A Treatise, composed at Heidelberg the 29th of October, 1840; and

styled, a "Little Memorial and Gift of Friendship, from Friend von

Diehl, Grand-ducal Privy Counsellor of Baden, and State Counsellor of

the Mysteries of Heidelberg, to such of his friends as love the

so-called Strictly Right, out of which every thing reasonable by

degrees continually developes itself."

Now an author, who sees himself busy at his writing-table upon a

composition, has to give to them that, as an inoculation of every

thing, whatever it may be, which he has in his spirit consecrated to

all worthiness, and so that it shall not be difficult to hear and

understand, since it contains many incredible things. As he never in

his time was so far advanced that he could learn to understand so much

as he was striving after, as he was so poor, so very poor, therefore he

was obliged to thrust back every thing of that kind to the period when

finite things shall no longer be finite. It is to be desired that his

inquiries should be continued either by himself, or by others of the

student class who go forth as teachers, accompanied by the necessary

academical freedom, that is without all enactments and restraint. Let

the pen have its course, as his thoughts for the most part have

unfolded themselves, the spirit and the eye running through the right

hand, and his ideas thus walking forth upon paper. Spirit, eye, and

hand! hands pressed together! then draws the eye every thing so through

it, as the sucking babe draws milk, that it must burst forth in some

shape, as that milk in the babe, if obstructed in its natural current,

will spring through in eruptions. But the Princes should take care of

this, who have power, to advance the wise, so that they may be able to

live, that they may be safe from the claws of an old wife's company,

and may not be thrown about as feathers in the world, called also the

great city street,--that in the University cities those of the grade of

witches may not wash away all that belongs to the liberty of the duel

in general. Especially shines this out of the Bible, out of the

Testament--where the Dutch prescribe the gospels as well as the

epistles, like physic, that they may preach upon it as the Bauers to

their servants, when they have cleared out their stables, "You must

make a bee-hive; set about it, make it quickly with a dung-fork and the

handle of a flail." Preaching such nonsense do the Dutch divines wring

themselves out as an old woman wrings out a wet cloth, yielding only

that which men have no occasion for, and without which they would be

more of men than with it. Thus money and the necessaries of life are

continually decreased, or rather are rolled out thinly till they

overspread and cover up the spirit of man, as a surgeon spreads out his

plaster to the extent of two and twenty yards.

Two and twenty years have I laboured incessantly to defeat these drifts

of the old wives, for the good of all states, but the more I labour the

more enemies spring up. Still must I of necessity stand up for the

princes, since that dwells in me which man styles duty. During the half

of that two and twenty years, I have written treatises for the guidance

of students of jurisprudence and criminal law, adapted to all cases and

occasions, after which, however, no man inquires. Students diverge

continually farther and farther from my views of law, being influenced

by the city clergy, who warn them against them through means of the

post. I live in privacy with the great Director of the whole world; yet

have the malicious city old wife gossips calumniated me. And this led

them to the base action, for many a base deed is brought about through

medicaments. The most grievous evils not only arise but continue--I

will point out only a few of them. To injure a man in his eyesight

irreparably,--to damage his hearing,--to cause his hair to fall

off,--to induce epilepsy,--to make his very spirit stand still! Instead

of that office of important study to which I believe myself advanced,

thus came I to sit there where inexpressible pains are given, which

make every thing in man, that is of the nature of man, cry out. But the

hardest of all was to become a maniac! To keep off this, I wrote from

nine to ten thousand sheets, drawn from life itself, to throw out and

express the very kernel of knowledge, which must yet be printed. But I

am so poor, that I am always on the point of starvation; for many years

I have belted myself more tightly in. I lodge at Widow Ueberlin's on

the Freisenberg, who could, if she pleased, from the Great Frederick of

Prussia, turn herself into the Grand Turk himself. She was not,

however, aware of this; therefore, I assumed the crown of human misery,

and wrote this year six hundred and fifteen hefts (each about six

sheets of paper). Think only of the diligence in my dwelling!

It were well if a learned man in Baden would set himself upon a

winter's work, in writing out my manuscripts, in translating them, and

sending them to the press, and to make an extract for each faculty, of

such matter as relates to them. I am so poor that I am quite unable to

defray the cost of such printing.

I am the life--I have rent the great secret out of the bosom of Nature.

I am the sun, the love, the goodness, a secret that the common class of

men have to thank the learned for. From year to year I have continually

learned more thoroughly the contents of the surface of the earth. I am,

however, only allowed to divulge certain glimpses of this knowledge,

and I show it to true friends, wearing knowledge at my side, as the

soldier his sabre.

The true Friend Frederick von Diehl.

* * *

Poor Hofrath von Diehl! A more melancholy and affecting history than

his is not readily to be conceived; and amid the ravelled skein of his

ideas, the memory of his grievous wrongs stands clear and imperishable.

It would be difficult to refer to language more vividly descriptive of

the surprise and anguish, and despair, to which a human spirit may be

subjected by the base wantonness of others, than that which breaks

forth amid the strange wanderings of this document of his. The injured

eyesight and hearing--the hair burnt from his head as by lightning--the

shock of astonishment when he finds himself, instead of advanced to the

post of honour which had been delusively promised him, thrust "there

where inexpressible pains are inflicted; pains which make every thing

in man which is of the nature of man cry out;" a prey also to epilepsy,

and above all to madness. Poor fellow! yet amid the smarting sense of

his irreparable injuries he retains all his own humanity of feeling. He

cherishes no hatred against mankind. His heart is sound; that is not

injured, though his brain is; and he employs himself through the long

years of his mental eclipse, with the perpetual hope and endeavour to

benefit, not only his friends, his town, his countrymen, but all

mankind. It is well that the gallant student in the spring-days of

his career, while he runs on the green and gay path of Burschen-life,

is kind to him. That he makes daily amends to him, for the crimes

and follies of those in a day gone by. May the brave youths of

Ruperto-Carolo long cherish this kind feeling to the unfortunate

Hofrath! may they smoothen the few years of his earthly course to him!

While he lives in the dreams of literary fame and of boundless

philanthropy, may they blunt the tooth of that poverty of which he so

painfully complains; and, finally, may the brave hands of the sons of

the Muses, one day lay that weak but worthily-meaning head, on which

some of their precursors heaped wantonly such a fearful calamity,

peacefully and honourably at rest.

* * *

But amongst those who derive principally from the students their

support, we must not forget the respectable, discreet, and amiable

woman, who is to be found stationed every day at the corner of the

university platz. Here the worthy Frau Gottliebin displays her

treasures for sale,--cherries, grapes, plums, whatever fruit in fact

the season affords, and of the finest quality, separated into small

baskets-full. Every change of the season marks itself upon her stall by

the apparition of some new luxury, and at Easter it is gay with

many-coloured Easter-eggs for the children. In Germany, it is said,

"sixty kreutzers make also a gulden," and the wisdom of this proverb

has proved itself on this good woman. She not only possesses a small

house of her own, but her son has studied at the university, taken his

degree, and is already advanced to the dignity of a curate in the

church; yes, the worthy old dame yet hopes, and that soon, to be able

to congratulate him as pastor of a parish. Her daughter is married to a

surgeon in the Upper Rhineland, and when from time to time the stand of

the old lady is vacant, in front of the well-known Pfalz-hotel, nobody

is afraid that it is because she is ill, or because the weather is too

severe for her; for summer and winter, in the hottest sunshine and the

bitterest frost, there she is at her post,--no, there is a new

grandchild expected, and Frau Gottliebin has disappeared to pay a visit

to her daughter. She has numbered many of the present teachers of the

university amongst her customers, and takes a lively interest in the

members of the institution. She is also very free with well-meaning

advice when the course of life of any of the sons of the Muses is not

to her satisfaction. The stranger who has not tasted of her wares we

may well advise to cast an observant eye on her stall as he passes it,

and can promise him, if he chooses from it, a luxurious refreshment.

CHAPTER IX.

THE PRIVATE LIFE OF THE STUDENT.

The reader has hitherto only seen the students in their public life.

Their private life, in comparison with their public and out-of-door

proceedings, withdraws itself so much from general observation, that it

is not likely that it should so soon, or so forcibly, strike the

general eye, as that does by its bold and prominent features. Yet we

are confident that we can present to the reader many an interesting

picture if he will allow himself to accompany us into the lodging of

one of our heroes. "In God's name," Mrs. Trollope will exclaim, "what

are you going to do? Are you mad, that you would seek the bear in his

den?" We can, however, only beseech the foreigner not to be deterred by

the often wild exterior and carriage of the student, from paying a

visit to one or another of them. Without further hesitation or

precaution he may follow us, and make himself certain of a friendly

reception, especially from the South German. Should any one yet be

incredulous, let him only inquire of Mr. Traveller, who has now resided

half a year in Heidelberg, and made his first acquaintance with the

student-world in this manner. One of my friends told me that he had

introduced him to the student Freisleben. "In his smoking-room?" asked

I, in astonishment. "Yes; why not? The English," said he, "have strong

nerves, and I wished to fortify his against all weaker impressions, in

fact, to make him smoke-proof; an experiment which I hope even the

learned Mrs. Carleton herself would not disapprove of."

"Well, and how did he like it?" inquired I farther.

"We had scarcely made our escape out of the snow-storm of a wild

December day into the house, when the Englishman remarked that the

whole abode had a peculiar look, which he could not for his life

describe or particularize, but which had a strong smack of the student.

I had purposely brought him into a genuine student _kneip-house_, and

in the entrance, that white painted board on the wall, on which, with

their respective numbers, hung the keys of the different rooms, caught

his eye. The narrow passage and steps by which we made our way through

the house appeared strange to him. We at length reached the right door;

I opened it; the Englishman looked eagerly in; but imagine his

amazement as he saw nothing but a monstrous cloud of smoke. 'Where are

we?' he demanded. An instant yell thundered through the smoke towards

us--a whip whistled in the air, and a tremendous voice cried, 'Down!

down!' 'We shall get no good here,' said the Englander. 'Courage,

courage,' said I, and we pressed forward into the midst of this

smoke-vomiting volcano. In the meantime a portion of the reek had made

its escape by the open door; it became tolerably light, and we saw the

great spaniel, who had withdrawn himself howling into his basket, and

friend Freisleben standing with his riding-whip in his hand."

"That confounded dog of mine--the uncourteous rascal," said he, "does

not understand how he ought to receive a stranger. Mr. Traveller, it

rejoices me to see you in my abode. My friend has already made me

acquainted with your name." He requested us to be seated, and offered

us each a pipe, which he himself had well supplied with tobacco, in the

kindest manner.

"But, my God," whispered the new guest to me, "every thing looks here

pretty much as with other well-bred people. All so human. Ah! I am very

sorry that I am so undeceived." Yet a closer observation conducted the

sufficiently quick eye of the Englishman to the various peculiarities

there, and served to enrich his sketch-book with sundry notices, which

he has been obliging enough to communicate to us.

The student knows how to live here. He has fitted up his room very

commodiously. The sleeping-room certainly is somewhat small; often,

rather an alcove, in which, besides his bed, his wardrobe, his

dressing-table, and a large trunk, there is little to be seen. But one

might almost pronounce his sitting-room comfortable, were it not

distinguished by rather too much of a lyrical disorder. Books, pipes,

rapiers, clothes, coffee, and writing apparatus, are somewhat too

little assorted; and the stove, standing in the room itself--but

Germans in this respect know no better. Yet one must admit that those

little machines, which look like an adiaphory, between a Roman urn and

a German beer-jug, and which one might take by the end of the long pipe

and carry with one along the streets, are very well adapted to the

needs of the student, who commonly only wiles away an hour at home, and

then hastens again to the college, since they quickly warm the room,

and as quickly let it cool again. They are readily made hot, so that

you may easily when at full heat light your pipe at them.

There are not wanting tables, chairs, a commode, a writing-table and

book-shelves, and a sofa that is pretty well used. Our host, at first

sight looked, to my fancy, somewhat Turkish, as at our morning visit he

sat enjoying his pipe and coffee, in a coloured plaid morning-gown and

showy slippers. But the legs--no, they were not crossed in Turkish

fashion, but stretched out at will from the sofa in true English style,

and seemed to feel themselves very much at home in the room. He had a

handkerchief thrown loosely round his neck, and the small, round, and

embroidered cap sat not inelegantly on his head. These caps, as I

learned in course of conversation, are termed _cerevis_, or beer-caps.

What especially struck me in the apartment, were the various

decorations which adorned the walls in gay rows, and the signification

of which our host politely explained to me. Upon one wall was displayed

a long line of profiles, all under glass, and in small gilt frames. A

coloured Chore-band falling from above, wound about them, and

comprehended them, as it were, in one great family. "These," said he,

"are in memory of the friends who have contributed to embellish my six

semesters at the university:" and I learned that it was the practice,

especially of those who belonged to the same Chore, mutually to honour

each other with those little likenesses.

