He passed the night in the most horrible delirium; and for many days it

was not dared to leave him a moment alone, lest he should effect his

desperate endeavours at self-destruction.

But if the train left horrors behind it, it met yet still greater as it

approached the end of the city. The letter had reached the family of

Von Avensleben, but the friend had missed the sisters in the darkness

of the night, as they hastened back to town to attend their sick

brother.

"Whom do they bury there?" asked the trembling Maria, as their

carriage, passing in at the Mannheim gate, was detained by the mourning

procession.

"The student who was shot in the duel," answered an old man, who did

not know the young lady--"the Herr Von Avensleben."

The cry of horror and misery in the carriage, as it wheeling round

again rolled away through the dark night, I attempt not to describe.

Maria only too soon became aware of the whole terrible secret. She fell

into a long and severe nervous fever, and only arose from her sick bed

to die a more weary death from the sure poison of incurable sorrow. She

had written to her former lover a most moving letter, which assured him

of her pardon, and in which she exhorted him to listen to the

consolations of religion.

The kind girl had not desired the return of the little admonitory

tokens of happy days; she had also retained his gifts, memorials of a

pure and beautiful love, which a dreadful fate had destroyed.

Krusenstern, who spent two years in prison, is now come back again,

and--you have seen him.

All had listened in silence to the recital. Of some of them, the pipes

were gone out,--others blew powerfully clouds of smoke around them.

"Poor Krusenstern!" said Eckhard. "I revoke all that I have said

against him."

"A most sorrowful history," said the Englishman.

"And false notions about women is the cause of all," said Von Kronen.

"The poor Krusenstern would never have gone so far if he had not

regarded his love in too romantic a light. This mischief would never

have happened if he had only read my favourite author, Lichtenberg,

where he says,--'That the irresistible power of love can raise us,

through its object, to the highest pitch of happiness, or plunge us

down to the lowest gulf of misery, is poetical nonsense of young

people, whose heads are yet only growing; which have no voices in the

counsels of men; and for the most part are so constructed that they are

never likely to have any.'"

"We must have no more such stories," said Hoffmann, "or the pleasures

of the whole evening will be destroyed. The tea is ready; take your

places, gentlemen."

Mr. Traveller, tasting the tea, pronounced it capital; and declared his

astonishment that the Frau Philistine could prepare so excellent a

beverage; but the host gave him to understand that he had brewed it

himself. "It is my favourite beverage," said he, "and when I spend the

evening at home, serves me for supper; or I cook a beefsteak and

potatoes in the little machine which stands yonder, and which is a good

deal in vogue amongst the students."

"So, so!" said the Englishman, "that is very sensible now."

While they thus chatted, the House-besom entered, and set upon the

table a handsomely-shaped tart, which is called in this part of the

country, a Radonen-cake, as a gift from Herr Schuetz, in whose house

Hoffmann was familiar. The cake was admired, and the host addressed

himself to cut it up scientifically, when--zounds! the whole cake was

nothing but a snow-ball, which had been made in a proper mould, and

which had received the requisite colour from an ingenious powdering

with brick-dust. "So shalt thou return to the water out of which thou

wert made," exclaimed Hoffmann, as the whole company laughed heartily

at the deception.

When tea was over, the company divided itself. The Englishman and Von

Kronen plunged deep into a game at chess. The other four played at

whist, and Hoffmann, as master of the house, did the honours, wandering

first to this and then to that table. The whist party continued long;

after the first rubber they obliged the host to join then, and so spun

out their play to the fifth rubber. In the meantime the two others had

terminated their game at chess, and seated themselves by the stove,

smoking their pipes, and chatting over this and that.

"Has your pipe a good chair-way?" asked the Englishman, whom this

student expression amused.

"It goes like a flute," answered the other. "Why you have made yourself

master of the art of smoking, even to its very technical terms."

"You can scarcely believe," said Mr. Traveller, "how much I am

interested in every thing, that is German, of which smoking is one

thing, and especially in all that is connected with its university

system. So long as I continued in England, I did not trouble myself

much on this head, but now I use all the endeavours I can to acquaint

myself with the present constitution of your universities. You must

recommend to me a book in which I can find some notice of the origin of

universities in general, and of the earlier fortunes of that of

Heidelberg in particular."

"The best book on that subject," said Enderlin, who had come from the

whist-table, "is Von Kronen himself. He can give you such a lecture

upon it, that all the rats in the house shall run out; for which

reason they wished to appoint him, in Westphalia, to the office of

chamber-hunter. _Tres faciunt collegium_, so let us erect him a

_cathedra_, whence he may pronounce his lecture."

These arrangements were speedily made. In the meantime Von Kronen had

put his visage into a very learned form, and begun:--

SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF UNIVERSITIES.

Gentlemen,--Let us, as true sons of Minerva, exhibit an agreeable

contrast to those people yonder, who have given themselves up to the

burthen of play. May the honey of my words drop into your ears, and

turn you into true disciples of wisdom. But the subject of our present

lecture is the earlier fortunes of universities in general, and in

particular of Ruperto-Carolo, that ancient fountain of knowledge, out

of which we have drunk deep draughts.

"The sup of wisdom," interrupted Enderlin, "that we have eaten with a

spoon, is a more beautiful metaphor--"

I warn the indiscreet hearer--said the _pro tempore_ professor, Von

Kronen, sternly frowning,--of Tit ii. section 27, of the academical

laws, where it is declared that--'insults towards persons who are

placed in authority in the university, or towards the persons connected

with them, shall be strictly punished; if they are offered from

revenge, so must the punishment be made the sharper, and, according to

circumstance, may be even penally amerced.' After this, let no man

insult or interrupt.

Our European universities, as they at present exist, are the production

of a comparatively late period, since, though we find institutions

resembling them in very early times, yet they were essentially and

wholly different to ours. History shows us how, through the continually

progressing culture of a people from age to age, institutions for the

fostering and diffusion of knowledge formed themselves; and thus we

find, at first, the so-called Priest-Schools in Egypt, Persia, India,

and amongst the Hebrews; amongst the Celtic people the cloister-like

unions of the Druids, which in caves and solitary woods, imparted to

the most distinguished of the youth oral instruction.

The business of teaching was confined to expounding of the laws, of the

holy books, and so forth, and was communicated in verses. The

educational institutions of the Greeks were of a higher grade. The

first and most celebrated High School was Athens; which also in still

later times, maintained a high rank in this respect. We must here only

remind ourselves of the gardens of Plato, in which he imparted his

instructions in philosophy. The Cynosarges, where Antisthenes taught;

the Poikyle or Stoa, where Zeno assembled his disciples; the gardens of

Epicurus, and afterwards of the museum at Alexandria. Philosophy was

the great science: as to them the Faculties, as well as the so-called

Bread sciences (sciences made a trade or profession of) were totally

unknown. The Greeks also possessed public libraries, as those at

Alexandria and Pergamus. The educational institutions of the Romans

were modelled essentially upon those of the Greeks, and enjoyed the

most extensive influence from the 607th year after the building of

Rome; and the highest veneration was shown to professors from Greece,

who taught in them philosophy and the arts. The Romans also held it

indispensable to visit and study in the schools of Greece, and their

young nobility especially resorted to Athens, Rhodes, Alexandria, etc.

The Romans, moreover, were not acquainted with the division into

Faculties, and every man of standing studied the liberal arts--studia

humaniora--in their whole compass; and libraries, and collections of

works and remains of art, were much more numerously and richly at their

command. The study of philosophy was not the less zealously prosecuted

than in Greece; but the grammatical philosophy of the Greek and Roman

tongues, combined with rhetoric and poetry, were the highest objects of

education. The continually increasing numbers of the immigrating

Grecian professors, led to the founding of many other schools in Italy.

Amongst the most important was the Athenaeum, founded by the Emperor

Hadrian, afterwards called the Schola Romana; those of the capitol, and

other temples. Vespasian was the first to establish public professors

of political science with fixed salaries. Antoninus Pius raised the

so-called imperial schools, as did Valentinian those of Rome generally,

to the higher distinction, by a thorough and salutary reform. Athens,

however, still continued to maintain the highest reputation, down to

the tenth century, to which people flocked from all countries.

With the fall of Rome fell also the schools, and all the higher

institutions for the diffusion of knowledge; but with the spread of

Christianity they began again to rear their heads, but with a very

essentially different character. Their tendency was preeminently

theological,--as the theological seminaries, and the catechetical

schools, especially at Alexandria, testify; which latter maintained the

highest celebrity, from the second to the fourteenth century. This

theological tendency manifested itself still more in the episcopal and

cathedral schools, where indeed the so-called Seven Free Arts were also

taught, but in the most miserable and imperfect manner. Theology,

growing every day more sterile, yet exercised a perpetually increasing

lordship over philosophy, and formally subjected it to tutelage, as the

monastic schools from the sixth to the eleventh century most strikingly

show. These institutions sought the immediate protection of the

hierarchy, and the result of their labours was the School Philosophy.

Charlemagne and his friend Alcuin again first comprehended the idea of

a general humane accomplishment. The former founded the Schola Palatii,

for princes and young men of condition, and Alfred in England

established similar ones there; but with the death of these remarkable

men, all seemed to fall back again into the old track. These cloister

schools, however, in the ninth century, merged into the so-called

Faculty Schools; which again in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries

lived anew as Universities. Thus, in consequence of the schools of

Charlemagne and Alfred, a free spirit of scientific inquiry evolved

itself from the cloister schools, which found a corroborating

co-operation in the Rabbinical schools of North Africa, in Spain, and

France, and still more, in the schools of the Arabs. There, such

Faculty Schools stood forth with especial prominence; the one for

medical science at Salerno; for jurisprudence at Bologna, which

possessed distinguished privileges as the gift of the Emperor Henry I.

through the _Autentica_ of the year 1158. The scholastic theology soon

separated itself from the Aristotelian-Arabic Philosophy, and the seat

of the latter became Paris. Amongst many precious privileges, which

these three institutions received in consequence of the _Autentica_ of

Frederick I., that of Philip Augustus for Paris was the most

remarkable. It freed it from the civil jurisdiction, and placed it

under the jurisdiction of its own teachers. Paris was also the first

university in which all branches of education were taught; yet even

there, still theology continued to be the prominent study, and none of

the universities could confer all kinds of academical honours. So,

doctors of theology could only be created in Paris; of law, only in

Bologna, and so on. As these schools now became actually universities,

they ceased to bear the names of scholae, studia, studia generalia, and

the name of universities was adopted, and has ever since continued in

use.

The teachers of the universities received originally no stipend from

the state. Frederick II. paid to the teachers of the newly-founded

university at Naples in 1224, the first fixed stipend. The great

advantages of a university education becoming, by degrees, generally

known, occasioned many cities, which saw these advantages, to endeavour

to become university-cities themselves, so that from the thirteenth

century the number greatly increased. Universities were founded in

Montpellier in 1220; in Orleans in 1312; and in Prague in 1348; the

last in particular formed on the model of that of Paris. Independence

of the state created, especially in Prague, a most beneficial freedom

of doctrine in the teachers, which was often directed against the

prince, and often against the church, with the most distinguished

consequences.

We are once more conducted by the mention of Prague back to the

universities of Germany, and it must be, in the first place, observed,

that this university for a considerable period was, and continued to

be, the only one. But as knowledge penetrated more and more into

Germany, and especially as it was cherished and promoted by the

princes, the want of such higher educational institutions was more and

more felt, and thus arose in the German territory, previous to the end

of the fifteenth century, fifteen universities,--of which Vienna was

founded in 1365; Heidelberg in 1387; Cologne in 1388; Erfurt in 1392;

Leipsic in 1409; Rostock in 1419; Freisburg in Breisgau in 1452;

Greifswalde in 1456, 1472; Trier in 1454, 1472; Basle in 1460;

Ingoldstadt in 1471; Tuebingen in 1477; Mayence in 1471. At the

beginning of the sixteenth century arose Wittenberg in 1502, and

Frankfurt on the Oder in 1505; Marburg in 1527, the first Protestant

university; Koenigsberg in Prussia in 1544; Jena in 1554, 1557; Altdorf

in 1675, 1678; Helmstadt 1575.

