Concerts and even the opera and theatre begin early in Germany. Doors

are open usually about half-past five, and the performance seldom

begins later than six or seven. This interferes with the time of the

usual evening meal, so that refreshments at these places are always in

order. One of the most characteristic evenings maybe spent at the

Philharmonie, where the best music is given at popular prices several

times each week. Tickets seldom cost more than fifteen or eighteen

cents, and may be bought by the package for much less. This is a

favorite place with the music-loving Germans, and for many Americans

as well. Nearly all the German ladies take their knitting or

fancy-work. The large and fine hall is filled on these occasions with

chairs clustered around small tables accommodating from two to six.

Here families and friends gather, chat in the intervals, and listen to

the music, quietly sipping their beer or chocolate, and supper is

served in the intermission to those who order it. Smoking is

forbidden, but seldom is the hour after supper free from fumes of

smokers who quietly venture to light their cigars unrebuked unless the

room gets _too_ blue. Many entire families seem to make nightly

rendezvous at these concerts, enjoying the music as only Germans do,

and setting many a pretty picture in the minds of strangers. The

concerts are over by nine or ten o'clock, but the performances at

theatre and opera are frequently not concluded before half-past ten or

eleven, and an after-supper at a _café_ or at home is a consequent

necessity. In one aspect of behavior at concerts, American audiences

may well imitate our German friends. The beginning of every piece of

music is the signal for instantaneous cessation from conversation. I

do not remember ever having been annoyed during the performance of

music, either in public or private, while in Germany, by the talking

of any except Americans or other foreigners. To the music-loving

Germans this is among the greatest of social sins.

III.

EDUCATION.

The buildings of the Berlin University are somewhat scattered, but the

edifice known by this name is situated opposite the Imperial Palace,

in the finest part of the city. The building was once the palace of

Prince Henry, brother of Frederick the Great. It is built around three

sides of a court open southward to the street, guarded by a high

ornamental iron fence. Before it are the sitting statues of the

brothers Humboldt, in fine white marble, on high pedestals. That of

Alexander von Humboldt, in particular, inspired me with profound

admiration often as I passed it. Few statues are more fortunate in

subject, in execution, or in position. The former reception-room of

the palace is now the great _aula_ of the University, and the old

ball-room is transformed into a Museum. The Cabinet of Minerals and

the Collections of the Zoölogical Museum are each among the most

valuable of their kind in existence. The fine park to the north of the

University is open to the public, and is best seen from the rear

entrance in Dorotheen Strasse. Its quiet shades seem quite the ideal

of an academic grove, if that can be in the middle of a great city.

The Astronomical Observatory is upwards of half a mile south, in a

park at the end of Charlotten Strasse; and the Medical Colleges are

mostly to the northwest, near the great hospital.

This University, with its hundreds of professors, and nearly six

thousand students annually in attendance, is now one of the foremost

in Europe. Professors who, like Virchow, Helmholtz, and Mommsen, have

a world-wide reputation, draw many to their classes; but there are

other equally learned specialists with a more circumscribed reputation

and influence. Hundreds of American students tarry each year for a

longer or shorter term of study in Berlin, and it is rapidly gaining

upon Leipsic as a centre for musical study also. No woman is allowed

to matriculate in the University at present, although there are not

wanting German women who, in advance of general public sentiment,

affirm that this ought not so to be.

The Academy of Arts and the Academy of Science are housed in the

conspicuous building opposite the palace of Emperor William I. and

adjoining the University. The Science Academy is organized in four

sections, physical, mathematical, philosophical, and historical, and

has valuable endowments and scholarships. The Academy of Arts has one

section devoted to higher instruction in painting, engraving, and

sculpture, and one to music, eminent specialists in each branch

composing the Board of Direction. The imposing building of the

Institute of Technology, near the extremity of the Thiergarten, has a

fine Technological Museum, and accommodation for two thousand

students. Its organization grew out of the union of two previously

existing institutions for the promotion of architecture and trade. It

has now five sections, in which about one thousand students pursue the

study of architecture, civil engineering, machinery, ship-building,

mining, and chemistry.