"We have here," said he, "in Heidelberg, the Herr Muenich, who executes

these things in first-rate style, and derives almost a livelihood alone

from this branch of business. It is the same in other places. I have

already passed some time in Jena, Berlin, and Bonn, and have enjoyed

the friendship of many a brave Bursche. There, you see the views of

many a city through which I have travelled. They will to the latest

hour yield me delightful recollections." These, with the well-executed

portraits of many professors, filled a second wall. Amongst them

proudly displayed themselves several printed duplicates of the doctoral

diplomas of his friends.

"And whose likeness is this which hangs in the midst?" I asked. "That,"

he replied, "is the portrait of our famous Pawk-doctor, which cannot be

wanting in any kneip."

On the third wall I beheld pipes of all forms and sizes, from the

meerschaum to the clay pipe; and my polite host promised me at the next

opportunity, to give me a lecture, as he expressed it, on these

articles of furniture. My eye was now caught by the garniture which I

beheld about the looking-glass. It was hung round with ribands of

various colours, and above it appeared the remains of garlands. As I

noticed them my host said--"See, those are flowers out of the mourning

garlands which deck many a departed friend who sleeps in the cool

earth; which we carefully preserve."

"And the ribands with the many inscriptions and the dates?" I asked.

"Those," said he, "are my Chore-brothers; and the date indicates the

foundation-day of our _Verbindung_."

On the fourth wall were to be seen a Schlaeger with the Chore-colours; a

chore-cap and a guitar, with several coloured rosettes. There stood

also a little table, and upon it apparatus for drinking and smoking; a

large Deckel-glass with a lid, having upon it an engraved inscription,

"Traumansdorf to his Freisleben, 18th July, 1838;" an elegant little

casket with tobacco, a spill-vase, a study lamp, a vessel denominated

the Pope, to receive the ashes of the tobacco on emptying the pipe, and

an incombustible spill, or Fidebus, a new discovery, and certainly one

of the most useful of the nineteenth century. This consists of a small

strong coloured glass tube, which is partly filled with spirits of

wine, and closed with a cork; through which a wire is thrust, and to

the bottom end of which wire is secured a small knob of wood wrapped in

cotton wool. This wire has a ring at the top, by which it is pulled

out, and the knob ignited at the lamp when it is wished to light a

pipe--a convenient piece of machinery, and also forming an ornament to

the table.

As 1 continued to observe these mysteries, my host took up the guitar,

and touching the strings, sung,--

He who can neither drink, love, nor sing,

How scorneth the Bursche so mean a thing!

"I can guess, and therefore ask not," I observed, "what your rosettes

mean." "It was a delightful August ball," said he to his friend

significantly. "And this glass, too, I see, is the gift of a friend," I

added. "Certainly, you are quite to be envied." "That is nothing

extraordinary," he remarked; "it is the custom amongst students to

compliment each other with, or to dedicate to each other, as we express

it, such things. The inscriptions which you see on you pipe-heads, on

those ribands, on this glass, we term dedications. They bear the name

of the giver, and the day which is the most distinguished in our lives

through some remarkable event, on which day such a gift is generally

given. Let us add to the so-called gifts the silhouettes and the sword,

and you have altogether what the student is accustomed to dedicate to

his fellow-student. But be seated. The coffee will be cold, and my pipe

is actually gone out. If you will have a morning-gown, I have another,

and I am always sorry to see any one squeezed up in an uncomfortable

schnippel (student term for a dress coat). Would you think that a

German had so much regard to comfort? Ha! ha! Much more than you

imagine. Fancy yourself before an English fireplace (opening the door

of the stove); since, without that, I know you don't feel yourself

comfortable; and that we also are aware of the pleasantness of a

fireplace, is shown by our frequently having the stove open into the

room. And do you know that we have an equivalent for your word

_comfort_, of which you are so proud?"

"If you will tell me what it is," I answered, "I will believe it; but I

have hunted through every dictionary for it in vain, since your words

behaglich, gemuethlich, bequem, don't express the actual thing."

"Pomadig," cried he, laughing; "that's the lordly word! but it is only

one of our _termini technici_, and is not yet sanctioned by Adelung."

"I will swear from this day forward," I exclaimed, "that the students

are _pomadig_." "Have pomade," said he, correcting me, "for we are no

pomadenhengste. When I am laid up some day," he continued, "I will make

you a vocabulary of our terms with their synonymes, and shall

felicitate myself thereby on contributing to a more perfect knowledge

of the German language in England. You will take care to publish it?"

"Assure yourself of that," I replied.

"But what has the Boot-fox brought?" asked my host of his friend, who

during this time had been in conversation with a queer-looking fellow.

"A duplicate diploma from Schmidt," he replied. "What has the old boy

then bitten of the sour apple at last!" "Yes! he has worked like a

dragon--he has _geoxed_ tremendously during the last year, and has now

taken the highest degree."

Freisleben sings:--

Therefore lets he fall a tear,

And thinks--ah! but youth was dear!

And gives me an examen summa cum laude.

"I am very curious," said I, "to know who the man was that walked in

without knocking, and whom you styled Boot-fox. He looked like a

servant that, instead of livery, a man has stuck into a student's coat;

and what a cap he had on! And besides that, he had such a curious voice

that one could have thought it belonged to some other person, or that

somebody else was in the room when he spoke."

"Ha! ha! I will explain that to you. This odd fellow belongs to a class

of ministering spirits who live entirely by the students. We dub them

Boot-foxes, because they clean our boots and clothes. They are bound to

run also on our commissions, and must figure in processions and public

pageants. As the poor devil must turn out very early in the mornings,

his voice snaps and cracks huskily from the effects of the raw air,

like that of a youth in the transition-state from a hobbledehoy to a

man, till by degrees it balances itself in one key. For the rest, he is

a respectable father of a family, and his wife is generally a

washerwoman for the students."

"All that is easy enough to understand," I replied. "Why do you call

him a boot-fox?"

"Ah, I forgot to observe, that in earlier times the foxes, who, as you

know are students just come from the schools, and whom we yet play many

a joke upon, were frequently obliged, very improperly, to perform those

offices which our Famulus now discharges, and thence this name dates

itself."

"I have made myself acquainted," said I, "with a new species of foxes.

The other day I heard a professor spoken of as a school-fox."

"Yes, yes; this name is given contemptuously to one of those teachers

who, without penetrating into the spirit of knowledge, turns into his

scholars, by hogsheads, the unfermented deluge of material, and reckons

a man learned if he has only piled up in his hollow skull a chaos of

things merely gathered by rote. God be praised, these scarecrows become

scarcer from day to day. Yet, alas! there lies in the German word

_Gelehrter_, the idea of one who has been _taught_ without our being

able to say whether he has actually _learned_. The French say not _les

enseignes_ but _les savants_; and the English not _the taught ones_.

but the _learned_."

"But," said I, "your _Gelehrter_, of the present day, we may also

certainly style the learned."

"By all means; and, thank God, but with few exceptions."

"Knowest thou," asked friend Eckhardt, "whence comes the term

school-fox?"

"Not clearly?"

"Then hear! M. Just Ludwig Brismann, born at Triptis, in Voiglande, who

had been schoolmaster in Hof, Zwickau, and Naumburg, and who died

Professor of Greek in Jena, on the 19th of August, 1585, was accustomed

to wear a greatcoat lined with fox-skin. This sort of clothing, which

he had been used to wear before he came to live at Jena, he still

continued to sport there. The students in Jena looked upon this

raiment, which was then quite out of date and very singular, as so odd

that they made game of it, and those of them who had previously known

him as schoolmaster, dubbed him School-fox. Thence sprung the name of

school-foxery, which comprehends every thing pedantic, contemptible,

and degrading."

"And may I ask," I added, "what you pay this precious Bursche for his

important services? I ask, since I think of staying here this winter,

and would therefore willingly enlighten myself on all matters of

housekeeping."

"He receives a gulden (twenty-pence English) monthly."

"A servant for a pound a-year! Was the like ever heard!"

"You must recollect," said Freisleben, "that we are for the rest of the

day attended by the house-besom," the student phrase for housemaid, who

also in Berlin is styled _schlavin_, or she-slave.

"Hast thou heard the anecdote," interrupted Eckhardt, "of Schmidt's

answer to our boot-fox the other morning?"

"No; let us hear it."

"The Famulus came very early to Schmidt's bedside, and said, very

laconically--'the Geheimrath Forst is dead to-night. Have you any other

commands?' 'Yes,' answered Schmidt, still heavy with sleep, 'I command

the Geheimrath Langsam (a very rich and miserly old gentleman) to die

too, and to make me his heir.'"

"Famously answered!" said Freisleben; "but, Mr. Traveller, you would

know more of our household regulations. Our House-Philistine must

provide for all our domestic necessaries, bringing in the account

monthly, which, however, we are not obliged so very exactly to pay.

They furnish us with wood, lights, etc. Breakfast we commonly brew for

ourselves, in its proper machine. For the lodging, consisting of two

rooms, we pay perhaps from thirty to forty gulden, and the house-besom

receives besides, each semester, two kronen thaler--nine shillings,

English."

"Upon my word, you live right reasonably in Heidelberg."

"Not quite so much so as you imagine. If you take into the account the

expense of the college lectures, you cannot well, at least pleasantly,

live under 800 or 1000 gulden. There are universities where you may

live much cheaper, but few where you can live so agreeably as here. You

know how Lichtenberg has divided the sciences. So I might here divide

the universities into such as where a man may live cheaply and well, to

which class Munich and Vienna particularly belong; where he may live

cheap and badly, as in many of the smaller universities, particularly

Halle, which affords only nutriment for the hungerers after knowledge;

where he may live well and somewhat expensively, as at Heidelberg; and

finally, where he may live dearly and ill, of which the great Berlin is

an example. I speak here only of the material life, apart from which,

every university has its peculiarities in many respects; in short, has

its own _ton_. When you have learnt thoroughly to understand

Heidelberg, and then afterwards visit other German universities, what a

variety will you not find."

"I would gladly learn," said I, "the differences of these various

universities which you say are so characteristic. It is a very

interesting subject."

"But a long one," said my friend, "which we must reserve for another

occasion. But," turning to Freisleben, he added, "I forgot to tell you

something which the Boot-fox has communicated."

"What is it?" asked Freisleben.

"The Widow Mutch begs that she may be allowed to speak with thee."

"And what wants she?"

"O, she creeps humbly to the cross, and prays earnestly that we will

again take our meals there."

"Well, if she behaves herself, we will see what the S. C. can do."

"That," said I, "if I remember right, is the woman whom you said had

been put into _verruf_, or under the bann."

"The same."

"And are all the students, then, accustomed to take their dinners

there?"

"O, no. Part of them at the Gasthouses (inns); part here and there,

with private people, who keep a table for us, and even send us, if

required, our meals up into our chambers. About thirty of us took our

dinners at this aforesaid widow's, and paid each twenty kreutzers the

day (not quite seven-pence). But towards the conclusion of the last

semester, it was no longer to be endured! simply and eternally

cow-beef--and at last it grew still worse. Thereupon it was absolutely

necessary to give Madame, the Philistine, a lecture."

"Excuse me," I interrupted, "but I must first beg for a solution of the

term Philistine, which you so often use."

"We comprehend all who are not students under the name of Philistines.

In a more restricted sense, we understand by Philistines, inhabitants

of the city, and distinguish them from the Handwerks-Burschen, by

giving to the latter the title of Knoten; and the shopkeepers' young

men that of Schwuenge, or Ladenschwuenge, that is, Pendulums, or

Shop-pendulums. Others write the word Knoten, _Gnoten_, and say

that the artisans and journeymen were so called from _Genossen_,

_Handwerks-Genossen_, comrades or artisan-comrades, thence corrupted

to _Genotten_, and finally to _Gnoten_. We have already stated

that _Gnoten_ was supposed to be derived from their fighting with

_Knoten-stoecken_, or knotty sticks. Thus, as in most cases of

philological derivation, a fine dispute might be raised; it would be an

interesting subject, and the author might be rewarded for his pains by

the impressions of some dozen bludgeons on his back. But, not to lose

sight of the object of your inquiry--our domestic arrangements--I

here remark that the Philistine in whose house we lodge, is styled

house-philistine, and his wife, the Philoese. The student who is

quartered with us in the same house is our House-Bursche; and he

who shares with us our apartments, is to us a Stuben-Bursche, or

Room-Fellow."

"I thank you," I added. "I have certainly put your commentatorial

patience to a severe trial."

"One speaks of oneself," he replied, "generally pretty willingly. We

have that feeling in common with all mortals."

"But," I interposed, "it seems to me that you enjoy your comfortable

room very little, spite of all its comforts, if you neither dine nor

take your tea there of an evening."