At that period, however, the Protestant princes only could be justly

praised for their care to provide able professors; the universities

which continued Catholic, or which were newly-founded by Catholic

princes, as those of Dillingen in 1613; Paderborn in 1615; and Molsheim

in 1618; were occupied by the Jesuits. In consequence of the

unfortunate Thirty Years' War, many of these universities fell; many

suffered much from the chances of war; and these circumstances incited

neighbouring princes to found new universities. So arose the university

at Giessen in 1650; at Duisburg in 1655; at Kiel in 1665. The Elector

Frederick III. of Brandenburg--King Frederick I.--changed in 1694 the

Ritter School at Halle into a university. A general improvement of the

instruction given in all the universities in this century is

observable: but spite of all endeavours at improvement in this respect,

the sciences all continued to be taught in a very unphilosophical

manner, and in the Latin tongue.

The necessary advance from this wretched state of things began with the

eighteenth century, through the universally restless activity of the

philosopher Leibnitz. Christian Wolf taught first in the spirit of

Leibnitz and in the German tongue. George II. seconding the better

spirit of the time, founded a new university at Goettingen in 1734;

Margrave Frederick of Brandenburg-Anspach one at Erlangen in 1743; and

a Catholic one arose through the Prince-Bishop of Dalberg in 1734 at

Fulda, but was dissolved again in 1804. The good spirit continued to

work on through the remaining half of the eighteenth century, and thus

in 1760, Duke Frederick of Mecklenburg founded a university at Buetzow,

which was in 1789 united to that of Rostock. The Duke Karl Eugen of

Wuertemberg in 1770 founded that of Stuttgardt, which was, however,

again dissolved in 1794. Bonn also at that period received the

foundation of its university. More recently was founded that at

Landshut, whither the university of Ingoldstadt was removed in 1800,

and again in 1827 removed to Munich. Wittemberg ceased in 1816, being

united to that of Halle; and in 1810 a new university was founded at

Berlin.

We have now, gentlemen, taken an historical glance at the German

universities, and at their foundations, so far as is necessary. They

were called forth by the ruling circumstances of the times, and

established themselves now in this manner and now in that. But it is

especially interesting to us to have seen that the university of

Heidelberg was one of the earliest, and continues one of the first; its

rank no one will presume to contest. She has raised her noble head amid

all the storms of time, and no state revolutions or other political

epochs could make her bend. Ruperto-Carolo shone like a morning sun on

the horizon of scientific endeavour, and we now shall take with

particular pleasure the opportunity----

"To invite the honourable listeners politely to partake of a modest

supper;" interrupted Hoffmann. "Thou mayst finish thy learned lecture

another time."

Von Kronen.--Far be it from me to throw any obstruction in the way of

so praiseworthy a proposition; especially, as the favourite adage of

our city of the Muses has always been--the utile dulci.

Mr. Traveller.--So postpone we then the continuance of the discourse to

a future day.

PHRENOLOGY.

The little collation was in the mean time brought up, and the company,

under the conduct of the musical artist, made the most successful

attacks on the ham and veal cutlet. The Goettingen sausage, moreover, an

imitation of the renowned Sulzer, was as little spared as the

potato-salad, and the scattered remains soon alone marked the

battle-field. A noble Rhine-wine recruited the muscles of the jaw, and

loosed again the tongue of the brave combatants. The affairs of the day

became the subject of discourse, and occurrences in Hanover, which then

appeared likely vitally to affect the interests of all Germany, were

eagerly discussed by all. Mr. Traveller, as the representative of

England, stated the strong feeling which there prevailed against the

King of Hanover, and so they came to talk of the prevailing views and

theories in England, on many subjects, and Mr. Traveller speedily

entangled himself in a discussion on Phrenology, which he endeavoured

to defend. Freisleben, a determined opponent to the theory, immediately

took up the subject zealously.

Freisleben.--They are now signs on the skull that man will expound,

formerly they were signs in the heaven. What unpardonable presumption,

from certain deviations from the regularity of the outer form, to infer

an analogical change of the soul. A leap which, according to my

opinion, is not less than from comets' tails to war. What presumption,

from the body to seek to form conclusions upon the spirit, whose mode

of connexion with it is to us totally unknown! It strikes me exactly as

if any one should infer or assert the possession of a fine sense of

smell, from the existence of a huge nose, or, as dancing is a function

of the foot, that he who has a great foot must be a capital dancer.

Mr. Traveller.--Throw the matter into ridicule as much as you please,

but take along with you at the same time the evidences which experience

furnishes.

Freisleben.--These evidences have long been shown to evidence nothing,

and it astonishes me that this doctrine of Gall and Spurzheim, this

ephemeral structure, can find so much acceptance in England.

Mr. Traveller.--I know the thing only by popular representations. But

the principles which are herein derived from anatomy and physiology, to

which Gall and Spurzheim have rendered much service, the grounds which

pathology and comparative anatomy also furnish, appear to me worthy of

all attention.

Pittschaft.--That nobody denies; but Gall having rendered essential

service to the anatomy of the brain, by no means justifies his

doctrine.

Freisleben.--His theory must fall, when it is assailed _a priori_, or

by experience. Above all things, unphilosophical, not to say

ridiculous, is his distribution into twenty-seven senses. By what right

has he only so many set forth; and why is a boundary drawn here?

Mr. Traveller.--Though many things may be said against this

distribution, yet it is often seen in life that an individual sense as

marked out by Gall, is pre-eminently developed and frequently almost

exclusively predominates; I remind you of his five-sorts-of-memory

sense.

Freisleben.--Certainly. But what is the cause of this? Is it not to be

sought rather in external influences, which especially develope this

kind of memory? And if we leave this out of view, then must we go still

farther. So there is a painter who can paint only landscapes; and I

recollect in Matthisson's Reminiscences, to have read of a Cretin in

Berne, who could paint cats, and cats only, but them most excellently.

How much farther must Gall's artistical faculty be subdivided, till it

reaches down to the cat-painting faculty!

Mr. Traveller.--The artistical faculty is probably in this painter, but

we must assume that it is prevented from unfolding itself in all

directions.

Freisleben.--But there you knock yourself down. Since, if we assume

that there is no necessity for the faculty, which the external

elevation of the skull indicates, to develope itself, then the whole

pile of Phrenology tumbles to the ground. But does it develope itself,

and is this acknowledged as necessary, what incalculable and horrible

consequences must this have! All moral responsibility ceases: the

criminal escapes punishment, since he can show on his skull the

irresistible murder-sense. But I will not pursue this farther, since,

happily, we have nothing to fear from it. Scarcely in a single instance

do the outer plates of the skull-bones correspond permanently with the

inner ones, and therefore not with the brain. I call to your

recollection only the skulls of certain animals, in which, between the

two skull-plates, is to be found a large hollow, as we, indeed, also

find in man; as, for instance, the hollow of the forehead--the frontal

sinus--which is, in different individuals, very differently developed.

Then again the most recent physiological experiments show, that in

occurring injuries, they are not by any means of so much consequence in

the external portion of the brain, in the hemisphere, but that it is

exactly the inner portion which is of the most importance, and which

also has a much more determinate shape. In injuries of the head too,

cases have occurred, where whole spoonsful of the hemisphere of the

brain have been taken out without the slightest diminution of the

actively intellectual powers. Object not to me that the convolutions of

the hemisphere of the brain have been particularly developed in

distinguished men--here it was also the case with the inner portion:

one part does not develope itself without the other. Object not that

the anatomy of beasts gives no secure result, since if this is the

case, how can phrenology itself dare to hope to give more certain

judgments? The firm and immovable part--the form of the bones

especially--is delusive: in the first place, since they have long

acquired their form and consistency before every species of improvement

of the improvable creature takes place, which comes long after the

complete fixidity; and secondly, since this form depends so little upon

our will, while the influence of external causes is so unavoidable, and

a single pressure or stroke can gradually work a change, whose progress

no art is capable of restraining. Moreover, even could any thing be

deduced from this, still the firm parts yet constitute but a certain

and perpetually fixed proportion, a single and insignificant link in

the chain of countless circumstances, which go to the formation of the

human character.

Mr. Traveller.--My God! my head is in a whirligig with all this--with

all this rapid German.

Freisleben.--One must not allow one's-self to speak of the outer form

of the head in which a free spirit dwells, as one would of a pumpkin;

as little must we calculate circumstances which depend upon it, as we

would calculate an eclipse. Others assert, with equal probability, that

the character of a man lies in his countenance, whilst they appeal to

the capability of drawing a conclusion on the whole from the

indications of a part; as others, supporting themselves on this

sufficient ground, assert, that man must act as a machine. And to this

class of reasoning belongs--"in a handsome body dwells a handsome

soul."

Ridicule majis hoc dictum, quam vere aestimo,

Quando et formosos saepe inveni pessimos,

Et turpi facie multos cognovi optimus.

_Phaedrus_.

Pittschaft.--Ah, if we could but first rightly understand the changes

in the brain itself. But a great visible change in the brain may be a

very little change for the soul, and _vice versa_. And how will people

draw conclusions from the very vault of the brain?

Mr. Traveller.--But, gentlemen, recollect how often phrenologists, from

the outward form of the skull, have drawn correct conclusions.

Recollect the allocation of distinguished heads as they are to be seen

in plaster in the English and German museums.

Freisleben.--Yes, they have drawn some very neat conclusions, but we

know very well how that stands. The false conclusions have been

carefully put out of sight; and yet sufficient of them have come to the

daylight to render the phrenologists ridiculous. They are, indeed,

often still more innocent, the worthy demonstrators only seeing that

which they knew very well before. Recollect also what a sagacious

German naturalist says:--"The proof of the demonstration which the

phrenologist makes is, in most cases, as superficial as the

demonstration itself. Let a man eat a shovelful of salt, according to

the prescription of Aristotle, with the person upon whose head and

heart he makes so superficial a judgment, and he will then find what

will become of his former judgment. But to err is human, and that not

exclusively, for it is sometimes the fate of angels." Talent, and the

endowments of the spirit, generally have no signs in the solid portion

of the head. To prove this, let the selected casts of thinking heads,

and selected ones of fools and not-thinking men, be placed side by

side; and not the head of the learned man, of a careful education, be

placed in opposition to that of the worst specimen of the totally

uneducated country booby. Bedlam is peopled with inhabitants, who, if

they did not stand staring as if chilled into stone, or smiling at the

stars, or listening to the song of the angels, or would blow out the

dog-star, or stood trembling with folded arms,--if, in fact, they were

not judged by these aberrations, but by the shape of their heads alone,

would command the highest respect. Still less can we draw correct

conclusions from the shape of the living head than from the bare skull

itself. A skilful artist, without exceeding the bounds of the probable,

would be able to cast in wax a covering of muscles and skin for the

head of any skeleton, and give it an expression which should possess

any aspect that he pleased. And thus may the skull of a living person

be, in reality, so covered with an irregular mass of muscular and

cuticular integuments, as shall give an equally delusive effect.

Von Kronen.--whose attention had become excited by this

illustration--here interposed. What an immeasurable leap from the

exterior of the body to the interior of the soul! Had we a sense which

enabled us to discover the inner quality of bodies, yet would such a

leap still be a daring one. It is a well established fact, that the

instrument does not make the artist; and many a one with a fork and a

goosequill would make better sketches than another with an English case

of instruments. Sound manly sense soon sees into this; it is only the

passion for innovation, and an idle sophistry, soothing itself with

false hopes, which will not see it. If a ship-captain answered a fellow

who offered himself to his service with enthusiasm--"Thy will is good,

but, nevertheless, thou art of no use to me. Thy shoulders are too

narrow, and thou art too small altogether for the service," then must

the good fellow probably put his hand on his mouth; but if the captain

said, "Thou actest like a worthy fellow, but I see by thy figure that

thou constrainest thyself at this moment, and art a scamp in thy

heart;" in truth, such an address would, in any place, to the end of

the world, be answered by any honest fellow with a box on the ear.