Instruction in the science of war is given in all its departments, as

might be expected. The War Office of the Government is in the

Leipziger Strasse, adjoining the Reichstag, with one of the finest of

ancient parks behind it, covering a space equal to several squares in

the heart of the city. This park is elaborate and finely kept, but it

is surrounded by high walls, within which the public is rarely

admitted. Even its existence is unsuspected by most visitors. The

large and elegant building of the War Academy in the Dorotheen Strasse

has a war library of eight hundred thousand volumes and magnificent

accessories. Its object is to educate army officers. There are three

courses of study, promotion from which to the General Staff is made by

examinations. The business of the General Staff is, in war, to

regulate the movements of the army and to attend to the correct

registration of material for war history. In peace, the time of the

officers who compose it is devoted to a profound post-graduate study

of the science and the art of warfare.

An important accessory to the privileges of the University is the

Royal Library, opposite the main building and adjacent to the palace

of Emperor William I. in the Opera Platz. It is possible, though not

common, for ladies to be allowed the privileges of this library,

consisting of over a million volumes and thousands of valuable and

curious manuscripts. A card of introduction to the Director from an

influential source gave me the great pleasure of the use both of the

library and the fine reading-rooms. Considerable time was consumed in

the preliminaries, and there was red tape to be untied, but in general

no unnecessary obstacles were thrown in the way even of a woman. On my

first visit, before the requisite permission to use the library had

been obtained, I was treated as a visitor, and most politely shown the

treasures of the institution by intelligent officials. A young man who

spoke excellent English was given me as a guide by the distinguished

Director-in-Chief. Classification of the books is carried to great

minuteness, and it is but the work of a moment, to one familiar with

its principles, to turn to any book of the million. The apartments are

plain and crowded, although some of the rooms of the adjoining palace

had recently been turned into the library, which is fast outgrowing

its accommodations. The young librarian who acted as our guide was

eager for information concerning American libraries, asking

particularly about the size and classification of the Boston Public

Library. It was a pleasure to respond to one so intelligent and

interested, and I felt sure he would make good use of every scrap of

trustworthy information. He showed us his books with pride, and gave

many interesting particulars. He also displayed to us some of the

treasures kept in glass cases and usually covered from the light. Here

were Luther's manuscript translation of the Bible, Gutenberg's Bible,

the first book printed on movable types, the ancient Codex of the time

of Charlemagne, miniatures, illuminated missals, and other things of

much interest. As my dinner-hour approached I begged off for that day

from the cordially offered inspection of the celebrated Hamilton

manuscripts. It is said that the highest-priced book ever sold was the

vellum missal presented to King Henry VIII. by Pope Leo X., which

brought $50,000. The missal was accompanied by a document conferring

on the King the title of "Defender of the Faith." It is now in this

collection, having been given by King Charles II. to an ancestor of

the Duke of Hamilton, whose manuscripts were purchased by the German

Government in 1882.

The tables of the reading-rooms for periodicals are well filled with

magazines in all languages, and equal politeness is shown by

officials. The apartments are in the second story, reached by a

stairway ascending from a paved court off the Behren Strasse, in the

rear of the Imperial Palace. No lovely spring-time memories are to us

more vivid and attractive than those of the library reading-room, in

the second story of the Library building, looking on the Opera Platz.

Here, among many students of all nationalities from the University, I

was wont to spend long delicious afternoons at a table of my own

choosing, to which attentive officials brought the books of my

selection, and where I was free to turn to books of reference on the

shelves beside me. The room would accommodate perhaps two hundred,

similarly employed. Among those I frequently met there were a German

lady and an American gentleman whom I was so happy as to number among

my friends. Intercourse between our tables was by smiles and nods,

seldom crystallizing into words, but these were not wanted. Four

centuries looked down upon us in portraits from the walls, and forty

centuries were ours in the books below them. As the season advanced,

the room was not full, and the long French windows stood open. Before

them was a balcony facing the Platz, with its fountains, its

shrubbery, and its flowers. The breath of spring and early summer was

perfumed by mignonette and English violets, as it floated away from

the murmur and the brightness of the brilliant scenes beyond up

through every alcove of this quiet scholar's retreat.