"Tea!" he exclaimed, "tea! yes that is a right good beverage, but for

daily use a little too sentimental. Look you--our course of life is

this:--In the morning we pursue our studies over a cup of coffee, and a

pipe of tobacco; then we go to the classes. About twelve o'clock we

dine; then to the coffeehouse; and how much we study after that, or how

we otherwise employ ourselves, you will presently see. But in the

evening, we resort to the Kneip, and drink no tea, but beer; and to the

Kneip we now cordially invite you.

"But don't think we despise what may be called your national beverage;

for that also, comes a time. When in the long evenings we sit behind

our books, and the anticipation of the examination stands like a

spectre at the door, and bars it to our egress, then, praised be tea!

and its black brother, coffee; it is then they who must cheer us, when

the spirit of life threatens to faint, quiver, and expire. But excuse

me, I must now unto the college, which I cannot to-day very well

_schwaenzen_. So fare ye well!"

And thus we parted.

N. B.--The expression Ein Kolleg schwaenzen--to tail a lecture--means,

to put off its attendance. The term is derived from an earlier meaning

of the word _schwaenzen_, for which the term _durch-brennen_, to burn

through, is now used, and is equivalent to the English phrase,

"to give leg-bail to your creditors." In the persiflage on the

_Burschen-comment_, entitled "_Dissertatio de Quomodone, etc_.," by

Martial Schluck, from which we have before quoted, it is said, "an

honourable Bursche has the right not to pay his debts; that is, he

may _schwaenzen_ and _squiscion_ himself, make a _squis_ in his

shoes,--meaning that he may sacrifice his tail like a fox, who will

rather lose his tail than his life; and thus will the student rather

leave behind him his trunk and cloak-bag, than wait to be clapped into

prison."

When a student attends a lecture which ought to be paid for, but does

not pay for it, he is said to "hospitiren;" and he is allowed twice or

three times to hospitiren. If, however, he does this for a whole

semester, in order to devote the price of the lecture to some other

object, the students call this "to shoot a lecture." The description of

this term, is also thus explained by Schluck. "The student has the

right to seize upon other people's property, that is, to shoot, to

prefer, to lay the charge upon another. This is a new mode of putting

oneself into possession of something; that is, to commit a theft of a

life-and-soulless thing, and call it only a half-theft. Shooting

distinguishes itself essentially from stealing. First, by the student

privately conveying it away at once; and secondly, by giving the owner

of the property notice of what he had done, after it is done. This mode

of taking possession is not so much according to our customs as those

of the Lacedaemonians, which brought no shame to any one by the statutes

of Lycurgus, but rather honour and fame, to him who unobserved and in a

clever style carried off any thing."

The principal objects of _conveyance_, are pipes, sticks, spurs,

chore-tassels for the embellishment of pipes, riding-whips, and money

to the amount of a _doubel_. What is more than that must be merely

taken in loan, if it be there to take.

Friend Freisleben has, in this chapter, given us some notifications of

the manner in which he amuses himself in his hours of relaxation. Yet

we must hope that these are not all the fountains of enjoyment, that

are flowing for his refreshment, when he finds himself exhausted with

such arduous battles in the field of science. Our care indeed, is

unnecessary, since the inventive head of the student has, in all times,

least of all neglected this portion of his life.

But before we speak of other diversions, which our hero, partly in his

own and partly in other Kneips enjoys, or without, in the free air, we

must devote a few lines to that faithful companion, his dog. Some will,

perhaps say, "What! is it not enough that we have to do with the wild

student, must we also encounter his unmannerly hound?" But good reader,

recollect yourself of the words of Wagner in Faust:

E'en the wise man, howe'er profound,

Loves, when well trained, the generous hound,--

And well deserveth he thy favour too,

The student's scholar, apt and nobly true.

It is true, that a monstrous deal has already been said of the dog; but

by no one has he been more graphically described than by the immortal

Linnaeus. He says, amongst other things, "He is the most faithful of all

creatures; dwells with man; fawns on his returning lord; bears not in

his memory the strokes he inflicts upon him; runs before him on his

journey; looks back at a cross-way, and seeks obediently that which is

lost; holds watch by night; announces the approach of any one; and

guards the property."

How much do we desire the eloquence of Demosthenes, that we might

pronounce a fitting panegyric on the dog, already made illustrious by

so many pens. We can, however, only sketch the character and manners of

the student's dog with simple colours, nevertheless we hope to do the

dog-family some service, and to amuse the reader with some new

anecdotes. Various as are the young people which are blown together, as

it were, by the winds out of every climate into a University city, as

various are the dogs which the spectator will see following at their

heels. They are seldom brought with them from home; but the fancy which

the student has for the beast, has created a class of men, who make a

trade in dogs a distinct branch of business. These people also, for a

moderate honorarium, superintend the toilet of this creature, which

care is particularly demanded by the luxuriant growth of hair of the

shock. This dog, sometimes, when he comes new washed and shorn out of

their hands, in the loss of his monthly crop of hair, scarcely knows

himself again.

If one reflects too, that every individual student, out of the

multitude of dogs, selects that one which seems to assort itself most

completely with his pleasure and humour, one sees probably therein the

ground of the observation which we once heard made by an intelligent

English lady, who asserted that there was always visible a great

likeness between the dog and his master. We can only corroborate the

justice of this remark, and it must strike every one, that the dog

continually picks up first one and then another of the peculiarities of

his master.

He who desires to take a general glance at the different races of dogs

which inhabit our city, I counsel him to attend the annual dog-muster.

This is held in an appointed place on an appointed day, whereto all the

dogs of the city, both those of the students and the citizens, must be

brought. These all pass, in succession, under the inspection of a beast

doctor, and such as neither through disease nor old age fall under a

sentence of death, are redeemed by the payment of a certain tax, and

have a tin label hung on their necks, which they wear for a certain

time. I add here, in passing, a refutation of those who assert that the

Germans are ungallant, in the fact that the ladies of the canine

species are charged only a gulden each for their redemption, while the

gentlemen of that race are mercilessly mulcted to the extent of a

gulden and a half.

Great and small, tall and short, thick and thin, one or many coloured,

all meet here together. On the one side, you see the heavy house-dog,

and the butcher's dog, how humbly they follow their masters; the

multitude of yaffing turnspits, prized as true watchers; on the other

hand you descry a line of boot-foxes, who have conducted hither the

dogs of the students.

Hither come hastening with throngs and with pride,

Lots of proud fellows from every side.

_Reineke der Fuchs, by Goeethe_.

There is the poodle with his thick, round head, with the stumpy nose

and hanging ears; he is propped on his short, stout leg, and his

knowing eye blinks forth from amongst the crisp woolly hair. He permits

himself good-humouredly to be adorned with his new order. Grimly steps

forth at the call, the colossal bull-dog, with black, thick, split

nose, and slavering chops; but over him towers the English mastiff, in

hairy coat of one uniform hue. The hunting dog, in a place where all

worthy exercise of his powers is denied him, has stretched himself out

calmly, supporting his strong head with its long drooping ears, on his

vigorous foot. The slim greyhound, constantly trembling, has cowered

down in a corner. Here and there you discover a fretful thick-bodied

pug, with his upthrown snub nose, which the popular speech styles a

saddle-nose. There is the bandylegged Dachs too, with his deep sweeping

ears, dark colour, and eyes full of intelligence.

The dog of the university leads a wholly peculiar life, not unlike that

of his master, since he accompanies him every where. The saloon and the

College hall only have closed their doors against him. Hence it is

said--

If at home thou would'st me find,

Pray thee leave thy dog behind.

During the time that the student spends in these places, his dog is

confined to his chamber. Here he fills up many hours with his dolorous

lamentations, or at the window watches with envious impatience the

passing of his brethren along the street, and challenges them with

savage yells. Whether he avails himself of the books of his master to

advance himself in science, we will not venture to say; yet we have

ourselves seen them fly through the window of their abodes that were

not at a great height from the ground, and seeking their masters in the

College hall, there, as very attentive Hospitanters, stay out the

remainder of the lecture. One of my friends had a white poodle, who was

accustomed regularly to accompany him to the indifferently attended

lectures of a certain professor, where he sat quietly on the bench by

his side, and looked solemnly into the note-book of his master. One day

the dog was absent, when the extremely short-sighted professor, in

opening his lecture, remarked, "Gentlemen, it would be well if you all

wore coats of one colour; and were they dark ones they would be not so

much observed by me, but it struck me immediately that the gentleman in

the white coat was absent to-day!" The great aptness of this creature

to be taught, often furnishes the students with much entertainment. He

readily learns to carry his master's stick and portfolio to the College

hall, whence on his command, he returns quietly to the house. He is the

best of chamber attendants, bringing in the morning his master's

slippers and pipe. If he returns home at night rather inspirited by

Bacchus, he accompanies him as a safe conductor, often bearing things

which he has unwittingly dropt, after him.

A dog at one of the universities was well known as an excellent guide.

He led his master home every evening; if he turned into a wrong street,

he seized him by the coat, and pulled him back; if he fell down, he

barked loudly till he rose again; and when they arrived at the house,

the sagacious animal knew very well how to ring the bell.

They are also made use of in many a prank or piece of waggery. Thus it

is said, that once in Leipsic, the students accustomed their dogs to

the most frequent Christian names of the ladies of that city, and so

soon as they came readily at that unusual call, the ungallant sons of

the Muses allowed themselves the unpardonable joke of shouting aloud

those names in the public walks, so that it is said, the fair sex in

surprise quitted the field.

In one of the university cities, two dogs also furnished this

spectacle. An order had been issued, that, to avoid any serious

accidents from them, no students' dogs should appear in public except

led in a band. Presently was seen a student with two dogs in cords. The

one was a little pug scarcely two spans high, which was led in a rope

about as thick as a man's arm, whilst the other, a huge and monstrous

creature of the kind which the students call _Doggen_, apparently half

mastiff, half bull-dog, stalked near it, led by a piece of twine.

We still see these creatures made co-workers in many a frolic. At the

dinner table, in the public walk, in the fencing-school, and in the

evening at the Kneip, every where must the dog attend his master. He

must eat with him in the same house; the master, indeed, in the

chamber, the dog in the kitchen; for which repast, however, is allowed

on the dog's behalf two kreutzers a-day. Neither are combats wanting

between them, whereby they may the more resemble their masters, and to

which the masters, in fact, conduct them. In these dog-duels it goes

often much worse than in those of their lords, for they seize each

other so furiously that it is often difficult to separate them.

"The dog," says Linnaeus, "remembers not with resentment the blows of

his master." The student's dog is a striking example of the truth of

this remark. How often, when the Bursche returns home from a drinking

company, must this faithful servant do penance for the wild humours of

the evening. It goes not better with him on such occasions than with

many a poor German wife, who yet bears her lot with patience. She still

loves her rough commander, even while he treats her with unmanly

rudeness, and seeks to hide his weaknesses. So this true creature. Is

his lord in danger? he defends him to the last, and often renders him

the most signal services in skirmishes with the Knoten; yea, he

hesitates not to attack the sacred person of the beadle. He is denied

admittance to the duel, because he would speedily, as an uninvited

second, spring between the combatants, and as some assert, on account

of such accidents as the following. A duellist had his nose cut off,

and a large bull-dog which was in the room--perhaps they had forgot to

give him his dinner--greedily swallowed it; so greedily, that it was

impossible to prevent it! Whether the unnosed Bursche had a new one

made for him by Geheimrath Graefe, or whether he afterwards wore a

silver one, I am not prepared to say.

The student dog extends his student life far beyond that of his master,

who turns him over into the hands of another on his own departure. It

thus happens that many of these creatures travel from one hand to

another, till, finally, they belong to no individual possessor but to a

whole Chore, and live a free, unrestrained life. They then kneipe in

rotation with the brethren of the Chore, all of whose dwellings they

are acquainted with; and if they appear a little lost during the rest

of the day, yet they are regularly found at the places of public

meeting for social enjoyment. There was, for instance, the little

Tambourle here, which for many years lived only on sugar, which it

received from the coffee-drinkers in a well-known coffee-house. At

every fresh cup it demanded two or three pieces of sugar, as its

established toll.

It is also gratifying to see, when these welcome guests are grown old

and weak, how the other dogs receive them, and stand strictly by these

Bemossed Heads when they are attacked by the vulgarer dogs of the

streets. The cultivated dog is no longer a merely carnivorous animal,

he has accustomed himself to a variety of food; but it is perhaps the

peculiar characteristic of the student's dog that he drinks beer. Once

used to it, it becomes his greatest enjoyment to empty a few choppins,

and he seems not at all to dislike the phantasies of a half-fuddled

state. To him by no means applies what Voigt has added to Linnaeus's

characteristic of the dog--"he draws himself back at the sight of a

glass."