Mr. Traveller.--You will make me in the end suspicious of the whole

circle of physics, or otherwise I must believe that you allow no place

to the phrenologist amongst natural philosophers.

Freisleben.--I permit him freely to class himself amongst the

naturalists; but he must attempt to take no greater rank amongst them

than the _soi-disant_ political prophet does amongst subtle statesmen.

But one can by no means class the genuine natural philosopher and the

phrenologist and physiognomist together. The first err often humanly,

the others err continually and monstrously.

While this discussion had grown warm, amongst the others a lively

conversation had arisen on recent literature. They gave their opinions

on the recent English romances of Bulwer and Marryat, which then were

the order of the day. They condemned some of the later productions of

the French. They contended for and against the influence of the young

Germany; criticised Gutzhow's newest romance; and soon were upon a

general theme, the different tendency of the public in England and

Germany. There the preference for popular representation; the neglect

of scientific reading, together with the very superficial school

education; here, on the contrary, reverence for science, and

over-driven grasping after scientific things, and a passion to be

learned, which especially shows itself repulsively in the ladies, when

they are carried away into the scientific vortex; they bewailed the

wretched mass of rubbish that was now read, and especially that the

Germans by reading too much did themselves injury. That, in particular,

in the schools the children were held more to learning by rote than to

thinking; at the same time thankfully acknowledging that it was sought

with all diligence, to correct this error in the new Folks' Schools.

"In England," says Freisleben, "one finds more original character in

company, and amongst the common people, as may be seen in the English

writings. In Germany it is totally different. And if any one stumbles

on an original discovery, how long it continues, till his discovery,

and till he himself become known. In Germany the greatest discoveries

have been made, but they weighed them, and doubted so long whether they

were new and would be useful, that their neighbours the French or the

English seized on them, and secured the advantages of them to

themselves."

Eckhard.--No nation feels so much the worth of other nations as the

Germans; and yet is, alas! so little regarded by most of them, even for

this obeisance.

Enderlin.--I think the other nations are quite in the right. A nation

that would please all, deserves to be despised of all. This has been

pretty much the case with Germany, and it is only just now that other

people have learned to estimate her properly.

Von Kronen.--Lichtenberg in his time said justly--"The character of the

Germans lies in two words: patriam fugimus."--_Virgil_.

Hoffmann.--Yes, Lichtenberg--_that_ is an original character! I have

learned to prize him properly from Von Kronen. Yesterday, for the first

time, I read his famous essay on the state of the German Romance of his

time. It pleased me so much that I must read it out to you. It is

short, and will at least be finished before the Phrenologists and

Anti-Phrenologists there have finished their discussion.

ON THE GERMAN ROMANCE.

Our mode of living is become so simple, and all our customs so little

mysterious; our cities are, for the most part, so small, the land so

open; all is so simply true, that a man who is desirous to write a

German romance, hardly knows how he is to bring the people together, or

to lay his plot. Then, as the mothers now in Germany suckle their own

children, there is an end of all exchanging them, and a fountain of

emotion is thus stopped, that is not to be purchased with money. If I

would persuade a maiden to come out in man's clothes, that is

immediately discovered, and the servants betray it, before she can get

out of the house; and besides, our ladies are educated in such

housewifely notions that they have not the heart in them to do any

thing of the kind. No, to sit fine by mamma, to cook and to sew, and to

become themselves cooks and sewing mothers, that is their business. It

is undoubtedly very convenient for them, but it's a shame to the

Fatherland, and an invincible obstacle to the romance writer.

In England, people think that if two persons of the same sex sleep in

the same room, a fever is unavoidable, on which account the people in

one house are by night, for the most part separated, and a writer has

only to take care that he sets open the house-door, and he can let who

he will into the house, and need not fear that any body will awake

sooner than he would have them. Furthermore, in England the chimneys

are not merely the channels of smoke, but the especial windpipes of the

chambers, and afford at the same time such an excellent way to come

down into any room of the house, at once and unheard, that I have often

been told that he who had once gone up and down a chimney would prefer

it to a staircase.

In Germany a lover would make a pretty journey if he were to come down

a chimney! Yes, if he had a mind to fall into a fire-hearth, or into a

wash-kettle with lye, or into an anti-chamber with two or three stoves,

which one probably could not open from within at all. And suppose one

should let the lover come down into the kitchen, the question then is,

which way would you bring him first upon the roof? The cats in Germany

can take this way to their loves, but not men. On the contrary, in

England, the roofs make a kind of street which sometimes are better

than those on the ground; and when a man is upon one, it costs him then

no further trouble to get upon another than to run across a village

street in winter.

People will say that those contrivances have been hit upon on account

of fires; but as these scarcely occur once in one hundred and fifty

years in any house, so I conceive that they have rather been found

advantageous to lovers driven to extremity and to thieves, who very

often take this way, when they might have chosen others, and certainly

always when a hasty retreat is necessary, exactly as the witches and

the devil are wont to do in Germany. Finally, a right powerful

prevention of intrigues is that otherwise fine and praiseworthy conceit

of the post-directors in Germany, by whom a vast amount of the virtues

of the times are preserved, since instead of the English coaches and

chaises, in which a princess in the most delicate condition would

neither fear nor be ashamed to travel, they have substituted those

so-beloved open Rumpelwagen. For what mischief the convenient coaches

and the most excellent highways of England may occasion, is not to be

expressed by words.

For, in the first place, if a maiden goes out of London with her lover

of an evening, they may be in France ere the father awoke, or in

Scotland ere he has come to resolve with his relations what he shall

do; therefore, a writer has need of neither fairies, conjurors, nor

talismans in order to bring the beloved into security, since if he can

only bring them to Charing-Cross or Hyde-Park Corner, they are as safe

as if they were in Weaver Melek's chest in the Persian Tales.

On the contrary, in Germany, if the father misses but his daughter on

the third day; if he only knows that she is gone by post-wagon, he can

mount his horse and seize her again at the third station. Another

mischievous circumstance is the, alas! much too good company in the

commodious stage-coaches of England, which are always filled full of

beautiful and well-dressed ladies, and where--a thing which parliament

ought not not to suffer--the passengers so sit, that they must gaze

upon one another; whereby is endangered, not only a highly dangerous

bewilderment of the eyes, but sometimes a highly shameful, and on both

sides a smile-exciting bewilderment of the legs of the opposite

traveller; and finally, as frequently as dissolving a bewilderment of

souls and thoughts arises, so that many an honourable young man who was

proposing to travel from London to Oxford, has instead of that

travelled to the devil. Such things, thanks to heaven, are impossible

in our post-wagons; since, in the first place, no genteel ladies could

possibly seat themselves in such a conveyance if they had not in their

youth been after climbing hedges, magpie-nesting, apple-gathering and

battering down of walnuts; since the spring over the side-ladder

requires a remarkable nimbleness, and no lady can do it without setting

the coach-master and the ostler-fellows that are standing round,

laughing. In the second place, the passengers so seat themselves, when

they at length do seat themselves, that they cannot look each other in

the face, and in such a situation, whatever may be said to the

contrary, cannot very well begin an intrigue. Conversation loses all

its spice, and one can at the most only understand what another says,

but not what he desires to say. In short, one has something else to do

in a German post wagon than to gossip; one must hold one's-self fast

when we come to holes, hold ourselves in readiness for a spring in case

of accident; must keep an eye on the boughs, and duck at the proper

time, that one's hat or one's head may be left in its place; keep an

eye to the windy side, and keep strengthening the clothing on that

quarter from which the attack comes; and if it rains, why then one has

the property common to other creatures that live neither in the water

nor on the water, of being silent when it is wet; and thus the

conversation stands at once stock still. If one at length reaches a

Wirthshaus (inn,) thus passes the time amongst other things--one dries

himself, another shakes himself, one sucks his lozenge, another blows

up his cheeks, or enacts whatever other child's megrim he may be in the

habit of on such occasions. And hereby comes a circumstance into notice

which makes all friendly intercourse in a Wirthshaus impossible; to

wit,--that since so many miseries are bound up with post-wagon

travelling, so care has been taken that the Wirthshauses shall be made

so much worse than is necessary, in order to render a return to the

post-wagons the more tolerable. And nobody can imagine to himself what

an effect that has too. I have seen people who were pounded and knocked

to pieces, and sighed ardently for repose, that when they saw the

Wirthshaus in which they were to refresh themselves, with the courage

of heroes, have resolved to travel on, which was similar to the

fortitude of Regulus, which drove him back to Carthage, although he

knew that they would there put him into a sort of German post-wagon,

and so let him roll down the hill.

So fall through altogether the stage-coach intrigues with the

stage-coaches themselves, those true hot-houses of episodes and

declarations. But, it will be said, there is now a stage-coach in

Hanover. Good, I know it; and one quite as good as an English one. And

must we, therefore, begin all our romances on the way between Haarburg

and Minden, which we now leave so swiftly behind us that we have hardly

time to see it? All that the travellers do there, is to break out in

praise of the king who has ordered this coach, and to sleep; for they

are generally so wearied before they get into this coach, that they

then fancy they are got home, or that they lie in bed. But those are

proper objects truly to fill a romance with! To introduce five sleeping

merchants, all snoring; or to fill out a chapter with the praises of

the king! The first is by no means a fit subject for any book, and the

latter for no romance.

But through this exception, I have wandered from my proper business.

Yes, if there were not left yet a monastery or two, to which we can

bring a loving couple for refuge, I should not know how to carry on a

German romance to the third page; and when, in fact, there shall no

longer be a cloister left, there is an end of German romance.

* * *

The majority of the company paid their tribute of approbation to this

satire. The observations which they made upon it were interrupted in

good time by the appearance of a steaming bowl of punch. When the

guests had filled their glasses, Hoffmann seized his guitar, and

accompanied the voices of the rest, who sung Schiller's famous song.

THE FOUR ELEMENTS.

Four Elements all thoroughly blent,

Build up the world, our being cement.

Press ye the juice of citrons, and pour;

Harsh is of life the innermost core.

Now let the sugar's tempering juice,

Softly the fiery harsh strength reduce;

Now let the water bright gushing fall;

Peacefully water embraceth all.

Let drops of spirit therein be thrown;

Life to the life it giveth alone.

Quaff it off quickly ere virtue goes,

Only revives the well while it glows.

Freisleben arose, and said, "Let us drink to the prosperity of our

friend. May many happy years find him still young in his spirit, and in

the love of his art. May future generations lament that he did not live

amongst them. May he be continually surrounded by friends who love him

as we do! May he only know sickness that he may learn more vividly to

enjoy health. May so much earthly good fall to his lot, that he may

live contented. To his prosperity let us give a three times thundering

Live-hoch! Vivat!--vivat!--vivat!"

Hoffmann.--To the prosperity of my dear friends! May you--if in the

autumn of our lives we should meet again--say to me, "All that we once

wished thee on thy birthday, has had its fulfilment in ourselves. But

may there never come a winter in your lives!" Let us sing something in

company.

THERE TWINKLE THREE STARS.

There twinkle three stars, oh! so friendly!

I' the darkness of life do they shine,

These stars, oh! they sparkle so kindly,

We call them love, music, and wine,

We call them love, music, and wine.

There lives in the sweet voice of singing,

A heart sympathizing and true;

Song giveth new youth to rejoicing,

And barreth the heart to all rue!

But wine unto song is united,

A joyous and wondrous thing;

With glowing rays clothes itself brightly,--

To earth a perpetual spring!

But glitt'ring and joyfully winking,

When brightly the third star doth shine;

It sounds in the spirit like singing,

It glows in the bosom like wine.

Then fill, ye three cordial planets,

Our breasts with your glory divine;

In life and in death our companions,

Be love, and sweet music, and wine!