Books in English, as in other languages, are many and finely selected,

though some departments are incomplete. A month's preparation here for

a trip to Russia and the far North was one of unalloyed pleasure; and

many volumes from the library were, under the rules, kindly permitted

to reach and remain on the study-table of my own room while I needed

them. The department of Scandinavian travel was, however, much more

scantily represented than Russia. Long shall I have reason to remember

with gratitude the generous "open sesame" and the rich privileges of

this library, which, more than most things that enjoy the epithet,

truly deserves the name Royal.

As no woman can enter the Berlin University as a student, neither is

it practicable for a lady, either as student or visitor, to find

access to the _Gymnasia_, which, in the German sense of this term, are

somewhat in the line of our American colleges. My windows looked into

those of a fine new building across the street, devoted to the

instruction of German youth. In through its doors there filed, every

week-day morning, long lines of German boys and young men for the

various grades of instruction; and a natural desire arose in the mind

of an old teacher to "visit the school." But on application to an

influential friend long resident in Germany, for a note of

introduction to the Director of the _Gymnasium_, his hands were lifted

in unaffected astonishment at the nature of the request, "A woman in a

boys' school! oh, never! Ask me any other favor but that! Oh, it is

_impossible_!" A German lady was more hopeful. She was intimate with

the wife of the Director, and thought she could gain for me the

coveted permission. But weeks lengthened into months, and still the

right to enter even the enclosure sacred to the education of German

boys was not obtained. So I studied the educational system at first on

paper, and found many facts of interest. Attendance at the common

schools is compulsory, all children of both sexes being required to

attend, in separate buildings, from the ages of five to fourteen.

Beyond this, the High School offers a training for practical life and

business, and the _Gymnasium_ a classical and scientific training

leading to the special studies of the University. The course of study

in the _Gymnasia_ is similar to those of our colleges, some of the

studies of the latter, however, being relegated to the University. A

boy at nine years of age enters the _Gymnasium_ for a course of nine

years, in which Latin and Greek receive the chief emphasis. The same

great division of opinion as to the comparative merits of linguistic

and scientific training which exists in the rest of the world,

agitates the German mind. The _Gymnasium_ with its classical training

is the child of the present century, and its growth all along has been

disputed by those who claim greater advantages from a curriculum which

lays chief stress on science, omitting the Greek and half the Latin,

for a part of which modern languages are substituted. This has given

rise to what are called the Real Schools, corresponding to our

Scientific Schools. These receive their inspiration from the people

rather than the learned classes, and are regarded as still on trial.

Meantime, until quite recently, the graduates of the _Gymnasia_ have

had a monopoly of competition for positions as teachers and

opportunity to practise the learned professions. A recent change

allows graduates of the Real Schools to compete for teacherships. The

graduates of _Gymnasia_ only are allowed to enter the professions of

Medicine and Law. The Prussian _Gymnasia_ are about two hundred and

fifty in number, and the Real Schools somewhat over one hundred. In

point of military service, these schools are all on an equal footing,

a pupil who completes a course of six years in either being obliged to

serve but one year with the colors. It is said that a large number of

those who graduate in these schools do so for the sake of thus

shortening their term of military service. I was present at an evening

entertainment offered by the older students of one _Gymnasium_ to the

friends of the school. It was a rendering, in Greek, of the Antigone

of Sophocles, with considerable adjuncts of scenery, costume, and

Greek chorus. A brief outline of the play in German was distributed to

the audience. For the rest, a knowledge of Greek was the only key to

what was said by experts to be well done.