* * *

The son of the Muses can as little be without his pipe as his dog. The

enjoyment which it affords him, is at once single and manifold. It

embellishes his pleasures, it comforts him in trouble, it warms him in

the cold, it cools him in the heat of summer. Should ennui seize him,

he fills his pipe, turns to his study, and what a fulness of thought

comes over him as he gazes into the clouds of smoke, which, curling up

from his mouth, shape themselves into mysterious forms! There lies in

it a power of inexhaustible reproduction. And how shall his wine and

his beer smack without his pipe? In short, it is a discovery which

wonderfully unites in itself all opposite qualities. With all the parts

and attributes thereunto belonging, it constitutes, when displayed upon

his walk, his room an armoury, which the tender hands of the ladies do

not even disdain to embellish.

Of the continued changes which pipes in the course of time undergo in

their fashion and construction, many cabinets would convince us, did

they only contain a collection of ten years' duration. We have no

intention to weary the reader with the description of such a cabinet;

but he will allow us to state of what members a modern pipe consists,

and what is necessary to its complete use and enjoyment.

The essential portions of a pipe are the mouth-piece, the tube, the

water-sack, and the head. The two last pieces are united in the

meerschaum and the clay-pipe into one. The mouth-piece, at the upper

part, is wrought out of horn. It is made thicker or thinner, longer or

shorter, with a greater or less bore, as it may be required. The long

mouth-pieces, having various partitions, or members, as they are

called, are so finely wrought that they are quite elastic, and are sold

at a proportionate price. The mouth-piece is commonly united to the

tube by an elastic portion called a Schlauch, which is constructed of

elastic wire and silk. If the pipe is intended to be a very handsome

one, there is still another piece interposed between the schlauch and

the tube, which is made of roe's-horn, and styled the roe-crown. The

tube itself is manufactured from various materials; the coarser ones

out of juniper-wood, or cherry-tree, the finer ones out of beech and

ebony; but that which is most highly valued, on account of its

durability and agreeable odour, is the Turkish weichsel, or agriot, a

kind of wild cherry. The tubes are, again, of different lengths and

thickness, from a span in length to some yards. The Turkish pipes are

the longest.

To the tube is generally affixed the water-sack, called also by the

northern Germans the sponge-box; a little reservoir, of wedgewood or

porcelain. For elegant pipes still more beautiful, but less useful

ones, are made of horn.

The pipe-head is, however, the part on which the most cost, art, and

ornament are bestowed. The lower part of it, which, tapering away, is

fitted into the water-sack, is called the boot. The head is adorned

with a variety of paintings and inscriptions. We see upon them, as upon

snuff-boxes, many humorous occurrences perpetuated. They are enriched

with the portraits of handsome women and celebrated men, and the

painting is sometimes so beautiful as to raise their price to several

_Louisdore_ each. The students are accustomed to compliment each other

with presents of pipe-heads, ornamented with their coats of arms, and a

dedication on the reverse side.

All the various sections of the pipe are so fitted to each other that

you can readily separate them, in order to clean them; but they are

prevented from separating when in use, by silk cords which pass through

small metallic rings, and are secured at top and bottom. These cords

serve also to hang them up by. On the pipes of the Chore-Burschen the

cords proceeding from the head to the mouth-piece, are not only

secured but continued, and hanging down at liberty, bear the coloured

Chore-tassels.

The student uses in the course of the day, different pipes. In the

morning he gladly smokes out of a Turkish pipe, if such a one is at his

command. This has a small mouth-piece, a long tube, and a meerschaum

head, which gives it its greater value. It is on this account so highly

esteemed; the student asserting that no pipe smokes so pleasantly; but

its price, if it be genuine, varies from two to six, or more,

Louisdores. The material out of which the real meerschaum head is made,

is dug in Spain, Portugal, and the ancient Thebes, and consists of a

silicious clay, in chemical combination with water. The other heads are

made of various materials, and the most usual are of porcelain or

wedgewood.

The meerschaum, called by the Turks (Myrsen, Keffekil), the material

out of which the ancient Samian vessels were made, is yet used in

Turkey for the manufacture of pipe-heads; of which only the smaller

kinds are allowed to be exported. It is chiefly dug in ancient Thebes,

and is by no means employed in its crude state, but undergoes a

manipulation, similar to that of the porcelain paste. It is exposed to

a certain process of fermentation; the softened mass is diluted and

washed, then half dried, pressed in moulds, and bored whilst in them.

The heads thus formed are then dried in the shade, and afterwards hard

burnt in the furnace. After this they are boiled in milk, then in

linseed oil or wax, and finally polished with Dutch rush (equisetum)

and leather. The finest formed heads--washed ware--may not be exported,

although the Turks on the whole prefer the heads made from burnt Bole.

As the Turkish heads are not considered handsome in shape, and have too

narrow a bore, they are again turned and rebored at Ruhia in the

district of Gotha, and being brought to a more modern form, are then

boiled in tallow or wax, and again polished. The turnings are used in

the preparation of imitation meerschaum heads, which are more brittle

and less lasting than the real ones. In these heads manufactured in

Lemgo, there is no real meerschaum clay used, but a mixture of clay,

chalk, and egg-shells. These heads are heavier and more frangible than

the genuine; they more readily become rough and unclean, and take a

metallic streak from gold or silver, which is not the case with

meerschaum heads.--_Leonhard's Oryktognosie_.

A new pipe requires great care in bringing it into use, till it is as

it is phrased, besmoked, or seasoned; that is, till the inside of the

pipe-head is coated with a black crust of finely cemented-together

tobacco dust. Till this is effected the pipe has not a good flavour,

and it requires to be well and vigorously smoked out. To promote this

seasoning, it is customary to smear the inside of the head with

sugar-water, before it is filled with tobacco. This seasoning of the

meerschaum head is particularly difficult. While it is warm, during the

first time of smoking, it must not be touched with the fingers; it must

be suffered to cool slowly, and must be protected from being touched or

rubbed by any thing.

The long pipes, called house-pipes, serve the Burschen usually at the

Kneips; the very short one, on their walks, or when out shooting, as a

long one might then be inconvenient. That there are people who

extravagantly carry their luxury so far as, from year to year, at all

times and seasons, to smoke genuine meerschaum pipes, any one may, to

his astonishment, read in Bulwer's Ernest Maltravers.

The white clay pipes, which were formerly in general use, are no longer

used by the student; but they may be daily seen in the mouths of

countrymen.

Thus we have put together a right noble pipe, and will now take a peep

at the apparatus requisite to its enjoyment. The most indispensable,

certainly, is tobacco. To lecture on the various qualities of this

article, we want both patience and sufficient knowledge. How many

descending steps are there between the finest Knaster, and the weed

which fumes up rank and qualmish from the pipe of the wood-cutter! The

worst sort is jocosely called "three times round the body for a

farthing," which may fittingly be smoked over that liquor called

"three-men wine," because it would require two men to hold a man while

the third forced this Tartarian wine down his throat.

Much luxury is expended over that little ornamental repository for the

preservation of this precious commodity--the so-called tobacco-casket

Abroad the student carries the narcotic herb with him in a

tobacco-pouch, which is often ornamented with embroidery by some fair

hand. The long and thickly-piled together strips of paper (spills),

which are used to light the pipes, are in Germany known by the name of

"Fidibus," and its derivation from "fidelibus patribus," the jolly

monks, shows that these good fellows did not despise the enjoyment of

tobacco, when they could in private breathe its beatifying fumes.

Another yet similar derivation is the following. At the time when

the students were forbidden to smoke tobacco, they had private

smoking-companies, where the host sent round a Latin bill with the

following contents, which the student who agreed to go to it,

undersigned not with his real, but with a purposely assumed name:

Fid. Ibus.

S. D. N. H.

Hodie hora vii. a. v. s.

That is, Fidelibus fratribus salutem dicit N. hospes. Hodie hora

septima (apparebit in museo meo, herba Nicotiana) abunde vobis

satisfaciam. As soon as they all were assembled, they placed themselves

in a circle, and each lit his pipe with his bill, as a Fid....ibus

offering--whence arose the term Fidibus.

The inconsumable Fidibus is a new invention with which our English

friend, Mr. Traveller, was struck in the lodging of Freisleben, and in

his notes thereon very graphically described.

When we have smoked a while, it is necessary to press together the mass

which has expanded itself proudly in the pipe head, and for this

purpose is used a sort of stamper, or stopper, also furnished with a

knob of wood. This instrument has received a variety of names. In

Heidelberg it is called _Dentsch_,--a name coined for the cogent reason

that it will rhyme with _mensch_, without which the poet would find

himself in what the Americans call, an "eternal fix." Another name is

Melibocus, after the mountain on the Bergstrasse. In this instrument

there is generally contained a wire, which you can draw out in order to

give air to the clogged up part of your pipe. It is thus at once a

stopper and an opener.

The process of smoking is a species of distillation, whereby the

water-sack, as a receiver, takes off the fluid product, while the fume

passes into the still-head, and is thence conveyed to the mouth, where

it achieves its narcotic purposes, and thence is again discharged into

the air. It is to be expected that this chemical apparatus will from

time to time require cleaning; and for this end is used a small feather

for the shorter tubes, and for the longer ones the fine clear stalk of

a peculiarly tall and strong kind of grass (Luzula maxima) which grows

in the woods. Some poor imp, unfit for other work, undertakes to

furnish the smoker with this necessary article, and those who gather

them in the woody hills round Heidelberg, even extend their trade in

them as far as Mannheim and Karlsruhe. When the stranger mounts

up to the ruins of Heidelberg castle, he is often accosted by this

_Binsen-Bube_ or _Blumen-Bube_, Rush-boy or Flower-boy, as he is

called, who, with most graceful obeisances, presents him with a small

nosegay, and patiently waits for a substantial token of its acceptance.

This is the great gatherer and furnisher of the _Binsen_, or rush, as

it is unbotanically called, for the fumiferous public.

The cigar, which we must not forget, is much less affected by the

student. Yet he sometimes prefers it to a pipe, over a cup of coffee;

and then is he accustomed, with great satisfaction, to drive forth the

smoke through his nostrils, in order to make himself thoroughly

conscious of his luxury.

If the reader has held out actually to the end of this dissertation on

smoking, then we are very certain that the general and determined

smoking in Germany has arrested his attention. We do not pretend to

offer a reason for the remarkable growth of the practice of smoking

amongst us during the last ten or twenty years. It seems to us somewhat

far-fetched to assign as the cause, as has been done by a learned

German writer, that it is a natural necessity to dull and modify to a

healthful degree the all too dominant nervous sensibility and

imaginative susceptibility of the over-refined, and especially of the

learned, man.

We may remark, in conclusion, that, amongst the students, snuff-taking

is much less common than smoking: and, having thus sufficiently

described, to our fancy, the two most constant companions of the Son of

the Muses, his dog and his pipe, we may now, without further care,

leave him to follow his labours, and amusements in such good company.

CHAPTER X.

RURAL AND SUMMER AMUSEMENTS OF THE STUDENTS.

The natural beauties of Heidelberg are well known abroad. Who is he who

has looked upon its picturesque environs with a healthful mind, and has

not been enraptured with them? Therefore, the son of the Muses, who is

here passing his student years, eagerly hastens out in the lovely days

of summer into the free regions of nature that lie around. The walks in

the immediate vicinity of the city are diligently trodden by him. Above

all, the castle enjoys the frequent visits of the student youth in

thronging numbers. The student is to be met here every hour of the day,

but he still more loves to survey here the beauties of a moonlight

night. Leaning over the terrace, he looks down upon the city as it lies

in its solemn silence stretched along the bank of the Neckar. Its

inhabitants, with all their troubles and pleasures,--his companions,

with all the pursuits and passions of restless youth, are hushed into

deep slumber. He only wakes, but the hours which he steals from sleep

are not lost. He glances wide over the plain of the Pfalz, which,

illuminated by the moon's uncertain light, offers to the eye no longer

its boundary of hills. Opposite to him, the castle rears its gigantic

pile, and varying its outlines with every change of the moonlight,

challenges the imagination to equal its bold features in its highest

flights. The moon now advances from behind some envious cloud, and the

windows of the palace of Otto Heinrich appear magically lit up, and it

seems again to stand in all the splendour of past ages. But the

solitary watcher has unconsciously wandered forward till he finds

himself standing close to the spot where Matthieson sung his elegy.

Suddenly all falls back into shade, and before him stands a sublime

image of the wrath and passions of man--the rifted tower--one part

blown up and hurled, in one mighty mass, into the moat. In the vaulted

chambers of the yet standing portion, the mysterious forms of heroes

long gone down to the dust, seem to erect themselves, and to cry wo

over the desolating fury of the French. The wanderer feels a momentary

shiver pass through him--but he glances up to heaven, which expands

above him in its glorious clearness--an image of divine peace and rest;

the owl, with its dismal shout of joy, brings him back from his dreams,

and in silence he descends to the silent city.

How sweet 'tis in the air!

No hateful tyrant there

Scathes Nature's fair reign.