And wine, and sweet love, and singing,

They honour the festival night;

Then live! who in kissing and loving,

In wine and in singing delight!

In wine and in singing delight!

Hoffmann.--Gentlemen, don't drink yet. I must yet once more animate

you; so then sing:--

Roundelay and barley-wine,

Love we them for ever;

Grasp them bravely where they shine,--

Cup's exhausted never!

(To Mr. Traveller.) Brother, thy beloved is called?--

Mr. Traveller.--Georgina.

All.--Georgina, she shall live-o! shall live-o!

Georgina, she shall live-o!

All.--Roundelay and true grape wine,

Love we them for ever.

Grasp them bravely where they shine,--

Cup's exhausted never.

(To Von Kronen). Brother, thy beloved is called?--

Von Kronen.--Rapunzel.

All.--Rapunzel, she shall live-o! shall live-o! shall live-o!

Rapunzel, she shall live-o!

So goes the song in this manner round; and each one names the actual or

feigned name of his lady.

Mr. Traveller.--Where, then, have you found the name of Rapunzel, Von

Kronen?

Von Kronen.--Look into Grimms' "Kinder und Haus-Maerchen;" there you may

read the moving history of Rapunzel, which has so seized upon me that I

have without further ado made the poor Rapunzel my beloved.

Enderlin.--I hope that thou correspondest with her. How touchingly must

the subscription of the letters sound:--"Thy faithful Rapunzel," or

"Thy affectionate Rapunzel."

Pittschaft.--But do procure me the favour of thy Rapunzel writing

something in my Stammbook.

Von Kronen.--In thy bore of a Stammbook? But O yes! yes! for she is

quite at liberty to write in what she will.

Pittschaft.--And what, I wonder, will she write?

Von Kronen.--Instead of an answer, which perhaps after all may not

come, I will give thee an anecdote.

Every body knows how great was at one time the rage in the universities

to have Stammbuecher. Every student kept one; and all the inmates of the

house, the numerous members of the landsmannschaft, the whole body of

the teachers and other acquaintances who approached him, each and all

found their place in it. A student even came once to Dr. Semmler in

Halle, with the request that he would have the goodness to write in his

Stammbuch. Semmler, who, spite of his well-known and highly

praiseworthy economy of time, could not repress his curiosity to turn

over the leaves of the Stammbuch, found, to his great amazement, almost

on every page such sentences and sayings as were not the most

calculated to give him a high idea of the morality of the friends of

the gentleman Stammbuch-holder. Finding a clear page, he therefore

wrote--Matt. viii. 31. "Lord, suffer me, that I go amongst this herd of

swine."

Pittschaft.--If Rapunzel could say such stupid things as thou dost, I

should set her down for a very conceited person, and would not trouble

her with my Stammbuch, more particularly that she might not get a

wicked notion of the morality of my friends, and amongst them of her

beloved.

Hoffmann.--Away with all personalities. Let us have a roundelay.

There goes a drinking-law our table all around, around--

There goes a drinking-law our table all around:--

Three times three are nine-a,

Ye know well what I opine-a.

There goes a drinking-law our table all around.

What a jolly time the damsels have though--

They're not compelled to the war to go.

[Here he drinks out his glass, as each one does in his turn, after

having sung.]

THE KRAeHWINKLER LANDSTURM.

But march you slow there before, but still march slow there before,

Or the Kraehwinkler Landsturm can follow no more.

What a jolly time the maidens have though,--

They're not compelled to the war to go.

Pittschaft--Dame hostess, cook you Millet-bree,

When the Landsturm comes it will hungry be.

Chorus--[As above, and repeated after the singing of each strophe.]

Freisleben--Our captain is from Rudolstadt,

He eats a deal, but hungers for all that.

Von Kronen--Sir Captain! my follower goes so in trot,

That scarcely a scrap of heel I have got.

Enderlin-- At Leipsic, in the People's-Fight,

We had nearly taken a prisoner quite.

Eckhard-- The artillery would have fought right well,

But of powder it can not bear the smell.

Hoffmann (for Mr. Traveller)--The cavalry stout doth charge amain,

And is always in when the dumpling's

slain.

Hoffmann.--Still farther goes our Lumpitus yet once more around!

At Hamburgh burst a dreadful bomb,

Potz Wetter! how ran we there all and some!

And as the foe came galloping fast,

We hid in the grass till they were past.

The Kraehwinkle Landsturm hath courage high,

The baggage it always standeth by.

Our Captain is a most valiant wight,

'Tis only a pity he can not fight.

They gave us a banner moreover to show,

Which way the wind did chance to blow.

Run, run, brave comrades, run left and right--

A French sentry-box stands there in sight!

This song was written originally in ridicule of the Austrian Landwehr.

It has almost endless strophes, of which a few only are here given. It

is very frequently used as a Round-song or roundelay, in which each

person must sing a fresh verse, and when the known verses are at an

end, some one extemporizes, so that every day it becomes richer in

strophes. The sixth strophe is then usually sung as the conclusion.

Hoffmann.--I fill the glasses, and then let us sound a still greater

Lumpitus.

Hoffman-- My brethren, when no more I'm drinking,

But faint with gout and palsy lie,

Exhausted on the death-bed sinking,

Believe it then, my end is nigh. [Repeated as a Chorus.

Freisleben-- A lordly life the Pope doth hold,

He lives on absolution gold;

The best of wines still drinketh he--

The Pope, the Pope I fain would be.

Von Kronen-- Brothers! in this place of festive meeting,

God in goodness hath us thus combined;

Let us every trouble now defeating,

Drink here with the friend of honest mind.

There, where nectar glows--Valleralla!

Sweetest pleasure blows--Valleralla!

E'en as flowers when the spring hath shined.

Pittschaft-- So crown with leaves the love-o'erbrimming beakers,

And drain them o'er and o'er;

And drain them o'er and o'er;

In Europe far and wide, ye pleasure seekers,--

Is such a wine no more!

Is such a wine no more!

Is such a wine no more!

Is such a wine no more!

Enderlin-- Ca, ca, carouse it!

Let us not fiery-heads become;--

Who won't here now sit,

Let him stay at home!

Edite bibite, collegiales

Post multa secula, pocula nulla!

Mr. Traveller sings "The Old English Gentleman."

Eckhard-- God greet thee, Brother Straubinger,

I'm glad to meet thee, tho-ough;

Perhaps it is unknown to thee,

That from Heidelberg I go-o.

The master and the misteress,

Of them I cant complai-en;

But with these gents, the studi-ents,

No mortal can conta-ien

Chorus.-- The master and the misteress, etc.

Hoffmann, in the mean time, had seated himself at the harpsichord, and

drew a quodlibet from the most varied Burschen songs, leaping from one

to the other, and interweaving phantasy-pieces between them. The

platform in the chamber enabled the company to sing the Bavarian

Folks'-song, "The Binschgauer." One chorus placed itself on the

platform with the punch-glasses, the other remained by the steaming

bowl. Hoffmann accompanied them on the harpsichord.

THE BINSCHGAUER'S PILGRIMAGE.

The Binschgauer would a pilgrimage go,

Fain would they go singing, but how they did not know,

Zschahi! Zschahe! Zschaho! etc. etc.

The Binschgauer have got there,

Now take heed that ev'ry one his knapsack bear,

Zschahi! Zschahe! Zschaho! etc. etc.

The Binschgauer far from their homescenes have gone;

They saw many cities, and far around were known.

Zschahi, Zschahe, Zschaho! etc. etc.

The Binschgauer long through joy and sorrow run,

Till high the holy pinnacles glanced i' the evening sun.

Zschahi, Zschahe, Zschaho! etc. etc.

The Binschgauer wended about that dome renowned,

The vane-staff was broken, yet still the vane turned round.

Zschahi, Zschahe, Zschaho! etc. etc.

The Binschgauer entered the holy dome within,

The saints were all asleep, and woke not with their din.

Zschahi, Zschahe, Zschaho! etc. etc.

The song was ended. The company became continually more jovial, and

began, on the platform, to dance a most singular quadrille, to which

their musician played on the harpsichord in the most extraordinary

style. Von Kronen, of a tall and strong figure, stood there exactly as

if he had been turned in wood, but an electrical stream seemed to run

now through this, and now through that limb, and twitched him hither

and thither. His motions were those of a puppet which is drawn by

strings attached to every member. When the dance was become right wild,

then darted he suddenly forwards, so that no one knew whence the

movement came, and all squandered in astonishment His partner, the

little Enderlin, made a graceful spring, and, as the tall fellow

stretched wide his legs, darted boldly between them, and then danced

round him with the newest steps. The other dancers had again seized

each other's hands, and made such a desperate leap that they sprang

almost to the top of the room. The music rushed on more wildly--the

dance grew madder and madder, and with more ringing laughter of the

spectators, as the pair, suddenly making a high side spring, sent a

pane of glass from the window jingling down into the street. Great

snow-flakes came whirling into the room through their new-made way. "It

struck two!" cried several voices. "It is time to break up!" exclaimed

others. All prepared themselves for departure, even the host himself,

who would accompany his guests a little way.

The glasses were emptied--"To a speedy and as happy an evening!" and

the farewell cigars lit.

The wind without had laid itself, but the snow-flakes chased each other

rapidly through the air, and a deep snow covered the silent streets. In

a few moments the merry home-goers were clad in a thick covering of

snow; and being once thus besnowed, they separated themselves into two

parties, and began to bombard each other with snowballs. One party

prevailed and put the other into flight. The fleers espied a Bauer's

sledge; one jumped in, the other two seized its pole, and thus rushed

rapidly along the Hauptstrasse, pursued by the other party with

snowballs. When they now reached one of the principal squares, the

madcap chase came to an end. The sledge remained standing in the square

to the amazement of the Bauer, who the next morning, after much

hunting, found it there.

Now sounded a general "good-night," and every one hastened home.

Hoffmann reached his chamber, which filled him with that feeling of

desolation, so often felt in places which a moment before were all

alive with the presence of those we love. But the delightful

consciousness of having enjoyed an evening to the uttermost, the still

more delightful consciousness of having afforded such an one to his

friends, absorbed all other thoughts. He called to mind again the good

wishes of his friends, and his last thoughts in the night were, "May

God, if he denies me every thing else, never, to my life's end, deprive

me of the sense which renders me capable of enjoying worthily such

delightful hours."

DRINKING SONG.

Ye brothers, when no more I'm drinking,

But faint with gout and palsy lie,

Exhausted on the sick bed sinking,

Believe it then, my end is nigh.

And die I this day or to-morrow,

My testament's already made;

My funeral from your care I'll borrow,

But without splendour or parade.

And as for coffin, that remanding,

A Rhenish cask for it shall pass;

Instead of lemon placed each hand in,

Give me a brimfull Deckel-glass.

Into the cellar then convey me,

Where I have drunk whole hogsheads dry;

With head unto the tap then lay me,

My feet towards the wall may lie.

And when you're to the grave me bringing,

As follow all then, man by man;

For God's sake let no bell be ringing,

And clinking glasses be your plan.

Upon my gravestone be inscribed,

This man was born, grew, drank, and died,--

And now he rests where he imbibed

In lifelong joy, the purple tide.

* * *

THE POPE.

A lordly life the Pope doth hold,

He lives on absolution gold;

The best of wines still drinketh he;

The Pope, the Pope I fain would be.

But no! 'tis but a wretched lot,

A German maiden loves him not.

Alone in his great house lives he--

The Pope, the Pope, I would not be.

The Sultan lives full blithe and crowse,

He liveth in a golden house,

With lovely ladies liveth he--

The Sultan then I fain would be.

But no! he is a wretched man,

He liveth by the Alcoran.

No drop of wine may drink--not he;

The Sultan then I will not be.

Their separate fortunes, howe'er fine,

I'd wish not, for one moment, mine,

But would to this right glad agree,

Now Pope, now Sultanus to be.

Come, lovely maiden, yield a kiss,

For this my reign as Sultan is.

And faithful brother send a fee,

For now I choose the Pope to be.