But if this one personal glimpse of the scholarship of the higher

schools for boys was all that could be obtained, I was more fortunate

in finding access to the schools for girls. Not, however, without

painstaking. It is by no means a matter of course for any visitor to

knock at the door of a school-room for a call upon the school. The

coming of visitors is uniformly discouraged; the teachers saying that

the pupils are not used to it, and that their attention is thereby

diverted from their studies. A lady of my acquaintance, resident for

some years in Berlin, asked permission to visit the school which her

little daughter attended, and was refused. A professional educator

from abroad, especially a gentleman, if properly introduced, will find

little difficulty in obtaining access to the schools; but a lady, who

wishes to go unofficially, will need persistence and courage before

she effects her object.

A friendly acquaintance with two German teachers smoothed the way,

perhaps opened it, to a privilege I had hitherto sought in vain. At

supper one evening I made an engagement to meet one of these ladies in

the school to which she belonged, early the next morning. In the short

Berlin days of mid-winter one must rise by candle-light to be in time

for even the second hour of school, if living a half-hour distant. In

one of the largest hotels of Berlin I saw, the week before Christmas,

a little fellow, scarcely tall enough for seven years, departing for

school in the morning, with his knapsack on his back, an hour before

there would be daylight enough for him to study by. As he sturdily

went forth from the elegant rooms and brilliantly lighted corridors

into the cold gray dawn and the snowy streets towards the distant

school, I said, "There is the way to train Spartans!" The schools

begin at eight o'clock for girls, at seven for boys, though many go at

later hours. Those who are not able to pay for instruction attend the

"common schools," where tuition is free; but those who can must pay at

the rate of from about five to seven dollars per quarter, in the

schools denominated "public."

The school to which I went occupies a handsome modern brick edifice,

and accommodates eight hundred girls. It was ten o'clock, when the

recess which follows the stroke of each hour (ten minutes) is doubled,

in order to give time for the "second breakfast"--bread and butter

taken in basket or bag--by both teachers and pupils, to supplement

the rolls and coffee partaken of by candle-light in winter, which form

the first breakfast. The teacher whom I knew was waiting for me in the

corridor, where the busy hum of hundreds of young voices filled the

air. Handsome and substantial stone staircases fill the central

portion of the edifice, lighted by a skylight, by windows where a

transverse corridor reaches to the street, and by ground glass in the

double doors leading to some of the class-rooms. It was a dark

morning, and so the corridors were dim enough. Most of the pupils are

in school from eight to one o'clock. Some of the younger ones come at

nine, or even ten, and go home at twelve. I was told that instruction

as to what to do in case of fire in the building is carefully given,

but saw no fire-escapes, except the stairways. There was provision for

ventilation in the class-rooms,--a register near the floor admitting

pure warm air, and another near the ceiling giving exit to impure air.

But this mode was quite insufficient to secure good air in most of the

rooms. I was conducted to the Director of the school, without whose

permission I could not enter. He was standing in the corridor on the

third floor, surrounded by several girls, with whom he was talking in

the manner of a _paterfamilias_,--an aged man, with a shrewd but

kindly face. I was introduced, and the object of my visit stated.

Bowing and leading the way to his office, he made a slight demurrer as

to the profit I should reap, but freely accorded the permission, after

making an entry, apparently from my visiting-card, in his register. My

friend again took me in charge, and conducted me to another room,

where I was introduced to the "first instructress," and to five or six

other lady teachers, all of whom sat, in wooden chairs, around a plain

wooden table, partaking of their luncheon. Two or three good

photographs--one of the Roman forum--were in frames on the walls; a

large mirror and a set of lock-boxes gave the teachers toilet

accommodations; while baskets of knitting and other belongings bespoke

this as the retiring-room of the lady teachers. The chief of these, a

kind-faced matronly woman, spoke English imperfectly; but several of

the younger ones spoke it very well, and one or two were of charming

manners and appearance.