No base adulator,

No slanderous traitor,

Empoisons the plain.

_Salis_.

The cool shades of the Wolfsbrunnen afford the student a delicious

retreat in the heat of a summer's day; and many another spot of the

vicinity are sought by him with equal delight, which have been already

often sketched and described.

This is not the place to attempt it, and were it, we should despair of

saying any thing more on the natural beauties of Heidelberg; but we

cannot resist quoting a few passages from a very popular article on

Heidelberg in the Halle Year-Book.

After the author has described the view from the balcony of the castle,

he says, "While in the youthful mind the sentiment of an infinite

fulness of life springs up from those rich and wide prospects, the

stiller and more secret charms of the environs of Heidelberg allure it

to thoughtful and more intimate observations of nature. The dark

shadowy paths of the casile gardens invite to solitary walks. Every

where on all hands hidden glens lead away into the mountains, and

winding pathways provoke to farther advances, and conduct to

continually fresh discoveries of charming valleys and woods, new views

in the distance, and more romantic places of repose. At one place we

quit the view of the ruin and the plain, where serene but busy life

displays itself; a few steps forward, and the most profound solitude

receives us; instead of the laughing fields and sloping vineyards,

solemn thick beech woods, in which for hours we meet no trace of

human existence, engulf us. We bury ourselves in the depths of the

Odenwald--then suddenly we stand on the airy peak of the mountain, or a

wide ravine rends itself out of the hill-side before us, and there

again lies in our view the whole magnificence of the Rhine-plain at our

feet! We see in the distance the ancient Worms, and the towers of

Speir, and of Trifells, where King Richard sate in captivity; and

yonder the ruins of the castle of Hambach; and in this one glance comes

before us a vast fragment of history--the Niebelungen Lied, and the old

holy Roman Empire, with its secular and spiritual Electors and Princes

under the Emperor, and Luther before the Diet. And then sweep before us

the Crusades; and then again the times in which the wild troops of

Turenne came hither from behind that Rhine-stream, the French soldiers

playing at ball, as they came, in the Dome of Speir, with the skulls of

German kings; and finally, the latest scenes of the past, when upon

that castle of Hambach the German and the French tricolour flapped on

the same standard staff. And these histories which we have lived over

again in this one view, are not yet dead and worn out, but still plant

themselves in the very heart of the present, and intertwine themselves

beneath our feet there, in many an intricate winding. A network of

boundaries lies before us; every fresh glance falls on a fresh

territory--upon a different race of the German people. There, towards

the south, the ancient Swabia shadows itself forth; here, northward,

Hesse divides itself from the Pfalz; there, beyond the river, contends

the active French spirit against the strict old Bavarian discipline,

and nourishes itself with its beloved traditions and daring hopes.

Still farther off can we look into this very France itself, which for

centuries has been so fatally disastrous to us. Those steam-vessels

which cover the Rhine, and bear in them travellers of all nations, are

ready to convey us upward to the foot of the Alps, or downward to the

sea; and the busy and restless traffic, which moving between these

points daily rushes to and fro, past us, there presses itself into the

very centre of our field of vision."

The reader must pardon us that we have permitted ourselves to be

seduced by the charms of nature to inweave here what might perhaps have

found a place in one of the last chapters; where indeed we propose to

consider what influence the student life has on the spirit and mind of

the pupil of Minerva. He will allow us now to return to our present

subject.

The more distant places the student seeks by means of a horse or

carriage. The riding horses for hire are truly, for the most part,

wretched jades. Even the means which the Renommist of Zachariae used

would prove unavailing here; and what he thus describes, on such

Rosinantes as these could not come to pass.

A spur-stroke and a curse gave wings unto his horse.

The crack of ponderous whip, and rib-thumps, sans remorse,

Sent him all foaming on, till almost, in a minute,

The country lay behind him, the next, he was not in it.

A peculiar class of equipages are let out in the university cities, and

are hired by the student partly on account of their cheapness, but more

especially, because he can charioteer himself. He styles these little

chaises with one horse, a one-span, or one-engine. With one of these he

undertakes journeys which, especially on Sundays, stretch themselves as

far as Mannheim, to the Hardt mountains, to the Melibocus, or even to

Karlsruhe and Baden-Baden. The persecuted horse who drags these

vehicles, knows the way from Mannheim and other places, much better

than his temporary master; and when in dark nights a one-engine goes

wrong or comes to any accident it is for the most part because his

driver will not let him have his own way. Many a time the poor beasts

are so weary that the student can no longer urge them forward with the

whip, and is obliged to have recourse to stones that he picks from the

road.

Water excursions are seldom undertaken, because the ill-constructed

pleasure-boats do not allow him to guide them himself. The

neighbourhood of so many beautiful countries incites the student to

more extensive excursions, and he travels during the vacations, into

Switzerland, the Rhine country, and other places, chiefly in company of

a few friends. We may suppose it to be on some incident connected with

one of these excursions that Uhland has founded his beautiful ballad of

THE WIRTHIN'S DAUGHTER.

Three students crossed over the Rhine-stream one day,

'Twas to a Frau Wirthin's they wended their way.

"Frau Wirthin, hast thou good beer and wine,

And where is that lovely daughter of thine!"

"My beer and wine are fresh and clear;

My dear daughter lies upon the death-bier!"

And as they stepped to the innermost room,

There she was lying robed for the tomb.

The first he withdrew then the veiling screen,

And gazed upon her with sorrowful mien:

"Ah, wert thou living, fair flower of earth,

How should I love thee from this day forth!"

The second he covered the pale, dead face,

And turn'd him round and wept apace:

"Ah, there thou art lying on thy death-bier,

And how have I loved thee for many a year!"

The third he lifted once more the veil,

And kissed her upon the lips so pale:

"Thee I loved ever! yet love thee to-day!

And still shall I love thee for aye and for aye!"

That the student is not totally debarred from field-sports either, the

number of game dogs that he keeps sufficiently testify. A tract of land

lying along the Neckar, between Handschuhsheim and Dossenheim, is

assigned to him as his sporting ground; yet he is forbidden by the law,

to take any game-dog thither with him. This is probably to prevent

damage to the autumnal and winter crops of the peasants; which would

otherwise be sorely overrun by men and dogs. This regulation, and the

high cultivation of this tract, are the cause that the solitary

student, wandering thither with his gun, thinks himself lucky if he

returns home with an odd hare or partridge. But he has also frequent

admittance to other hunting-grounds which lie in the farms of different

citizens. The amusement of fishing does not appear so very attractive

to the German as to the Englishman, and one seldom now sees an isolated

son of the Muses, who patiently watches the line which is thrown into

the Neckar-stream, till a little fish befools itself with the bait. The

student loves not that sort of fishing, which according to his German

notion, seems at once a phlegmatic and tedious business; and there is a

caricature of an Englishman made by the students, which represents him

as sitting patiently watching his float so long, that a spider had spun

his web in the angle of the rod and line, and had already caught

several flies there before the fisherman had hooked a single fin.

Before we quit the summer pleasures of the student, we must say a few

words on the _Kirchweihs_--wakes. The reader must not alarm himself

with the fear that we are going to bore him with an essay on church

solemnities--we allude only to those popular festivities with which the

anniversary of the dedication of a church is celebrated. As is often

the case, this feast has lost its original intention; scarcely any one

thinks of the meaning of the word, which in the mouth of the ordinary

people is corrupted to _Kerve_. Every little nest, much too poor for

the possession of a church, yes, many an individual public house, even,

has its particular Kirchweih. By what authority it has usurped this

name and holiday, nobody troubles himself to inquire. People are quite

contented that, through these Kirchweihen, of which one or more fall

out within their reach every Sunday during the summer, they find

occasion to dance, drink, and sing. From every city gate then presses

forth a motley group; the worthy burger, the Handwerksbursche, the

alert young dressmaker, the homely housemaid, all are crowding forward

in a promiscuous throng. Amongst them one descries companies of a

higher grade, which rejoice themselves in the splendid summer's day.

So gladly each sans himself to-day!

* * * * *

Out of low houses, with damp, dull rooms;

Out of the bonds of labour and trade;

Out of the crash of the narrow alleys;

Out of the church's reverent night,--

They all are brought forth into the light.

See! only see! how nimbly sallies

The multitude, scattering through garden and field;

How it gaily again on the broad flood rallies,

Alive with all joys that boats can yield.

Who has not called to mind these lines of the great master, when he has

looked on the stream of the popular throng that has swept on towards

one of the resorts of holiday pleasures. In the midst of this tumult

the students are also to be seen following the current of the great

stream in smaller or greater companies. If in modern times the singular

attire less distinguishes him from the crowd, yet the practised eye

readily singles out the student from the Handwerksbursche and the shop

assistant. On the countenance of the Handworker we see displayed the

joy which he feels to find himself once more for a day able to flee

from the dusty workship, and the pride of showing himself in his Sunday

bravery, in the astonished eyes, as he believes, of the world. This

holiday array he has truly often thrown upon his back in a queer enough

style. In black frock coat, white trousers, high cravat, and glittering

boots, stalks he clumsily along, and his rude taste extends itself to

the very pipe which he carries in his hand. On the contrary, the

Pendulum has clad himself after the newest French fashion. All is

smoothed and polished off to a nicety. He looks like a dish that the

hungry Nero has licked into the most elegant cleanness. Scarcely dare

he turn himself in his beautiful clothes lest he should crumple the

ornate and artistical knot of his neckcloth; lest he should derange the

nice tornure of his locks. He wheels himself aside only to see whether

the admiring gaze of the fair sex is not following him. "_Noethig_,"

would the student say--that is, "it would be well for him if it did!"

The student disdains, Knoten-like, to beautify himself on a Sunday. One

day is like another to him; he can devote it either to study or to

pleasure. So, as on other days, he lounges carelessly along. His attire

is not studied, but it is convenient; and according to individual

taste, more or less excellently chosen. A short frock-coat, often of a

peculiar cut, and the little cap, are all that distinguish him.

Formerly, indeed, the costume, one entire singularity, and the coloured

Chore-ribbands, the variegated cap, and the tri-colour of the

Burschenschaft, were worn openly. But in spite of all this, nothing is

so easy as to recognise the student by his free and self-possessed

carriage. Saucily, often haughtily, he observes the groups of

onward-pouring people, without turning a step out of his track;

careless whether he be an object of notice, being only too secure that

he is. So leaves he the city Besom to the Handwerksbursche, nodding,

however, a passing greeting to this and the other as they go by,

assured that, arrived at the dancing place, they will speedily forsake

the Knoten to fly to the arms of the more favoured dancer.

I catch the hamlet's stir and cheer,

The people's genuine heaven is here!

Here great and small shoot glad and free,

Here I'm a man--here may one be!

The Kirchweihs which in the neighbourhood of Heidelberg are the most

noted, are those of Neckarsteinach and Kirscheim. Thither, some years

ago, some of the most conspicuous burger families were accustomed to

make an annual rustic pilgrimage of pleasure. This glory is gone by;

yet we would recommend the latter still as the best place in which for

the stranger to witness this folks'-feast, if so we may term it. We

follow the sound of obstreperous music, and enter a garden, where a

motley multitude presents itself to our sight. All the tables are

filled; people eat and drink, chatter and smoke, laugh and sing, all in

one chaos of merry confusion. Hither and thither, where an impatient

guest thumps vigorously on the table with his glass, run the

waiters--in the student's tongue, Faxe. At one table an honest burger

company has planted itself, and over a glass of wine, weigh seriously

whether the European balance of power can be maintained, and criticise

the government of the city.

No, no, I like him not; our span-new burgermaster,

As he's so bold already, he'll come it thick and faster.

And for the town, what doth he, pray?

Gets it not worse then every day!

Certain youngsters have seated themselves beside them in a state of

considerable perplexity, whether they shall be held fast by the wise

conversation of these elders, or shall follow the bewitching sounds of

youthful merriment.

At the next table, a knot of Bauers carry on a zealous discourse, of

which one catches these syllables in passing,--"Oney think o'that, now;

that the thing can run so wi'out bosses. It's got the divil in't's

body, an' that the outlandish folk have fun' out again!" It is the

railroads that have thrown the fat farmers into such a heat, and they

raise themselves into such a fidget with talking of the steam-engines,

that they blow as much smoke out of their earthen pipes, called by the

students _earthly_ pipes, as the engines themselves can send out steam.

But at another table we behold the dear image of youth. The

Handwerksbursch, who treats his maiden with wine and cakes; the school

youth who is there playing off the bursche before them, but looks

round, ever and anon, lest the original that he is counterfeiting be

near, or his teacher, who walking this way might reprove his

presumption; the fresh country maiden, and the gay damsel of the city,

all desire to make themselves amiable, and seek by their tittering and

laughter, to let every one observe that they are capitally entertained

by their swains.