* * *

DRINKING SONG.

Brothers! in this place of festive meeting,

Let us every trouble now defeating,

God, in goodness, hath us thus combined;

Drink here with the friend of honest mind.

There, where nectar flows,

Sweetest pleasure blows,

E'en as flowers when the spring hath shined.

Golden time! oh revel we it through,

Hanging on the friend's devoted breast;

From the friend a blissful warmth we'll borrow;

Of our pleasure cool in wine the zest.

In the grapes pure blood,

Drink we German mood,

Feel we of a higher strength possessed.

Sip ye not when Bacchus' fountain floweth,

With full beakers to lips faintly bent;

He who life by drops yet only knoweth,

Knoweth not of life the full intent.

Lift it to thy mouth,

Drain it in thy drouth,

For a God from heaven it hath sent

On the spirit's light accustomed pinion,

In the world the youngling plunges bold;

Friends to win him, as his best dominion,

And whom fast and faster he will hold.

So remain mine all,

Till the world shall fall;

Round their friend truth's arms eternal fold.

Let ye not the strength of youth be wasted;

In the wine-cap doth the gold-star shine;

From sweet lips be honeyed sweetness tasted,

For of life is love the heart divine.

Is the strength gone forth?

Lose the wine its worth?

Follow we, old Charon, nor repine.

* * *

RHINE-WINE.

So, crown with leaves the love o'er-brimming beakers,

And drain them o'er and o'er,

In Europe far and wide, ye pleasure-seekers,

Is such a wine no more!

It comes not out of Hungary nor Poland.

Nor where they French do speak.

St. Vitus, he may fetch wine from such wo-land,

Ours there we do not seek.

It is from Fatherland's abundance rendered,

How were it else so good!

How could in it such noble peace be blended,

And yet such bravest mood!

Yet it grows not upon all German mountains;

For many hills we trace,

Like the old Cretans, dull and sluggish fountains,

Which are not worth their space.

The Ertzgebirge, ye need not explore there,

If wine ye would behold;

Thuece spring but silver and the cobalt ore there,

And mischief-making gold.

Thueringia's mountains, for example, bringing,

A growth which looks like wine,

But it is not; o'er that there is no singing,

No glad eyes round it shine.

The Blocksberg is the lengthy Sir Philister,

As windy and as drear;

Dance the cuckoo and his wild sacrister,

Upon him here and there.

The Rhine! the Rhine! 'tis there our vines are growing!

O blessed be the Rhine!

The slopes by which that noble stream is flowing

They give this precious wine.

So drink! so drink! let us all methods trying,

For joyous hours combine.

And if we knew where one in wo were lying

We'd give him of this wine!

CHAPTER XIII.

GENERAL SYSTEM OF GERMAN EDUCATION.

All our educational institutions form, of many members, an existing

ring, which embraces the inhabitants of Germany so thoroughly, that

every one of them must, according to his station and capacity, receive

the benefit of a humane education. The university beams on this ring

like a noble jewel set in gold, and while it closes the ring, as the

noblest member of the whole, it touches again on the commencing

portion, over which its beneficent splendour shall be diffused. So Mr.

Traveller regarded these institutions, and regarded them therefore with

approval and admiration. Von Kronen, who had already delivered to him a

short history of the universities, promised to give him a brief notice

of the general German educational system, which he had prepared, at

another opportunity:--and here it is.

A glance into the evolution periods of the continually ascending

spiritual and material interests of an age; a glance at the state of

improvement even of this time, and our latest posterity, must unite in

the judgment,--with truth was the nineteenth century called "_the

enlightened!_" The spirit of man lies no longer in a lethargic sleep;

the nations of the _tempus novi_ appear no more the slaves of

superstition and of absurdity; manhood feels its worth; discerns its

destiny; and strains towards the highest limit,--towards an ennobled

humane accomplishment, with all that strength which nature so

affluently pours out upon it. Art and science embrace with giant arms

the awakened spirit of man; they will be, and they are become, the

common property; and every one seeks to make himself a partaker of

them, according to the measure of his individual ability. Trade and

commerce flourish; the activity of the common man, of the greater part

of mankind, has therethrough acquired a nobler direction. Increasing

population brings new necessities; and these, again, elicit a zealous

wrestling for the means of satisfying them, whereby the spirit

of man sees itself compelled continually to a persistence in the

most strenuous activity. And does not all this contribute to a

perpetually advancing improvement of our human heart and mind most

essentially?--Does a thistle here and there thrive amongst the wheat?

still the field is well cultivated, and the farmer knows very well how

to separate it from the crop.

If we seek now the ground, the cause, of the condition of our time in

all its connexions, we find the germ laid in the primordial point of

union of every kind of cultivation--in education and instruction. Where

and at what time has more been done for the education of the people

than now? Where and when have the Folk's-schools, those primary

institutions for the accomplishment of manhood, acquired a higher and

more beautiful position than at present? This interesting circumstance

we shall observe somewhat more closely in these pages.

Perhaps nowhere can a close inquiry into the innermost essence of a

thing be more entwined with the historical developement of the same,

than exactly here, when treating of schools, and their peculiar conduct

and condition; and although it is by no means our intention to give

here a regular history of such developement, yet we cannot avoid

casting a hasty retrospective glance on the schools of a former age,

since we shall thereby, on the one hand, most securely arrive at the

position whence we can, as already observed, best learn to judge

properly and perfectly of the nature of Folk's-schools; and, on the

other hand, learn best to know the real rank of the schools of our

times, and to prize their advantages. "The world's history is the

world's judgment," said Schiller, and certainly he therein pronounced

an important truth, of which truth where do we find a more evident

testimony than here, where the most momentous portion of the

intellectual cultivation of the human race is concerned? But to come to

the matter.

In far antiquity education was the business of domestic life; and how

imperfect it was, under such circumstances, we may easily conceive. The

parents, uninformed themselves, could impart to their children but very

scanty information; the whole of life was rather a vegetation, a

physical rather than an inward and intellectual existence. It was then

first, as population increased and state compacts were organized, that

a kind of schools arose, because men then learned to see that it was

only by intellectual ascendency that it was possible to work upon the

rude mass. The teachers of such schools were the priests; but the

scholars were such alone as, according to their custom, were destined

to some high office. We thus see that real Folk's schools were not then

in existence; there was, in fact, no conception of them; and what more

was necessary to say on the subject of the schools of former ages, we

have already given under the head, Universities. Those institutions

were calculated rather for the higher range of education, and are to be

regarded as the forerunners of our universities, on which account we

may here pass them over.

It is only with the time of Charlemagne that we can begin to talk of

Folk's-education and Folk's-schools. Besides the Scola Palatii, founded

by him, and which was placed under the management of his friend Alcuin,

he also originated and promoted in the convents the idea of a female

education. He and Alfred of England are the true founders of village

and country schools. National education owes to them an improvement the

most excellent and rich with blessings; alas! that the age was not ripe

enough to give a ready hand of co-operation to these noble reformers.

Before this time, ay, from the very promulgation of the Christian

religion, the priests had striven incessantly to monopolise the

instruction of the people, and to throw it entirely into the hands of

their order; a fact most prominently testified by the catechetical

schools of the second and third centuries, the later episcopal and

cathedral schools, and, after the sixth century, those most influential

cloister schools. And as it had thus been their constant policy to

secure the absolute possession and direction of popular instruction,

this became the case again, after the death of these noble monarchs,

when every thing had fallen once more into the old track, and these

very institutions, which they had planned and founded, became still

more effectual tools in their hands. What might and would result from

such a predominating hierarchical tendency, experience has taught us.

The selfish interests of a form of religion, degraded to the most

crafty state-policy, were made the motives for keeping mankind in

darkness. The understanding was oppressed by the diffusion of

superstition; and under the hypocritical cloak of sanctity, beneath

which the most unhallowed fanaticism concealed itself, the priesthood

compelled humanity to wander on in blindness and error. The reforms of

Charlemagne were as good as forgotten, and the proper Folk's-schools

were swallowed up in the darkness of the Middle Ages. What was done in

course of time through the exertions of such men as the Emperor

Frederick I. took the direction of the high educational institutions,

and wholly concerned the universities, which had for a long period been

striving to make themselves independent, and, in fact, were so. In the

fourteenth century a ruddy streak of dawn showed itself, which though

but faintly pervading the darkness, yet at a later period harbingered

the sun. Gerhardus Magnus first spoke out the idea of a free education

with perspicuity. In 1379 he founded an educational institution at

Deventer, in this spirit, and thereby led to the creation of similar

institutions in the Netherlands, on the Rhine, and in North Germany.

Montaigne, Bacon, and Lord Verulam, were powerful advocates of this

idea, which, being only more and more stimulated by the reaction-system

of the hierarchy, lead to the epoch of the fifteenth century.

The well-to-do Buerger-class began to erect city-corporation, or

writing-schools, as they were called, and found themselves obliged to

appoint masters to them at their own cost, as the clergy more and more

neglected their office of teaching. The clergy, however, exerted all

their power against these schools, on grounds which touched them

nearly, for they feared a diminution of their income and their power

through a greater enlightenment of the people. Under these

circumstances the Folk's-schools could not prosper; they either fell

speedily, or totally degenerated. The city-schools which were founded

in the sixteenth century, and called Latin-schools, were scantily

enough endowed, and the proper Folk's-schools were in a still more

miserable condition most of those in the villages falling to decay, and

those which did still exist scarcely being worthy of the name.

But the dawn of a new era soon broke, and the arduous and holy warfare

of the Reformation threw light into the darkness of the human mind. Men

were now seen to contend for knowledge, and strove to rend asunder the

dishonourable bonds which, in a more animal condition, had been riveted

upon them. Luther arose, and with him a new order of things in the

conduct of schools was called forth. Many worthy schoolmasters, who had

already gone forth from the pedagogic brotherhood of Gerhardus Magnus

at Deventer, and from the Rhenish Society of Learned Men, founded by

Conrad Celtes for the restoration of classical antiquity, had prepared

the way for the great Reformers. How illustriously shine out in the

fifteenth and sixteenth centuries the names of Desiderius Erasmus,

Johann Reuchlin, Johann Dalberg, Rudolph Agricola, Wilibald Pirkheimer.

They are like sacred signs of an approaching better time for the school

affairs of the civilized world; and they all strengthened powerfully

the hands of Luther, Melancthon, Zuinglius, since they treated schools,

and the whole business of education, in a magnanimous spirit. To point

out the active services of these men would lead us too far; it must

suffice simply to remark that continually more, and fresh, and faithful

teachers came forth, amongst whom, Johann Sturm, Valentin Friedland,

also called Trotzendorf, Michael Neander, Johann Casselius, and

Christian Hellwich, were especially distinguished. If a great want was

still here and there visible, yet the path being once broken open, a

retreat was by no means to be thought of, and the discovery of

Guttenberg contributed not a little to make this impossible. The

labours of Wolfgang Ratich and Johann Amors Comenius are of peculiar

importance, whose works are known, and in which they treat of the

natural and complete developement of all the powers of the human mind,

especially of the understanding and the imagination. Pestalozzi's ideas

here lie in embryo before us.

Soon after the appearance of these men, and the springing up of schools

framed according to their views, the Jesuits made every exertion to

draw the management of education to themselves; and they succeeded to a

certain extent, since with their usual political acumen, they easily

saw that it was necessary for them entirely to imitate the form and

matter of the evangelical schools. But the stratagem of these

satellites of the hierarchy was soon seen through, and the best

consequences were to be hoped, had not the storms of the Thirty Years'

War crushed so many promising germs and scattered so much beautiful

fruit. School economy, during such an epoch, could only wearily

maintain itself; the miserable management of ignorant teachers, the

simple consequence of that fanatical rage, made the prosperity of

schools a thing beyond hope. Yet this reaction actually hastened the

entrance of a better spirit, which soon found its warmest advocates in

Fenelon, Ph. T. Spener, but especially in A. H. Franke.

