On the Sunday mornings
when Dryander preaches here, aisles, vestibules, and stairways are
crowded until there is no standing-room, much less a seat, within
sight or hearing of the popular preacher. His manner is simple, but
very forceful and sympathetic, his earnest face and voice holding the