One table is occupied by the students, who, revelling in a rich repast,

now look up at the beauty of the Neckar-Thal, and now mix themselves in

the throng, whispering with this and that maiden, to whom their

shepherds cast frowns like thunderclouds. But careless of this, the

sons of the Muses conduct them forward to the dancing-floor:

And all already dance like mad--

Juchhe! Juchhe!

Juchheisa! Heisa! Ha!

So goes the fiddle-bow.

Faster and faster goes the music, and ever madder whirls the waltz. In

complete equality and freedom seem here the most opposite elements to

be mingled. The atmosphere is already smothering hot, and clouds of

dost fly up. But that matters not. He that finds it too hot flings off

his coat, and dances in his shirt sleeves; he that does not find the

music keep time, helps it with the stamping of his foot. All seems

totally happy--all unity. But the wine has, meantime, heated their

heads, and suddenly in one corner of the hall rises a terrible hubbub.

The strife has arisen about that maiden who, there weeping, endeavours

to part the combatants. "What would the silly Knoten?" cries a student

Then springs wrathfully forth a brisk tailor. "What be we? Knoten be

we? dirt be we? Who says that, is an ass, and I say it!" A swarm of

students that have rushed into the saloon raise a burst of hearty

laughter. Then blazes the wrath of the Handwerksburschen; "Brother

Hamburger! brother Leipsicer!" they cry. Numbers of them rush together,

and strike with sticks, chair-legs, and bottles, at the little knot of

students furiously, who grimly stand on their defence.

The Bursche shouts--

"Let each man arm himself like me, with sturdy stang,

And chase unto destruction the beastly Lumpen gang."

'Tis said and it is done! Bellona storms on high,

And the battle is renewed with menace and reply.

_Zachariae's Renommist_.

But bravery must yield to multitudes.

They now begin to quit the bloody battle-field,

Yet slowly draw they off, and scarcely seem to yield;

And loath unto the base their noble backs to show,

They whirl their last club at them, as from the ground they go.

_Ibid_.

Even the fair ones have divided themselves into two parties, and one

detachment wheels off with the overpowered body that they may enjoy the

happiness of wandering homewards on the arm of the Bursche.

This burlesque student song on the Handwerksburschen is very

descriptive of these scenes:

GOD GREET THEE, BROTHER STRAUBINGER.

God greet thee, Brother Straubinger,

I'am glad to meet thee though;

Perhaps it is unknown to thee,

That from Heidelberg I go.

The master and the mistress,

Of them I can't complain,

But with these gents, the students,

No mortal can contain.

I lately bought me in the fair,

A band, red, black, and golden,

And hung my watch to it, that there

From falling 't might be holden.

Fierce as a horse a Bursch appears,

And at me right he batters;

He dashed the watch about my ears,

The riband tore to tatters.[23]

And as I in the Faulen-Beltz[24]

Was with my sweetheart sitting,

He nicknamed me a Knotenpeltz,

For such fat Besom fitting[25]

As in the dance I whirled about,

They 'gan to stamp and rumble;

The Senius stretched his leg so out,[26]

That I must o'er it tumble.

I'll off by Zurich unto Berne,

And there I think to stay, so;

And if my sweetheart false should turn,

She may write to me, and say so.

I must be stupid as an ass,

Or as three oxen, fully,

If I should suffer such a pass

From this Studenten bully.

We, in conclusion may mention among the summer pleasures of the

student, the game at nine-pins, to which the son of Minerva devotes

many an hour. Yet to describe the various kinds of this game, would

prove, probably, a little wearisome. The student uses the same as all

the other classes of people in Germany, and which are, perhaps, already

familiar to the foreigner.

CHAPTER XI.

WINTER AMUSEMENTS OF THE STUDENT.

He who lives out of himself, always does better than he who lives in

himself.

_Seume_.

Let us now devote a few pages to the pleasures of winter. If we give a

distinguished place amongst these, to the amusements which the Museum,

and many private circles afford, we must at the same time admit that

particular circumstances prevent the students to any great extent

seeking the latter. But as these circles are easy of access to the

well-bred student even without letters of introduction, if he is at the

pains to seek that introduction himself, we can by no means omit their

mention. In the houses of professors and other leading families of the

place, the student is hospitably received. Reading, music, social

games, and the dance, here furnish an inexhaustible source of

entertainment. Here he finds an opportunity to accomplish himself in

social habits, and by polishing the rough outside to discover that

solid interior which can best be strengthened and perfected by a union

of active intercourse with knowledge; and who will deny that this

desirable condition is alone to be attained by the society of refined

and accomplished women?

With softest persuasion and gentlest prayers,

The sceptre of manners sweet Woman still bears;

Extinguishes discord, which ragingly glows--

Teaches wild powers that malignantly fight.

Themselves in her own lovely form to unite,

And combines what in nature else separately flows.

_Schiller's Duties of Women_.

The student the more gladly joins these circles, as he is sure always

to find some of his companions already there, for the dance-loving host

continually recruits its members from the sons of Minerva. On the other

hand, the Museum presents manifold points of contact between the

students and higher classes of the inhabitants of the city. We again

avail ourselves of some remarks exactly to the point, out of the Halle

Year-Book. The author of the article says, "Heidelberg is only a city

of moderate size, but it contains sufficient elements for a superior

society. In the next place, it has formed itself into various small

circles, into which also the student of good disposition and accordant

taste readily procures admittance, and where he finds himself received

with simple cordiality. Most of the professors, are very accessible to

individual students, and throw in their way opportunities for a more

close literary intimacy; many of them thereby frequently collect round

them large social circles.

"In the next place, many English families, which have taken up their

abode for a time in Heidelberg, offer desirable points of union to

various lively social circles there; and with them vie other strangers,

possessors of estates in the immediate vicinity of the city, amongst

which in this respect is particularly well known the hospitable Stift

Neuberg. Many of the substantial burgers of Heidelberg also endeavour

to furnish those students that seek their acquaintance by letters of

introduction, or otherwise, with the amenities of social exhilaration

and improvement. These opportunities for a worthy enjoyment of life are

accepted by a great part of the students in the best spirit, and to

evident advantage. Walks in company and excursions into the surrounding

country in summer, and musical entertainments in winter, bring the

students into amalgamation with city society, subject their freedom of

thought to the wholesome restraints of good manners, and give to their

enjoyment of life at once scope and modification. But all these

different circles find themselves included and brought together into a

comprehensive social unity, in the Museum. This establishment founded

as a joint-stock property by the inhabitants and professors of the

city, is of high value both to the social life of Heidelberg in

general, and in particular to the student world. For a moderate yearly

subscription, the student becomes a member of this union, and through

that a partaker of its social pleasures; enjoys the advantage of access

to a rich collection of political, scientific, and literary

periodicals, and new works; and is even entitled to a certain

co-operation in the affairs of the union; a portion of the ball-directors,

for instance, being elected from amongst them. The spacious and

handsome suite of apartments in the Museum, which are always open to

the members, give the most preferable opportunities to the students for

having a common table, and for other social meetings, and by this means

brings about a more extensive intimacy and acquaintance amongst these

young people. But especially is the independent manner and estimation

with which they see themselves received in such a union, an incentive

to them to maintain this position with urbanity and moderation; and the

social equality with their teachers which here prevails, far from

diminishing their respect for them, serves only, through the confidence

reposed in them, to elevate and ennoble them. Inconceivable is the

auspicious influence of the Museum on the conduct of the students, and

their good understanding with the professors, and with the whole of the

best society of the city; and the cases are rare in which any one by a

wanton disturbance of the general enjoyment, loses sight of that

discretion which the company expects from him. Truly not all the

students have the taste for these nobler social pleasures, which are

offered to them in so friendly and disinterested a manner. They who

regard the established rules of social manners as a restraint,

incompatible with the enjoyment of their academical freedom, seek less

select circles, where such rules are more freely dispensed with. The

society of the middle classes of Heidelberg, though decent and lively,

yet wants that higher finish which elevates the young man, while it

compels him to watchfulness over himself. The student feels himself

above the society of such circles, and, as only too frequently happens,

he makes them feel his superiority in an unbecoming manner, making them

the butts of his wit, and the objects of his wanton humours. The

Heidelberg citizens have had repeated occasion to rue this overbearing

spirit of the students, and they have never, and can never be able to

establish a more satisfactory and secure relationship with such

society."

But the life of a large city comes near enough to the Heidelberg

students. The Mannheim theatre is chiefly filled by persons from

Heidelberg; the saloons of Mannheim society, in which the exclusiveness

of English high life, and of German aristocracy, appear softened by

French urbanity and South-German good-nature, are not impassable to

him; and the more favoured may, in the little court of the widowed

Grand Duchess Stephanie, become acquainted with the fine yet easy

manners of a circle distinguished by birth and accomplishment.

Many a romance weaves itself here in the intercourse of the social

circles--in the crowd of the ball-room; and strong chains of love often

become fabricated, which conduct the maiden far from the walls of

Heidelberg, and teach her to forget, on a distant hearth, her beautiful

native home. If on a lovely summer's night we linger late on the castle

height, we often, as we return, become the partakers of the enjoyment

of a serenade, the offering which a son of Minerva brings to show to

his chosen one his watchfulness. At a distance we listen to a beautiful

song, whose delivery, full of tenderness and feeling, is supported by

the accompaniment of a guitar.

TRUE LOVE.

When in the gloomy midnight deep

My solitary watch I keep,

I think on her I left behind,

And ask is she still true and kind.

When I was forced to march away,

How warm a kiss she gave that day;

With ribands bright my cap she drest,

And clasped me to her faithful breast.

She loves me well, to me is kind,

Therefore I keep a cheerful mind:

Through coldest nights my bosom glows

Whene'er on her my thoughts repose.

Now by the dim lamp's feeble light,

Perchance upon thy bed to-night

Thy thoughts to thy beloved are given,

With nightly prayer for him to Heaven!

O, if thou weep'st by grief distressed,

To think of me with danger prest,

Be calm, God keeps me every where,

A faithful soldier is his care!

Or we follow with insatiate ear the accord which sends to us through

the stillness of the night a full concert of wind music. There, under

the window, see we scattered light glimmer, and by degrees perceive the

separate music-desks, round which the dark figures have ranged

themselves. But the third piece is ended, and all sinks back into

the stillness of night. Many a son of the Muses is detained in

Ruperto-Carolo, fast bound by bonds of gentle witchcraft, till the

father's stern behest compels him to tear himself from this paradise.

THE DEPARTURE.

What rings and what sings in the streets so down there?

Open the windows, ye maids so fair.

'Tis the Bursche, away he windeth,

The Comitat him attendeth.

The others go shouting and wave their hats round,

With ribands and flowers all glowingly crowned;

But the Bursche, he loves not this riot,

In the centre goes pale and quiet.

Loud clash now the tankards, bright sparkles the wine,

"Drink out, and again drink, dear brother mine!"

"With the farewell-wine there outfloweth,

What so deep in my heart now gloweth."

The very last house which they go by--

A maiden looks down from the window so high;

Fain hides she her tearful gushes

With wallflowers rich and sweet rose-bushes.

The very last house that they go by

The Bursche there lifteth up his eye;

Then sinks it, his pain betraying,--

His hand on his heart now laying.

"Sir Brother! and hast thou then no bouquet?

See, flowers there are nodding and waving so gay!

Hillo! thou loveliest dear one,--

Of thy nosegays now fling us here one!"

'Ye Brothers! what can that nosegay do?

I now have no loving Liebschen like you.

In the sun it will droop and wither;--

The wind blow it hither and thither!'

And farther and farther with clang and song!

And sadly listens that maiden long.

"O, wo! and the youth removeth,

Whom only my heart still loveth.--

"Here stand I, ah! in my love profound,

With roses and with wallflowers around--

And he for whom all I would sever,

He's gone--and gone for ever!"

So marches he forth, and--"other cities, other maidens!"

If the stranger suffer himself, by his hunger after fresh air, to be

led away, in the days of a strong winter, to the hills above

Heidelberg, how monotonous and wild appears to him there nature in her

funeral robes. The mountains, the valleys, all wrapt in that white

winding sheet, are silent. From a distance only comes a heavy sound, as

the ice-covering of the Neckar is heaved and rifted by the combating

flood that rushes beneath it. That feeling of solitude seizes him, and

he follows the course of a small stream which will, however, conduct

him again to the banks of the Neckar. The water, whose course he has

followed, has wonderfully wrought the leaves and the grass into

fantastical ice-forms; while, above him, hang from the rocks enormous

icicles, glittering in the wintry light like crystal daggers. Again he

finds himself by the mirror-like surface of the wintry flood, and

behold! the uniformity of nature has only enabled man to multiply his

pleasures. A glad multitude here is full of life and activity. With

delight the eye follows the skilful skater, as he now, with wonderful

rapidity flies right forward, now winds in graceful sweeps and circles

through the human mass. He moves so freely and easily, that his art

would appear quite destitute of art, did we not see the learner in his

first attempts tumbling at every trial, till exhausted, he stands and

watches, with envious eye, the evolutions of the practised student. The

ice-field becomes every moment fuller and fuller, till the strongly

congealed surface can scarcely support the hundreds which crowd upon

it. And there comes a troop of blooming ladies, hastening down the

steep bank of the Neckar. They descend the narrow path, slippery with

frozen snow, cautiously, and a troop of their worshippers fly to

receive them, place them triumphantly in the chair-sledges, and pushing

them before them, vie with each other in sending them, with flying

speed, over the crystal ice-plain far away.