The activity of the last worthy man had an eminently auspicious

influence; and other zealous characters soon enrolled themselves in the

list of the friends of knowledge; as Godfried Zeidler, who simplified

the mode of spelling; Valentin Hein, and Sulzer, who, 1700-1799,

introduced an improved mode of teaching arithmetic. But, unfortunately,

there soon grew in the Folk's-schools a deadly poison of all

good--Mysticism, which was carried by the teachers to a most

mischievous length. Equally blighting lay the pharisaical constraint of

evangelical orthodoxy on the school system, not less influentially than

that of the Romish hierarchy. It was not till philanthropy raised its

head in the middle of the eighteenth century, through the influence of

Locke, Rousseau, and Bassedow, that the school system appeared

earnestly to seek to improve itself. Locke was the first to treat with

a philosophical spirit educational tuition, as a connected whole. T. P.

Crousatz followed in the same path. In Germany, the fiery Bassedow, in

1768, took up the Rousseau enthusiasm, and sought to plant the ideas of

this philosopher in his native soil.

We imagine that we have so far conducted the reader that he can easily

follow the description of the institutions for popular education of our

time. We have arrived at the position we recently alluded to, and have

with it reached also, that exact point of union whence all that

succeeds diverges. Although it yet remains to be shown how the various

kinds of schools have gradually developed themselves, we believe we may

pass over this part of the subject, as on the one hand all that is

necessary may be inferred from what has just been said, and on the

other, they are too much a part of the present not to be well known to

all. Let us therefore proceed to an illustration of the system of our

Folk's-schools, which divide themselves into higher and lower; and in

the first place notice the lower, as

THE ELEMENTARY, OR PROPER FOLK'S-SCHOOLS.

In matters of school economy, the Catholics in Germany continued far

behind the Protestants, because they cherished the notion that

diffusion of knowledge amongst the people was dangerous to the state;

and therefore most carefully cut off all possible opportunities for

advancing popular instruction; whereas the Protestants, on the

contrary, from the last half of the eighteenth century, spared no

sacrifice for the promotion of such an object. Such men as Campe,

Salzmann, Trapp, rendered services to instruction in a more restricted

sense, since they began to reduce the science of tuition to a system;

but Rochou was the first who undertook, in the spirit of philanthropy,

to work a genuine reformation in the Folk's-schools. Then appeared

Pestalozzi, who grounded education on the natural developement of the

powers and capacities themselves. His system, which proved its worth in

the severe trials that it underwent in the hands of Tillich, Plaman,

Schwartz, Ewald, Tuerk, Ladomus, Herbert, Zeller, Harnisch, Kant,

Fichte, Schelling, Jean Paul, Arndt, P[oe]litz, Stephani, Dinter, and

others, found, by degrees, general acceptance; and our present school

system may with perfect justice be styled the Pestalozzian. But for the

necessary preparatory education of teachers themselves, earnest care

was soon taken, and a great number of school-teacher seminaries were

founded, in which this class of men must study and qualify themselves,

and which to them must stand in the same relation as the universities

to the professors of scientific and general knowledge. By these means

the general improvement of the business of education experienced only

accelerating circumstances; and now even Catholic countries,

particularly those in which many Protestants dwell, ceased to hang

back, and there is now scarcely a place in Germany which does not

possess a school; scarcely a state whose government has not thrown out

a plan of education more or less adapted to its end. Yes; foreign

nations themselves now acknowledge the preeminence of Germany in school

economy.

On a closer inquiry into the organization of these proper

Folk's-schools, the great variety of the same however strikes us, and

we cannot here omit to notice a circumstance which is of the most

essential importance. In many--yes, in most of the country schools, are

the school establishments subdivided according to the different

confessions of faith; and this circumstance extends itself even to the

schools of the smallest villages. Although the greater part of these

are placed under the jurisdiction of a High Board, and are formed, more

or less, on a common plan, yet the disadvantage is not to be denied,

which must necessarily result from such a system of subdivision. We

have observed above how much all Catholic countries lay behind in

popular enlightenment, which alone flourishes through popular

instruction; and we must, we regret to say, remark that this sorrowful

experience again manifests itself as an attribute of these aforesaid

school institutions. How very different is it in the Protestant

schools! If unlimited freedom of teaching is given to those as well as

these, yet the opinions taught are very different, and the consequences

of an all-too scrupulous observation of dogmatic forms, not the most

agreeable, are seen in the Catholic schools. On the contrary, the

Protestant schools follow, free from constraint, every direction of the

mind, and the foundation of a philosophical system is here first

discernible.

In strong contradistinction to both these, stand the so-called

Communal-schools, as those which are intended for children of each

denomination. These schools, wherever they exist, exert the most

beneficent influence on the people. The foundation pillars of all human

happiness. Tolerance and Intelligence, find here the securest

guarantees for their enduring existence; since, however much men have

striven or may strive to counteract them, it continues still

incontestably true, that the first impressions on the minds of children

are the most vivid and permanent, and the spirit in later years of life

pursues its course in accordance with such impressions. It requires no

demonstration to show how rich in blessings is such a school system;

and the reader will excuse us turning now to a further pursuit of our

theme.

It is particularly to be observed, that various attempts have been made

to extend these school regulations so far as to allow boys and girls to

be taught altogether in one and the same class. Such experiments were,

however, for the most part confined to such places where the

circumstances entirely permitted their trial, which was only here and

there; and such school dispositions yet exist. But generally, the

instruction is given to boys and girls in one building, but in separate

rooms.

Before we cast a glance at the mode of school tuition, we will

passingly remark, that in most German towns there are, besides the

proper Folk's-schools, many establishments for boys and girls, as well

for elementary as for more complete education. These stand, however, in

no connexion with the Folk's-schools, and do not profess in the

slightest degree to employ the same machinery. Yet these educational

establishments in the present time deserve so much attention, that to

say only what is barely necessary upon them would lead us too far.

The subjects of instruction in the Folk's-schools are these: reading,

writing, arithmetic, geography, natural history, history; in the

higher classes, mathematics, geometry; instruction in the German

language;--extended also to a higher style of penmanship, drawing, and

music, seldom more than choral singing, and instruction in religion,

which last is not given by the teachers but by the pastors of the

respective faiths.

When each branch of education has not its individual teacher appointed

in these schools, the charge of such instruction is consigned to a

teacher expressly qualified for it. Mistresses are also appointed for

the girls, as well to teach them the ordinary school branches, as

hand-work. Of this organization, however, the schools only of the

larger cities can boast themselves. In most of the German towns, the

parents are obliged to send their children into the schools from their

sixth year. If they wish to give to their children an education in

another place, more particularly if they would have them privately

educated, or would send them to some particular institution, they must

for that purpose ask permission of the proper Board. On the part of

persons of high position, or of great property, this is very frequently

the case, but they are seldom on this account exempt from the payment

of the school impost, as this defrays part of the expense of the

system, and has, therefore, to be well looked after by government.

The schools are divided into classes, according to the respective

studies; that is, into systematic divisions, according to the

circumstances of the increasing evolutions of the subjects of study. No

age qualifies a child to advance into a higher class, but capacity and

acquirement alone. And in order to give to the parents an account of

the activity of the school system, as well as of the acquirements of

the scholars in particular, annual examinations are held publicly, in

which what has been taught and learned is brought forward with all

possible despatch, and at which the parents are present, that they may

convince themselves of the truth of the matter. These public

examinations at the same time serve to excite the scholars to activity,

as rewards for diligence and good conduct are distributed, and thus a

moral value is added to the political one of these institutions.

Whatever relates to the arrangement of these schools in their outward

form, in their connexions and relations to the state, and the like, in

a word, whatever belongs to the administration of the whole, may, in

running our observations through them, be pronounced to be a good.

All the teachers are placed under the control of an upper teacher: in

cities where there are at the same time gymnasia, commonly under the

director or rector of the same; or they are under the special oversight

of the principal clergymen of the respective faiths. These are, again,

dependent on the school college, or Upper Council of Studies, which, in

connexion with the Upper Consistorium, constitutes the highest Board.

In how far this whole arrangement constitutes one complete and

homogeneous scheme of education institutions, including the

universities themselves, we will hereafter take an opportunity to point

out; we now proceed to describe the higher institutions for instruction

which are expressly intended for the people. The next in order are

THE REAL SCHOOLS;[27]

CALLED ALSO MIDDLE SCHOOLS, HIGHER BUeRGER SCHOOLS, ETC.

The origin of these schools we owe, as we have said, to Bassedow, who

transplanted the ideas of Rousseau to Germany, which found, by degrees,

a complete introduction, especially amongst the tradespeople; yet the

Real-schools of that period--the end of the last century, are by no

means to be considered as synonymous with the present ones, although

they then excited a general interest and acquired for themselves a

tolerably high position. They agree entirely in this, that they were

schools for those who were not intended to go forward to the

universities, and yet whose future destinations demanded, in some

measure a higher education than ordinary. The subjects of instruction

in them were particularly--geography, history, the natural sciences,

calculation, technology, etc. The first, however, in a more extended

range than in the lower class of Folk's-schools; these, as they at

present exist, and especially such as are organized on the most recent

plans, are not merely higher Buerger-schools, but indeed such as might

qualify for an academical course. People are, however, far from agreed

upon the rights of these schools; upon the determination of their

relations to the gymnasia, the universities, etc.; at least, in many

German states, great debates have arisen upon this debatable point, and

which are yet by no means brought to a conclusion.

The Real-schools divide themselves into Higher Gewerb[28]--

Polytechnical Institutions--and Provincial Real-schools, or Higher

Buerger Schools.

Now it is evident, that in consequence of the assumption of the higher

subjects of tuition, as foreign languages, the higher mathematics,

physics, etc., by the first institutions, a disadvantage may occur to

the Gymnasia, insomuch as all those who are expressly educated for

branches of state official service, for offices of finance, of the

forests, of general administration, etc., are educated in the Gymnasia.

These, and other reasons which we will explain, in noticing the

Gymnasia, have been, and probably will long continue to be the causes,

that no result sufficiently satisfactory to both parties, however much

desired, can be arrived at. But the decidedly advantageous influence

which the collective body of Real-schools exert, and which it will more

and more extend by still continually extending its sphere of action, is

not, however, to be mistaken; and if this excites a spirit of

hostility, there cannot be a more palpable reason assigned for it than

that which is drawn from a rich experience by a great philologist, and

thus expressed:--"What is _new_ is not always wholesome; but even the

necessary _new_, and which afterwards proves itself to be an actual

_advance_, is certain in its commencement to be attacked."

Let us now glance at the internal arrangements of these schools; and

indeed of the Higher Gewerb-schools--literally Trade schools--as the

so-called provincial Real-schools are neither more nor less than better

elementary schools, or rather schools preparatory to the Higher

Gewerb-schools; and as so many of the real branches of education are

undertaken in them. To these provincial or preparatory schools belong

the teaching of physics, natural history, the elements of chemistry,

modelling, book-keeping, etc.; instruction in the French, English, and

Latin languages; drawing and singing; the former subjects, however,

only in the higher classes. The subjects of tuition in the Higher

Gewerb, or technical schools, are, on the contrary, mathematics,

algebra, plane trigonometry, analytical geometry in all its branches

and modes of practical application; higher algebra, differential and

integral calculus, plan-drawing and machine-drawing, botany and

zoology, and physiology of plants, geognosy, geology; experimental

chemistry, technical chemistry, analytical chemistry, practical

chemical operations; mineralogy; mechanics, statistic and dynamic,

experimental physics, free hand-drawing, modelling in wood and metal,

and instruction in German, French, English and Latin languages, and

history.