From a schedule hanging on the wall, I was shown the names and number

of recitations for the day. "What would I like to see? How long can I

remain? Will I come again to-morrow?" If the permission to visit a

school be often difficult to gain, once received, it covers every

recitation, and as many hours or days as the visitor chooses to devote

to it. I was first conducted to a recitation in arithmetic. The room

contained accommodations for fifty pupils, and the seats were filled

by girls about thirteen or fourteen years of age. Wooden desks and

seats (the outer row for three pupils each, the central for four

each), a slightly raised platform for the teacher, with a plain desk

and two chairs, several cases of butterflies and beetles, on the walls

a map or two, a small blackboard behind the teacher's desk, in

grooves, so that it may be elevated or lowered at pleasure, make up

the furniture of the room. The light, as in every room I visited, was

from one side, to the left of the pupils. The teacher--a man with gray

hair and beard, but young enough as to vivacity and enthusiasm, and a

gentleman in manners--bowed me to the chair he offered, and with a

wave of the hand bade the children, who had risen on our entrance, be

seated. The lesson was wholly oral and mental. Addition, subtraction,

and multiplication were carried on by means of numbers, given out with

so much vivacity and judgment that every eye was fastened on the

teacher and every mind alert. Most of the right hands were raised for

answer to every question, with the index finger extended; and the

pupil selected was chosen now here, now there, to give it audibly.

Rank was observed from left to right, the lower changing places with

the higher whenever a failure above and a correct answer below paved

the way. Large numbers were often used; for example, adding or

subtracting by sixties, and multiplying far beyond twelve times

twelve,--all apparently with equal facility. The second half of the

hour was devoted to a visit to a class of younger girls. Another

arithmetic class, taught by a younger gentleman; the pupils were in

the eighth class, or second year at school,--age about seven. The room

accommodated the same number, and was lighted and furnished in a

similar way. Here figures were written on the blackboard by the

teacher. The early part of the lesson had evidently been in addition;

now it was subtraction, which was carefully explained by the pupils,

and the hour closed by a few mental exercises in concert. In the ten

minutes' recess which followed, I again chatted with the teachers in

their private room. Thirty teachers are employed to teach these eight

hundred girls,--twenty gentlemen and ten ladies. I said that in

America the lady teachers largely outnumbered the gentlemen. The lady

with whom I was conversing replied that the upper classes in girls'

schools were all taught by gentlemen, as the ladies were not prepared

to pass the required examinations for these positions. "The gentlemen

have a course in the _Gymnasium_ about equal to that in your

colleges," she said, "and then pursue a course in the University, in

order to fit themselves for teachers." "The expense of this is too

much for ladies?" I inquired. "Yes; and they have not the opportunity.

They are not admitted to the University of Berlin, and then--women

have not the strength for such hard studies"! "How many recitations do

you hear?" I asked. "The lady teachers, twenty-two per week; the

gentlemen, twenty-four." "The salaries of the gentlemen are higher?"

"Oh yes, much higher. They have families to support; and then, the

ladies are unsteady,--they often marry."

I was now conducted to the upper division of the first class; girls in

the last of the nine years' course of study,--ages about fourteen to

sixteen. This was the only class reciting in English, which within a

few years has been made a part of the required course, as well as

French. They were reading in little paper-covered books, in German

text, the _Geisterseher_ of Schiller, and translating the same into

English. The teacher was an English gentleman. He wrote occasionally a

word on the blackboard, when he wished to explain or impress upon the

memory a term or a synonym,--as, for instance, "temporarily," and the

words "soften," "mitigate," "assuage,"--and corrected such mistakes in

translation as "guess to" for "guess at," and "declaration" for

"explanation."

The second division of this first class was in German history. Several

of the pupils had historical atlases open before them, which covered

the history of the world from the most ancient times to the present,

prepared with that excellence which has made German maps famous. The

compendium used for a class-book was a brief record of dates and

events in Roman type, which is gradually but surely superseding the

old German letters. The teacher talked of the quarrel between popes

and emperors in the Middle Ages, and especially of the wars of the

Investitures. Passing through the corridor after this recitation, I

inquired the use of a library there, consisting of several hundred

volumes, and was told it was for the use of the teachers; and that

there was also one for the use of the pupils, from which they might

draw books to read at home,--"some amusing and some instructive."

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