Nothing can well make so vivid an impression on the foreigner,

especially on the Englishman, as the sledging processions, which, as

soon as the snow is trodden hard enough to bear, may be daily seen

issuing from Heidelberg. Sometimes we see individual sledges, which are

of striking appearance, gliding rapidly through the streets; then

greater sledge-parties, which the students make amongst themselves, or

in association with some of the inhabitants. A troop of fore-riders,

with the thundering cracks of their heavy whips, announce the approach

of the sledge of the lady of honour, drawn by four horses. Then follows

a long train of sledges, each with two horses, and each containing only

one lady and gentleman. These sledge-parties afford much amusement to

the students, and opportunities for many a frolic, and the Chores vie

in outshining each other in ingeniously planned and splendidly achieved

processions. In earlier times masked sledge-parties were the order of

the day; but, in consequence of many well-known and distinguished

individuals of the university city being represented, or rather

misrepresented, they are now formally forbidden. Even the ladies, and

the venerable heads of the senate, were not secure from the

caricaturing of the students. Thus a stranger related to me, with great

horror, that he had met a great company of ladies and gentlemen in

sledges; all the ladies had wafted to him hand-kisses, and, _horribile

dictu!_ at the very next confectioner's, the ladies, with evident

delight, had each drunk a glass of brandy!

We recollect a winter, some years ago, that was particularly

distinguished by these pranks. In the first place, one of the Chores

set out a sledge procession, which was imposing from the number of its

sledges and the brilliance of its torches, which were carried by the

whole assembled body of Boot-foxes. But this was speedily cast into the

shade by another. The second Chore celebrated a Bauer's wedding, riding

and driving in numerous sledges, in the Sunday attire of Bauers and

Bauerinen, the country people and their wives, old and young, masked,

into a neighbouring village, the sledge of the feigned bride and

bridegroom being richly garlanded, and there, this fictitious pair--a

couple of disguised students--were solemnly conducted through the

ceremony of a marriage. A third Chore then, in order to strike out

something more piquant, undertook a voyage by land. A number of Neckar

boats were secured on sledges. They were all bravely rigged and

equipped with sails, masts, and cordage, and sailors were in full

activity, each crew zealous to maintain the honour of their ship. Some

of them were seen with huge spy-glasses looking out ahead in the

streets, to descry any dangerous rocks that might lie in their track,

which might obstruct or fatally terminate their voyage. And behold! all

was suddenly at a stand--the sign of a Beer-Kneip was the rock on which

they struck. All hands were now busy in trying to rescue the ship from

this perilous situation, and the way they went to work was to blow it

with a vast number of pairs of bellows, in order to send a very tempest

of wind into the sails. The captain gave his commands, in masterly

style, through his huge speaking-trumpet, and at length the vessel

heaved off, and all was quickly again under sail, the whole body

singing--

THE GALLANT SHIP IS GOING.

The gallant ship is going,

The strong east wind is blowing,

The far-off fading strand

Shows no longer,

Yet glows stronger

Love unto my native land.

Billows dark blue foaming,

Tell me, are ye coming

From that dear distant strand?

Let them flow then,

Since they go then

Back unto my native land!

And as the billow breaks there,

Love's heart and ear yet wakes there;

O speed to her away!

Kindly meet her,

Kindly greet her?

For of me you've much to say!

Seas from thee may tear me,

But my thoughts still bear me

To thee in that dear land;

What I sing now,

Winds shall wing now,

Till it reach that far-off strand.

When high the waves are rearing,

And wild the storm's careering,

Then think I but on thee;

Who dost change not,

Who dost range not,

And no storms can trouble me!

All the songs I yet may sing thee,

Other, nearer winds shall wing thee,

Soon the port will lie in view;

These I'll sing thee,

These I'll bring thee,

And with them a heart that's true!

Another winter the luxury of this amusement had advanced so far that,

from beginning at first with one horse, the students had now arrived at

having from six to eight in each sledge, and the academical senate felt

itself called upon to put a stop to this extravagant proceeding. It

forbade them in future to sledge with so many horses. What a set-out

was seen the next day! An old superannuated hack was harnessed to the

most miserable sledge that the city could furnish, and dragged it along

with the last remains of his strength. In this neat equipage were

packed together a dozen students, almost upon one another's shoulders;

and if the wretched beast, scarcely capable of putting one foot beyond

another, was disposed to stand still, he was urged to further exertion

by a horribly ugly, humpbacked, and limping ostler, going before him,

and holding before his nose a most fragrant and ravishing lock of hay.

At length they reached the first inn, where they called for a choppin

of beer, had it divided into twelve glasses, and thus, with about a

spoonful each, attempted to quench their thirst. Here they were

encountered by the inexorable beadle, or poodle, as they style him, and

commanded to withdraw so flagrant a satire on the worshipful senate's

decree. On the following day a modest sledge was drawn slowly through

the street where this stern enforcer of academical laws resided, in

which sate a poodle, whose mouth a student held close with his hand,

while another offered him a crown dollar. Not content with this

significant emblem, which held up the _official_ poodle to suspicion,

as though he too might have his mouth stopped by a sufficient motive,

in the evening came a crowd of boys, following, in wonder, two

students, who, to avoid falling under the stringent restrictions of the

senate, had adopted a new mode of sledging. One lay down on his back

sledgeways, and being drawn to some distance, by his legs, by his

companion; then arose, and drew his comrade in the same fashion, the

whole being attended by a train of torches, so that all the world

might see it. But enough of these mad pranks; these were in past

times. The sons of the Muses are now contented to distinguish their

sledging-parties by their numbers rather than their extravagance, and

instead of writhing under senatorial restraints, put on themselves, the

pleasant restraint of reason and good taste, and furnishing a holiday

spectacle to the city, enjoy themselves a day of social hilarity.

We have stated that after dinner the student seeks his coffeehouse, and

is not ashamed with a billiard party or with a game of cards to kill an

hour or two. The last amusement particularly will many of them only too

passionately pursue; and indeed Play, at the bank, as in Wiesbaden, or

Baden-Baden, whither they make excursions, has plunged many of them

already into great trouble. The student has invented many games at

cards, which are played, partly for money, partly for beer, and bear

peculiar names, as Cerevies, Pereat, Schlauch, etc. When the student

has in the evening visited his kneip, whither we will presently join

him, he has then brought his day's work famously to a close, and the

reader will join in the chorus when he sings--

Thus we students,--you may see so,--

Daily fun-fall, blithe, uproarious,

Burschen ever, could it be so!

For the Bursche is ever glorious!

CHAPTER XII.

THE STUDENT'S EVENING PARTY, WITH ALL ITS CONVERSATIONS,

STORIES, DISCUSSIONS, SONGS, AND CUSTOMS.

My spirit with pleasure now fain would I fill,

And blithe little images gather at will:

Understand--all poetic--I'm young but the while,

And most actively study the humorous style.

_Renommist of Zachariae_.

At the time from which we seek to borrow these pictures of student

life, there lived in Heidelberg the young musician Hoffmann. He had

taken refuge in Ruperto-Carolo from the petty intrigues of the

theatrical world, in which occupying a place in the orchestra, he had

moved long enough in a neighbouring greater city to become thoroughly

weary of it. His creative spirit, his glowing fancy, a certain poetical

style, marked him out and gave promise that he would one day enrich

that noble art of music, into whose depths he strove enthusiastically

to penetrate, with no ordinary performances. The means only had been

wanting to ripen in him, taking, as he did, the most lively interest in

every artistical and scientific pursuit, to the most beautiful

developement, the rich abundance of his talents. How could it then be

otherwise than that he should now find himself so happy in the midst of

the congenial life and movement of that university city, and in the

enjoyment of its natural beauties; that he should be transported to

find so many points of agreement between himself and the student youth.

He felt the truth of Goethe's words:--"This academical life, even if we

cannot boast ourselves of having partaken of its peculiar diligence,

yet affords incalculable advantages for every species of

accomplishment, since we are perpetually surrounded by men who

either possess knowledge, or seek it, so that in such an atmosphere,

even while ourselves are unconscious of it, we draw actual

nourishment."--_Wahrheit und Dichtung_.

The amiability of the young Hoffmann, and his social talents, soon

gathered a circle of friends around him, and now they all came together

to celebrate joyfully his birthday. His invitations, which he clad in

various forms of doggerel rhyme, having been sent round, were received

with gladness, since every one felt that he had never known ennui in

the house of Madame H., No. 9, since Hoffmann had resided there.

The room itself was of so handsome a size; the platform which raised it

in one part, gave it a peculiar aspect, and on this elevation he was

accustomed to solace himself with his solitary music. It also afforded

Hoffmann a particular pleasure to preserve all memorials of friendship

and pleasant times carefully, and to decorate his room with them. Thus,

therefore, many such things as masks, bouquets, ribands, and sketches

made by himself and by his friends, tastefully adorned the room. In a

word, the apartment was so agreeable, that every one speedily felt

himself at home in it. The tea-table was ready set out, the pipes

filled, and a cheerful fire flickered in the stove, round which the

already arrived guests had grouped themselves, and heard with pleasure

the dismal northeast wind whistle and roar without.

The reader has already been made acquainted with the student

Freisleben, and with Eckhard likewise, under the name of the Friend. We

shall therefore only remark, that they and the greater number of the

other guests had appeared in their morning-gowns; we restrain ourselves

from describing their exteriors farther, lest we should fall under the

suspicion that we have in our eye actual and particular persons.

Freisleben was in his behaviour grave, and somewhat introverted,

especially in large companies; but he became, amongst familiar friends,

especially when he was upon favourite subjects, open and lively. His

views of life were serious; and he was accustomed to conceal them

diligently from the eyes of others, and if any sought to look into him

a little more than was agreeable, he would sometimes set on and chatter

a good deal of mystifying nonsense. What others had no conception of,

either in him or concerning him, his familiar friends, however, knew

right well, amongst whom was Hoffmann. They knew that under his quiet

exterior, lay hidden a mind peculiarly alive to all that was good and

beautiful; yea, that his outward coldness was at the greatest in the

very moment that his spirit was the most deeply stirred. If he hated or

loved any one, that knew he very ill to conceal. For the rest, he was

tolerably firm in his principles, and knew how at the right time to act

for himself and his friends; and his failing was only in the time of

inactivity a too great weakness of resolve, and a certain romantic turn

of thought, which in the company of amiable ladies brought his peace

too easily into danger. He had pursued the study of medicine by no

means with a onesided view.

His neighbour, the Herr von Kronen, a native of H----, was to a certain

degree, his opposite; and yet the two agreed right well together.

Kronen had something formal and reserved in his disposition, without

being unfriendly. He carried himself with secure tact in all society,

and his sagacity enabled him to see through every one, and treat them

aright, without seeming for that purpose in the least to have altered

his own behaviour. He was far from troubling himself about the

approbation of others, and there were very few people of whose good

opinion he was desirous. He was a searching inquirer, and permitted no

impression to fix itself upon his mind till his understanding had

examined it on all sides. He was cautious in his judgment, and was

thoroughly candid towards every sufficiently intimate acquaintance. He

had met with many bitter experiences in life, and was once cruelly

deceived by a lady. Thence originated his dislike of all women, which,

however, he gratified by making court to them all, and turning the most

foolish of them into ridicule. On this head he came often into

contention with Freisleben, who, on his side, ranked women very high,

and had a great opinion of their general worth. His favourite study was

history; and he had obvious talents for a good diplomatist.

On the contrary, Eckhard was a jurist, good, true, honest, and had a

practical look. He was always joyous, and never averse to the

enjoyments of life. He stood freely and firmly by his friends,

especially when it came to a duel. His failing was an all too-great

Pfalzish bluntness. He promised one day to become a right able man of

business.

This was the company which had seated itself round the stove, and

waited the arrival of the rest. They entertained themselves with

scientific subjects, and had got down so deep into them, that they

scarcely noticed how two new guests came rattling up the steps. With

much bustle and noise appeared now the Jurist Enderlin, and the student

of medicine Pittschaft, whom at first it was not very easy to

recognise, so famously had he wrapped himself in coats, morning coats,

cloaks, and fur cap, against the cold.

As to Enderlin, every one knew that he was a good, inconsiderate

fellow, who was constantly merry even almost to dissipation; with a

piercing voice and a Pomeranian gibberish of a dialect; was perpetually

disputing, and only too ready to rush into a quarrel. His study,

jurisprudence, occasioned him no sleepless nights.