It may easily be seen, from this glance at the subjects of instruction,

how comprehensive these educational institutions are. To attempt to

describe the advantages that they afford would lead us too far, and

lies out of our track; but the subject deserves the attention of the

whole civilized world, as its consequences must become continually more

striking. The circumstances of our times demand a real education; that

is, in the practical arts and sciences. One has long ceased to desire

that every man shall be every thing; one wishes rather that every one

should be qualified to fill with ability his particular post. The

philosophical school compulsion which rules in the Gymnasia is here

entirely nonexistent. The all-sided human accomplishment which the

Gymnasia aim at, and ought to aim at more or less, is not arrived at in

these schools, because it is contrary to their object and intention;

but on the other hand, they afford the opportunity more thoroughly to

throw the minds of the scholars on those subjects which are the most

congenial to them, and which will consequently be most serviceable to

them in their profession. We ourselves, far from being admirers of a

too strict, and therefore forced and one-sided practical education,

cannot help calling to mind the splendid proofs of the advantageous and

excellent working of these praiseworthy schools, since they have

impressed us with the conviction that in this manner able men have been

educated not only for the state, but for science, notwithstanding the

short time that these institutions have flourished.

THE GYMNASIA

May now claim our attention, which, particularly through the conflict

which has arisen between them and the Real-schools, must possess an

especial interest.

We must, in the first place, remark, that the word itself expresses no

actual conception of the thing, as a gymnasium properly means an open

place, where the youth were instructed in philosophy,--in fact, an

associate-school. In Athens there were three of them: the Academia, the

Lyceum, and Cynosarges. The origin of the gymnasium and the nature of

its internal business as a higher educational institution, are simply

indicated by the term. To trace what modifications these schools have

undergone from that period to the present would be a too widely

excursive notice for our present purpose. We shall, under this head,

understand only such as strongly mark themselves out by their tendency

from the schools already described, and which properly divide

themselves into the Latin-school, Progymnasium, Gymnasium, and the

Lyceum.

The first three are properly schools for future learned men, artists,

&c; and in the state in which they exist, as in Bavaria, the studies

are commenced in the Latin school, and are ended in the Gymnasium, as

the school preparatory for the university.

By the Lyceum, in a restricted sense of the word, we understand such a

school as seems to conduct to a certain point, the education of the

students of the scientific faculty; although in the first, that is, in

the Gymnasia, etc., all subjects of study are facultative. For the rest

it is very difficult to give a description of these schools which shall

express their real character, since in every one of the German states

they have different names with different meanings, and in many places

bear various appellations where they possess the same tendency. The

Gymnasium and Lyceum equally signify schools which give a course of

education expressly preparatory to an academical career, and we shall

therefore include both under the general name of Gymnasium.

The elementary instruction, let it have been acquired as it will, must

have made a certain advance before the scholar can enter the Gymnasium,

since in the lowest classes--the Gymnasium is divided into classes in

the same manner as the Folk's-schools--are taught the elements of the

Latin tongue, history, mathematics, etc. Here are especial teachers for

every faculty of science; that is, one teacher, particularly in the

higher classes, teaches one determinate subject.

The study of the ancient classics continues still the chief business,

since the German philologists conceive that they constitute the only

and indispensable gymnastics of the mind. This is another ground by

which these schools have come into open feud with the Realist tendency

of the age--why the Gymnasia have dreaded an encroachment on their

rights through the rapid growth and influence of Real-schools; because

they feared that the public would come to see in their effects, that

there was another mode of awaking the spirit to an internal activity

than by the study of the dead languages.

It is not to be denied that through the study of the ancients the

spirit is awakened; the sense of the noble and the great is inspired;

that the poetical feeling is excited,--the taste purified, and the

reason strengthened; that the mind is accustomed to a logical activity,

and especially to self-reflection. But the schoolmen go too far with

this. They are orthodox, and are contented that the future learned

should here find their necessary nourishment. They will, in general,

acknowledge no other learning or education than that of the Gymnasium,

and torment every one with it who, as a future tradesman, can manage

his affairs perfectly without this knowledge, and can bring by it

little or nothing out of the school into his own trade. Yet at present

the Gymnasia strive so far to meet the acknowledged necessities of the

time, that they have adopted some of the educational subjects of the

Real-schools, as mathematics, and the natural sciences in the fullest

sense of the word. The subjects of tuition, with the exception of the

predominant teaching of the ancient languages, are in general those of

the other schools; that is, of the Folk's-schools, in a higher degree.

The relation to the state is the same as that which we have already

made ourselves acquainted with in the Folk's-schools; and we will now

only explain a few more of the peculiarities of the Gymnasia.

A totally different discipline prevails in the Gymnasia to that of the

Folk's-schools. Corporal punishments here, for the most part, cease in

the higher classes entirely. Tasks, shutting up, open reproof, but

especially moral restraint, are the means employed for correction. The

teachers also stand in a totally different position in regard to their

scholars; at least in the higher classes there is less school

compulsion, though probably on that account not the less pedantry to be

observed. In general, the gymnasiast is already more free, and placed

in greater external advantage than the scholars of the other schools;

the near prospect of student life calls forth, not seldom,

extravagances, which, however, are contended with more vigorously by

the teachers, but through the advanced age of the youths are not

readily repressed. Though it is strictly forbidden, yet the gymnasiast

frequently resorts secretly to public places of diversion, inns, etc.;

he also begins to smoke, and to become regardless of conventional

relations. In many cities the gymnasiasts have actually endeavoured, of

course only the older ones, to form corporations, and to imitate the

university Chores. But spite of all this, the constant and great

diligence of the gymnasiasts is not to be denied. They exert

themselves, because they know that it is only by that means that they

can arrive at promotion; that is, that they can obtain the right to

enter the university. We must here break off a moment to notice a

particular which is of essential importance.

The Exemption-and-Maturity-Right[29] belongs exclusively to the

Gymnasia--another cause which has called forth in many German states

contentions, the other schools already making claims on this privilege.

Nothing can indeed be more vexatious, and even in many cases,

unsettling, than for an able scholar of the Real-school, after he has

passed his examination, and has given ample proof that he is quite

qualified to enter the university, to have again to make the course of

the Gymnasium, again to weary himself with the reading and study of the

ancient classics, entirely for the sake of the formality of promotion,

which might just as well be conferred on the Real-schools, and by which

money and more especially time might be spared. From the higher

position which these schools have already assumed, it is, however, to

be expected that this injustice will be done away with, at least, that

the Exemption-and-Maturity-Right will be extended to those Real

scholars who devote themselves to state science, and to those

professions which are included in it.

We cannot here avoid taking the opportunity of remarking that, through

the contention of these two institutions, which we have thus described

according to their different motives, there stands before the Gymnasium

a reorganization, unless the _ancienne regime_ maintains the upper

hand; that is, if the onesidedness of the strong philological party,

which aims at a total isolation of the two institutions, or rather at a

complete prevention of their co-operation, shall not achieve the

triumph of upholding the Gymnasia in the most unlimited possession of

their antiquated privileges; are not, indeed, prepared to resist the

stream of time by main force, and to deprive the Real-schools of their

equally high importance. The conflict is severe, because prejudices are

here attacked; but the impetus of human advancement surmounts every

difficulty, and the spirit of man knows no restraint which ultimately

may not be broken through;--but we must return to our subject.

When the gymnasiast has passed through all the classes, he then

undergoes his examination. As in the Folk's-schools, so in the Gymnasia

also, there are held annual public examinations for the same purpose;

to which, however, is added a government commissioner, for the

examination of the Abiturienten; that is, of those who are about to

depart, and proceed to the university. This commissioner has to

pronounce his solemn judgment upon the performances of the Abiturient,

according to which his promotion is allowed or not. This is generally

accompanied on the part of the Abiturient by a farewell, or other

speech, which is usually composed in Latin or French, and on that of

the School College by a public summons to the university, to which is

added the necessary school-certificates.

It is now curious to see how the Abiturient will conduct himself from

the moment that he turns his back on the Gymnasium. Not a book will be

looked at; not a pen will be touched; he recompenses himself

immediately for the school torment that he has passed through, by a

delightful do-nothing; and gives himself up in anticipation to the

blessed consciousness of student life. The foretaste of awakening

liberty leads him to commit a thousand follies; he imagines himself

lord of the world, and knows no conventional restraints. The parents

have the worst of it, as they are seldom in a situation to put a

salutary damper upon the forth-bursting storm of the mind of the youth.

To travel is rule the first with which the Abiturient busies himself;

that is, in which he seeks to sound the depths, and explore the regions

of the desired freedom. His great endeavour is now to knit up

acquaintances with students, and so comes he easily into student life.

But in many places it is customary that the Abiturient should give a

farewell entertainment. Thither are invited the best of his friends

from the abandoned school, and his new ones amongst the students; and

the whole takes much the character of a Commers. It is, moreover,

regarded as a ceremonial act, and is introduced by the singing of the

customary song--The Land's Father. From this period the Abiturient

bears the name of Camel, which he has acquired in exchange for the

abdicated one of Frog.

It may be sufficient to remark, that the educational institutions of

every kind keep tolerably equal step with the universities. That

Germany bears away the crown of school economy from all other

countries, is not to be denied. Or where is the country which has more

flourishing schools than Prussia, Wirtemberg, Baden, etc.

We here conclude with the words with which we commenced--"the

nineteenth century is the age of enlightenment;" and Germany propels at

the highest speed its spirit towards intellectual consciousness. It

possesses a moral vigour which no other nation of the earth possesses,

and the giant arms of German art and science embrace the whole wide

surface of the globe with an all-living power.

CHAPTER XIV.

SONG AN INDISPENSABLE REQUISITE TO THE STUDENT, AS TO ALL

GERMANS.

Where man sings, lie down--there certain peace is;

Amongst the bad, all song of gladness ceases.

Traverse the whole territory of Germany, every where, in the north and

in the south, thou wilt hear German songs.

What is the German's Fatherland?

So name me, finally, that land!

"Far as the German's free tongue springs,

And hymns to God in heaven sings,"

That shall it be, while sun doth shine!

That land, brave German, call it thine!

Serious and deep feeling are characteristic traits of the German, and

may indeed distinguish his character, so variously modified as it is,

amid all the divisions of the German race, and by its manifold points

of contact with its foreign boundary neighbours, and thus becoming

tinged with so many colours. He who has the skill to clear the original

colour from its foreign mixtures, will continually find it lying as the

one ground colour, which always remains the same. To this depth and

sincerity of feeling the songs and poetry of the Germans are a

necessity. As to the man--when all the chords of his heart are shaken

by some mighty sorrow; when they threaten to rend asunder under the

excess of agony--as then to him comes a flood of tears as a relief;

which, as it were, combines the contending feelings of his internal

being, and amalgamates them with the most neutral body--water; so song

presents itself as a medium to prevent us from succumbing beneath an

overwhelming feeling, which the sufferer would fain clothe in words,

but finds all words too poor to represent. Let a language be as rich as

it will, it may possibly express all that man thinks, but not all that

he feels. Nature has lent the eye to the understanding that it may

serve it, and in which it may wonderfully mirror itself. In this

microcosm of the eye, her creative power has marvellously repeated, in

little, every part of his masterpiece--man; and has so completely

furnished it, that it can answer most admirably to its destination--to

conduct man to the truth. But nature has bestowed upon her favourite

yet another sense, through which the fibres of his brain can instantly

be put into vibration. Through this she has rendered his position in

society delightful, and endowed him with sensibility to foreign

communications.

But shall these be the only advantages which this sense shall procure

him? No; through this shall external impressions enter, which,

corresponding with the laws of beauty, shall furnish him with a new

enjoyment. Through this, feeling can be constantly and directly acted

upon--that portion of the human soul where the animal and the divine

nature so wonderfully meet. In vain would he attempt to escape from its

lordship; its power extends farther than appears at the first sight;

and when sufficiently observed, is found to be the ultimate spring of

all human operations. Other nations may, if they please, believe that

the ear was given them in order to listen to strange language,--the

German is not so cruel as to rend Euterpe and Polyhymnia out of the

band of the Nine Sisters. Every where in Germany are altars built to

these sisters, and the goddesses smile down approval on the people,

because they deem themselves worthy to scatter incense before them.