Enderlin.--Good evening, gentlemen! I have the honour to present to you

the great physician from Petersburg. I must beseech you to help me to

free him from some of the ballast that he has loaded himself with, lest

the disrespectful wind should so hurry his slow and reverend steps that

he might have been taken for a locomotive engine.

Eckhard now assisted Enderlin to wind their friend out of his wrappers,

as an onion is stripped peel after peel. Rind after rind was

abstracted, till it was feared that nothing at all would be left. But

the fear was vain, for what of Pittschaft finally was rolled out, it

required no microscope to discover.

Pittschaft far exceeded his friend in good nature, and was accustomed

often to become his joke. Yet he was one of the few, who, although they

often become the object of much merriment and laughter, yet never sink

in the liking and respect of their friends thereby. New schemes and

plans were continually running through his head, and his especial

pleasure was to reconcile again to each other, friends between whom any

distance or misunderstanding had arisen. He treated all matters with

great importance; had many especial friends; and decided upon things

even when he knew very little about them, in the most learned manner.

Wavering in his opinions, he followed willingly the counsel of his

friends, and with as good will gave counsel to others, and that even

without ever being asked. It often sorely troubled him that, though he

had always the very best intentions, he seldom could bring to bear what

he attempted, yet he soon comforted himself again, through the natural

and acquired endowments and talents which he was conscious of

possessing.

Hoffmann.--Where then have you left our Briton, who is seldom so

dilatory when a cup of tea is in question?

Pittschaft.--He is so busy now studying the art of smoking that he is

gone to a bookseller's to purchase a compendium upon it.

Eckhard.--How do you like our new protege, Mr. Traveller, then?

Pittschaft.--O, that is a regularly clever fellow. He seems so very

desirous to strike up a friendship with me. We have already exchanged

our views upon many weighty matters.

Hoffmann.--Without doubt thou hast been the only winner by the

exchange, for the Englishman is a really amiable fellow. He takes a

much more ready interest in every thing than his countrymen are wont to

do; and he pleases us especially in this, that he knows how to value

what is foreign; that he does not, as his countrymen commonly do,

estimate the worth of a thing entirely by its resemblance, or

dissimilarity to what is English. He has a sound judgment, and puts his

questions in that manner, that one has a pleasure in answering them.

Von Kronen.--Yes, I wo'nt have the English inveighed against. They are

an able people, of good kernel, and one must pardon them their

singularities.

Hoffmann.--Only it is a pity that the taste for music is nearly lost to

them. I have often been vexed with it. When they admire a musical

performance, it generally happens that it is only because it is by some

celebrated master.

Eckhard.--They must be excused in many cases, because they are so

completely the slaves of ceremonial; but if they only come awhile

amongst us, they soon can unlearn that, and become in society as free a

people as they are already a political one.

Enderlin.--They are famous fellows these English, and box like the

devil. Nothing would give me so much pleasure as to have a round with

one of them for once. We would see, however, whether I could not upset

him with my Pomerlandish head.

Freisleben.--I have made the acquaintance of many of the Britons, whose

society afforded me a genuine pleasure. Their noble independence, the

cool courage, the practical eye, their love of freedom, their

straightforwardness, make them worthy of esteem, although one sometimes

sees these shining qualities disfigured by egotism and indifference. Of

the women, I will not speak. "On the Rhine, are the ladies very fine."

"In Saxony also, the lovely maidens grow." That is all very good; but

in England, I believe, were I there, I should fall in love at least

once every day.

Von Kronen.--Ah! now we're off on the high road to sentimentality! It

will not be long before he will give it you line and verse--"how man

can only be ennobled by intercourse with most-to-be-adored woman." He

will sing you "the joys of the beloved;" "the noble resolves, which out

of an heart," etc. etc., and other such nonsense. No, these women are

wicked creatures, that play with us, as Master Flea in Hoffmann

says--as the cat with the mouse. But when thou hast learned to reverse

that play, then art thou the true master. Recollect what Lichtenberg

says,--The expressions--"to give a heart," "to give favour," are

poetical expressions. Maidens don't give their hearts away, they sell

them for money, or honour, or they exchange them for others, in which

exchange they either have, or fancy they have, the advantage.

Freisleben.--He who honoureth not woman, and woman's mind to----

Von Kronen.--Phoh! cease all that. If thou dost not give over I shall

run into the street that the wind may blow the stuff out of my ears.

This is the consequence of thy associating so much of late with that

Krusenstern, who makes such an everlasting sentimental face, like a

goose that has had the feathers plucked out of its living body. They

should stuff him with Indian corn, and hang him in the smoke, that they

might grow him a good liver, with its appendage, a gall-bladder.

Freisleben.--Thou judgest to-day, contrary to thy wont, rashly upon my

friend. Thy judgment is false and unjust; but that arises from thy

knowing his history. The poor fellow is deeply to be pitied.

Pittschaft.--Freisleben, let us hear the story. We are all curious; and

thou knowest it will remain amongst us friends.

Hoffmann.--See there! At length appears Mr. Traveller! Good evening.

Take off your things. Seat yourself by the stove: here is a pipe, and

here the Fidibus.

Mr. Traveller.--Best thanks! Ha, it is savagely cold without; but here,

thank God, it is warm and comfortable. But I have disturbed the

gentlemen!

Hoffmann.--Not at all. Freisleben is about to tell the story of an

unfortunate student. I fancy you would take an interest in it too.

Mr. Traveller.--I am all ear.

STORY OF KRUSENSTERN AND AVENSLEBEN.

Freisleben.--Krusenstern, whose pale and wasted figure you now see

passing silently about, was not always so. Once he was one of the

handsomest students that the walls of Ruperto-Carolo ever enclosed.

Every endowment that honours man, adorned him; that, even his envier

must admit Nature had richly crowned him with her gifts; and the

education he, sprung from one of the richest mercantile families of the

city of N----, enjoyed, had brought those gifts to their highest

perfection; but he had one shadow-side, and this was his choleric

temperament; a failing sufficient to plunge him into ruin. Similar

studies, similar sentiments united him in a strong bond of friendship

with Von Avensleben, the only son of a house of ancient nobility. It

was now in the year before his examination that he first saw and became

acquainted with the sister of his friend; a most amiable lady, who then

resided some time with her parents in the city of Heidelberg. His manly

nature, free from all rudeness; his attractive demeanour, which a fine

feeling of propriety pervaded; and his finished education, won him the

heart of the damsel, and he testified to me that he had found in her

that ideal which he had before continually sought in vain. I had the

happiness to know the amiable family of the young lady, and recall with

a melancholy joy the time which I spent amongst these good, and then so

happy, people.

The widow Von Avensleben was as much distinguished for her high

accomplishment as for her most unassuming disposition. She was well

acquainted with the master works of German and foreign literature; and

her knowledge of the world, and her nice tact, gave to her conversation

a peculiar charm. She embraced her children in her innermost heart, her

constant care was to smooth out every slightest trace of discord

between them; and if she had a failing, it was her too great indulgence

of them.

Amalia was the eldest daughter. She might be compared to one of those

noble metals, which, because not vainly glittering on the surface,

escape the eyes of ordinary men: but the noble ore conceals not its

peculiar qualities from the knowing eye, which the more he observes,

the more beautifully they discover themselves, and satisfy him that the

pure metal requires no further refinement. In personal beauty inferior

to her sister, the maiden had earlier advanced to a reflection upon

herself and others, and her clear understanding enabled her to arrive

at noble and free views of the true worth of outward things, and of her

own mind. Thus she had early demonstrated that she was capable of the

greatest sacrifices for her friends--for her friends, who were chosen

after mature consideration, and in which choice womanly sagacity and

fine feeling were her guides. Her youthful timidity gave place, as she

first became conscious of her worth, to a noble assurance. She judged

others with indulgence, but hesitated not to speak out what was an

acknowledged truth, even when that truth was not flattering to another.

Thus showed she herself constantly as a noble and true soul, which one

must continue to love more and more.

The little Maria was not so circumspect as her sister. As a lovely

butterfly, she fluttered from flower to flower, extracting from each

the best honey. Her vivacity led her to embrace whatever was good and

beautiful with heartiness; but exactly because every thing is not good

and beautiful, was indispensable to her a change of the flowers from

which she drew nourishment. She knew how to show herself friendly and

full of kindness to all who felt themselves compelled to pay to her the

tribute of her love-worthiness, without tyrannically abusing her magic

wand. But, when she sometimes saw that the lovely and brilliant side of

a thing had too much biassed her frequently too predominant feeling;

when she found herself deceived in and discontented with what she had,

in her too enthusiastic fancy, taken up, would she painfully lament

over the dark side of life. Certainly, every one who had once seen the

little elegant being, as she charmingly and sweetly moved in society;

every one who had glanced on her fine and noble features, and into her

speaking eyes, must have loved her; and when she, moreover, sung with

the clear metal of her voice, one of the beautiful songs which my

friend accompanied on the piano, every one was enchanted.

Thus were they happy people; and the rapidly approaching completion of

his university life, his rare acquirements, and the protection of men

high in the government, gave my friend the promise of a near and a yet

happier future. Ah! who could have thought that the peace of this happy

family should be so horribly destroyed; that this lovely bond should

have been so cruelly rent asunder! An inconsiderate action of the young

Von Avensleben converted this paradise into a hell.

He had accidentally received intelligence of a serenade which

Krusenstern proposed to give to his loved one. This excited him to an

ill-considered joke. As his friend glided near to the house with the

nocturnal music, and standing near in the shade of another house,

delighted himself with the imagination of the joy that his attention

would give to Maria, Avensleben showed himself at the window, clad in a

woman's night-dress, and threw a hand-kiss to Krusenstern. The wrath of

Krusenstern at this foolish exposure of his lady to the ridicule of the

musicians was furious, and a challenge to a duel with pistols was the

consequence. No representations were able to bring him from this

terrible resolve; and a journey which the family of Von Avensleben

made, in order to spend a few days on a neighbouring estate of theirs,

afforded the sundered friends an opportunity to compass their unhappy

intention.

They drew in the early morning to the appointed place. Krusenstern with

his seconds was first there--a spot well known to travellers by the

name of the Engelswiese, or Angel's Meadow, lying up in the woods above

the Neckar, on the opposite side to the city, and showing its pleasant

green area belted in by the forest, to wanderers about the castle,

though invisible to the valley below. He walked in silence to and fro,

and gazed down upon the city, which lay gloriously illuminated by the

morning sun. He could even distinguish the house where he had enjoyed

the purest and deepest pleasures; he thought over the happy past; and

anxious forebodings of a dark and perdition-blasted future rose up

before him. The curtain was only too soon to be drawn aside, which his

eyes were not yet permitted to penetrate. His antagonist appeared on

the ground; the old resentment drove out every softer emotion; the

seconds measured out the distance, the pistols were loaded, the word

given--Von Krusenstern shot--but it became night before his eyes, as in

the same moment he saw his antagonist spring on high, and then fall to

the ground. He had received his death-wound.

Who shall describe the situation in which poor Krusenstern found

himself!--who the misery of the friends of both! He was immovable to

all persuasions to flight, and was committed by the magistrate to whom

he had surrendered himself of his own accord, to the university prison

until further inquiry.

The family of the fallen youth were immediately written to, to tell

them, that, on account of some degree of indisposition, he would not be

able immediately to follow them, as had been agreed, and a friend of

the house undertook the sorrowful task of opening to them the dreadful

intelligence. But the most terrible part was yet to come. Von

Avensleben was highly beloved amongst the students, and it was resolved

to attend his funeral with a torch-train; and that the wretched

prisoner, who, during all this time had sate brooding in a stupor of

grief without listening to any one, might not perceive it, they

determined that the funeral should take place a day earlier than usual.

I was with the unhappy man on this eventful evening, endeavouring to

comfort him, and to withdraw his thoughts from the dark pictures of his

imagination. The shutters of the little room were closed, but a tone of

the dismal mourning music struck his ear as the funeral train passed by

the end of the street, along the Hauptstrasse, or High Street, of the

city. "My friend! they bear him to the grave!" cried he with a terrible

voice, and rushed to the window. I endeavoured to hold him back, but he

tore himself loose from my grasp with giant strength, and bursting open

the shutters struck his head against the iron grating. There flared the

sullen glow of the torches, and the tone of the trumpets quivered

through my vitals. With ghostlike, terrible, and distorted countenance,

he gazed after the melancholy train;--"I--I have murdered him! the

good, the true friend! There! I see him with the bleeding wound,

crying, 'Wo!' over me! Oh God! Oh God! thou has cast me off! Maria!

Maria! what have I done to thee! Seize me, ye spirits of hell! Tear me

away from the pure angel-form!" So he raved on, till, exhausted, he

fell back into the chamber.