The faith in the mysterious might of music and of song, which so

beautifully expressed itself in the Mythology of the Greeks, shone

forth also in newer Sagas; and even refined Christendom has not

disdained to employ music to work upon the hearts of its votaries.

Goethe has done homage to this beautiful faith when, in his Prologue to

Faust, he causes Raphael to speak.

The sun, in its old way, goes sounding,

With brother-spheres in rival song,

And its prescribed course thus rounding,

Careers with thunder-speed along.

Thus the Germans rejoice themselves in an affluence of popular songs,

although they possess but few national poets. This latter fact easily

explains itself, when one reflects how late the German speech arrived

at a greater perfection, and that, at the same time that Germany

achieved a literary independence and literary greatness, it lost its

political freedom, and came out of its captivity a dismembered whole.

Take from Germany its wine, its songs, and we might name yet a third

particular of a less middle character,[30] and it will become quite

another country. The German expresses the most varied feelings in song,

though he does not go quite so far as the opera, in which you cannot,

without smiling, hear the Czar of Russia conclude a contract with the

English and French ambassadors singing, and ratify the Treaty of Peace

in the most exquisite melodies. But the Germans acknowledge the truth

of what Goethe has said:

What I erred in, what I sought for;

What I lived through, what I fought for;

Are but flowers in this bouquet:

And the young, the old and ailing,

And each virtue as each failing,

Speak their language in some lay.

The common man in Germany sings as he goes to his labour; he sings

while he works, in order to enliven himself, and when he has concluded

he naturally sounds forth his song of satisfaction. A pleasure, without

the accompaniment of singing, he does not understand. Thus the

foreigner, who has a taste for singing, hears, with surprise, a

chorus-song resounding from a public-house, or passing along the

streets, which might not sustain a very severe criticism, but which

does all honour to the uneducated singers. So they establish themselves

in the smallest villages into Gesang-vereine (singing companies), and

the author recollects with particular pleasure, a serenade, which he

heard in returning late one evening from Schriesheim, in the village of

Handschuhsheim; and also the delightful choral-song, which a company of

peasants and peasantesses, frequently raised in the summer evenings in

the castle-gardens at Schwetzingen, and which in the stillness of

twilight, when the splashing of the distant fountains were only heard

besides, produced an extraordinary effect.

Thus it happens that songs of simple contents and of simple airs,

spread themselves rapidly amongst the people, and by no other means in

Germany can you so speedily operate on the popular mind as through the

medium of such songs. In almost every different place you hear

different songs. As an example of these songs, which are current

amongst the people, we may here give a very favourite one, which is

sung in a sort of half recitative.

PRINCE EUGENE.[31]

Prince Eugene, that noble captain,

For the Emp'ror fain would back win,

Town and fortress of Belgrade,

And that they at once might do it,

And the army all rush to it,

Caused he that a bridge be made,

When this work so far had ran on,

That with baggage and with cannon

They could pass the Danube flood,

By Semlin struck they their tents all,

And to chase the Turks they went all,

To chase them far with jibes and blood.

It fell on the twenty-first of August,

There came a spy through rain and storm-gust,

Swore to the Prince, and showed him then,

That the Turks did near him hover,

As far as man could them discover,

With three hundred thousand men.

When Prince Eugene thou comprehended,

He bade that he should be attended

By his generals and field-marshals;

He caused them to be instructed

How the troops should be conducted,

And upon the foe should fall.

Through the parole the word was given,

That when they count one and eleven

At the midnight by the clock,

Every man to horse should go then,

For to skirmish with the foemen,

All who strength had for the shock.

All to horse at once then leaping,

And their swords before them keeping,

Swift and silent they advance;

The troopers and hussars also then,

Struck right stoutly, blow for blow then,

'Twas, in truth, a lovely dance.

Gunners to the walls advancing,

Play ye music to this dancing,

With your cannons great and small;

With the great ones, with the lesser,

On the Turks! and on the Heathens!

Till they scamper one and all!

Prince Eugenius on the right wing,

Like a lion there was fighting,

As general and field-marshal.

Prince Ludwig rode to and fro then,

"On, be brave, ye German brethren,

Strike the foe with dauntless hands!"

Prince Ludwig he must surrender

His spirit and his life so tender,

For a bullet struck him down;

Prince Eugene was sorely grieved

Of such friend to be bereaved,

And had him brought to Peterwardein.

The Bauer, the Handworker, the Sportsman, in short, each and all have

their peculiar songs in abundance, which are never out of their mouths.

Do all Germans then sing, and sing they everywhere? some one may ask.

No, don't fear that you would actually be deafened with singing in

Germany. The Bundestag,[32] when it holds its sitting; the Landtag,[33]

when it is in debate; the statesman in the business of his office; the

learned man writing his dissertation, and many other people, don't

sing; in short, people do not sing in their solemn affairs, though the

opera makes them do so. But amongst those who have nothing better to

do, the little children who have yet no proper voices, or initiated

ears for it, and the very old people who have partly sent their teeth

before them into another world, are the only ones that don't sing. The

young sing much, the care-free young still more; and the students

perhaps most of all.

Singest thou not through all thy lifelong hours?

Yet in thy youth rejoice;

We hear alone while lasts the moon of flowers

The nightingale's sweet voice.

_Uhland_.

It is this also which gives heart to the student; and how can he who is

called the son of the Muses, do otherwise than be obedient to his

divine mother? The so-called Commers-Books contain a rich collection of

songs, so that the student can be in no embarrassment to find one

suitable to the moment. He finds here a song adapted to every occasion,

and to every mood of mind. Before all, social songs are in requisition

when the students are assembled at their Kneip for a merry meeting.

As the larger assemblies of this kind are called Commers, so the

song-books are called the Commers-Books.

When a song is sung by a number of them in company, it is the duty of

the Foxes to hand round these books. The popular songs live, however,

without the books, permanently in the minds of the students. An

individual student often sings a song solo. The greater portion of them

are only what may be called natural singers; but in a large Chore this

is not of much consequence. In most of the German schools a portion,

but a very scanty portion of instruction in singing is given, and this

mainly with the object of preventing the people from too much

disturbing the devotions of the congregations in the churches by their

dissonance. By this, however, so much is gained, that every one who has

afterwards neglected singing, yet still retains a notion of it. There

is besides sure to be found amongst such a throng of students, no

inconsiderable number, who possess a really fine voice, and which has,

therefore, not been neglected. These are they who in the Kneips often

execute a solo, or in the choral-songs undertake the solo part, and

others endeavour, by the power and steadiness of their voices, to

conceal the defects of those who sing with them. When, as often happens

in summer, the company suffer their songs to float in the open air, and

when the cups have not gone too diligently their round, it is then a

genuine pleasure to listen to them. One of the most beautiful songs,

and which is most frequently sung at the German universities, is this,

in which the effect of the chorus is often strengthened by the

accompaniment of instrumental music:--

COMMERS SONG.

From high Olympus comes our pleasures crowning,

From thence our dream of youth was sent;

Therefore trust brothers, spite of Envy's frowning,

Who would our youthful joys prevent.

Solemnly sound ye the jubilant song.

Revelling brothers with beaker clang.

Deep in the sea of youthful pleasure drinking,

Joy smiles and beckons from the shore;

Till on some evening late the bright sun sinking,

Delights us with its beams no more!

Solemnly, etc.

So long as pleaseth God, thus friends beloved,

In gladness shall our life move on;

And when, some day, the curtain is removed,

We'll join our worthy fathers gone,

Solemnly, etc.

Drink, brother, drink! thy loved one,--think upon her,

She who thy youth's dream blesseth still;

A glorious "Ho!" now sound we to her honour,

That through her every nerve shall thrill!

Solemnly, etc.

And of our brethren is there one departed--

By pale Death summoned in his bloom?

We weep, and wish him peace, all saddest hearted,

Peace to our brother's silent tomb.

We weep and wish that peace may dwell

In our dear brother's silent cell.

Very frequently in the students' drinking companies they sing a

roundelay, as we lately saw at the evening peep at them at Hoffmann's

rooms, where each one sings in turn a song, or, at least, a strophe.

This, as we have seen, they term a Sauf-Comment, which we may look at a

little more closely, as it is sometimes attended with variations. The

president of the Sauf-Comment sings,--

There goes a drinking-law oar table all around, around,

There goes a drinking-law our table all around.

Ten quarts and yet one-a

Ye knew well what I think on-a.

Ten measures and ten mo,

Fidibum! let one now go, let one now go, let one now go!

Or,

Three time three are nine-a,

Ye know well what I opine-a.

There goes a drinking-law our table all around!

When all have sung round till it comes to one who can find no more song

to sing, the Chore then sings--

Our brother, N. N.

To pitch, to pitch, is turned again.

Draw thou white-horse good,

Up to the knees in mud, etc.

The student has, again, other songs for festive celebrations and for

fun, as for the initiation of the Foxes, by the Fox-ride; for the

Commers; for the departure from the university; nor is he at all

wanting in songs proper for a serenade to his beloved. Love, Wine,

Fatherland, Friendship, of them the poets of a former age have sung,

and of them sing the poets of our own. These the songs of the student

celebrate, and the son of the Muses does not forget to enjoy his wine

while he sings of it, well knowing how very often the other things

exist rather in idea than in actuality.

And who should be more in the humour to sing a merry song than the

student, who revels in the enjoyment of the serene present, perhaps

shutting out a darker future from his eyes, which is yet separated from

him by his examination. This happy time, free from all cares, which

darken the later life of him who grasps at riches or at the phantom of

renown; this time, he knows well, comprehends but a few years,--"but

the whole of life," thinks he philosophically enough, "is but a span of

time, therefore let us the more enjoy these years, and celebrate with

song the felicity of youth." In this spirit they often sing and act

with great glee the following comic piece:

AN UNBOUNDED JOLLITY.

An unbounded jollity is of my life the rule, Sir,

Since it leads me gaily through youth's rosy paradise:

Comes a Manichean in, an old dunning fool, sir,

I'm sure to give him much good advice.

"'Slife! hear you now, sir, I want my gold."

"Cease jaw, Camel, I've none, and that's soon told."

_Spoken_.--Make thyself scarce. Old Lamentable! Give time! or I'll pay

thy long bill with five silver groschen. Agio.--We'll knock it all off

(pointing to his stick, and showing his five fingers.)

Quickly doth the old fool fly,

And I laugh till fit to die.

Pray then when a-fresh the rhino cometh in, sir.

An unbounded jollity, etc.

Morning to the lectures go; nine-pins in the evening;

Early, in old house-coat; not till late our toilet made.

To Commers then haste away,

For there's pawked in a Fox to-day.

_Spoken_.--"Silence, Fox! hold your tongue when Old Mossy Heads are

speaking."--"Ah! Heavens! I can drink no more of these healths. It

makes me so ill."--"Hold thy tongue, Fox! Thou hast yet only emptied

nineteen choppins of most excellent beer. It is not worth talking of.

Study only three years, and thou'lt bring it up to nine-and-twenty."

So we had the Commers here,

Jolly still with wine and beer,

For we are but young once, in our life so fleeting.

An unbounded jollity, etc.

Meet I now an Exquisite, who comes stately sailing,

Who right flat and swelling larger draws near.

Then trample I on his toe--then wondereth he;

I tread it again--then waxeth be wroth.

_Spoken_.---"Hear you there! Was that done purposely with the

foot!"--"No; it was done with the heel."--"So! but that appears to me

very strange?"--"Do me then the only pleasure; find nothing strange

here. You are a Stupid Youth!"

And the duel then is seen,

For the wit is mighty keen;--

Strike him a thundering Winkelquarte![34]

As unbounded jollity, etc.

Find I then a sweet maid and loving,

Then contains Ovidii Ars Amandi, good advice.

"Ay, but wilt thou marry me?"--"Don't be afraid;

When I've once my office got, 'twont be delayed."

_Spoken_.--"Aha! that's just as it happens! First I go to Jena, there

to study the _Nefas_; then go I to Heidelberg, study there the great

_Fasss_.[35] That's the way of it."