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Title: The Student-Life of Germany

Author: William Howitt

Release date: July 1, 2011 [eBook #36576]
                Most recently updated: January 7, 2021

Language: English

Credits: Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by the Web Archive


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STUDENT-LIFE OF GERMANY ***




Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by the Web Archive




Transcriber's Note:

   1. Page scan source:
      http://www.archive.org/details/studentlifegerm02corngoog

   2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe].





                                  THE

                        STUDENT-LIFE OF GERMANY.






                                  THE



                        STUDENT-LIFE OF GERMANY:


                           BY WILLIAM HOWITT.
   AUTHOR OF "THE RURAL LIFE OF ENGLAND," "BOOK OF THE SEASONS," ETC.


               FROM THE UNPUBLISHED MS. OF DR. CORNELIUS.


                     CONTAINING NEARLY FORTY OF THE


                       MOST FAMOUS STUDENT SONGS.


[Illustration]

                                   THINK OFT, YE BRETHREN;
            THINK OF THE GLADNESS OF OUR YOUTHFUL PRIME,--
            IT COMETH NOT AGAIN,--THAT GOLDEN TIME!

                                                 The Commers Book.



                             PHILADELPHIA:
                            CAREY AND HART.
                               MDCCCXLII.






            C. Sherman &, Co. Printers, 19 St. James Street






"How shall I call thee, thou high, thou rough, thou noble, thou
barbaric, thou loveable, unharmonious, song-full, repelling, yet
refreshing life of the Burschen years? How shall I describe you, ye
golden hours, ye choral-songs of brotherly love? What tone shall
I give to you to make myself understood? What colours to thee, thou
never-comprehended chaos? I shall describe thee? Never! Thy ludicrous
outside lies open; the layman sees that; one can describe that to him;
but thy inner and lovely ore, the miner only knows who goes singing
with his brethren into the deep shaft. He brings up gold; pure, solid
gold; be it much or little, it is still of high value. But this is not
his whole booty. What he sees there, he may not describe to the layman:
it were all too strange, and too precious for his ear. There are
spirits in the deep that no other ear can comprehend; no other eye
perceive. Music floats through those halls, which to every uninitiated
ear sounds empty and unmeaning. But to him who has felt with it and
sung with it, it gives a peculiar consecration; when he, moreover,
smiles over the hole in his cap which he has brought back with him as a
symbol.

"Old Grandfather! now know I what thou undertook when thou held thy
annual, solitary, intercalary day! Thou too hadst thy companions in the
days of thy youth, and the water stood in thy gray eyelashes when thou
marked one in thy stambook as entombed."

                                  _Hauff's Rathskeller in Bremen_.






                                PREFACE.


We have had various peeps and snatches of the Student-life of Germany,
from time to time, in our periodicals, but we have nothing like a
complete, and faithful account of it. Some of those accounts too, are
by English writers, who had at best but a partial and passing view of
this singular state of existence, and could not, however much they
might have seen of it, enter into it and comprehend it with the fulness
of apprehension and feeling which a native possesses. When I,
therefore, was thrown, on my first visit to Germany, into the midst of
its students, I began to inquire for a volume written by a German,
which should lay open the whole interior of that, whose surface was so
strange and so picturesque. I was told that no such thing, of any value
or completeness existed, and that, indeed, the students themselves were
jealous of the laws and customs of their ancient Burschendom being laid
open to the public. Yet, finding myself amongst those whose knowledge
and talents most entirely qualified them for making this exposition, I
did not cease till I had prevailed on one of the most gifted to
undertake the task, assisted by the experience of friends, who, like
himself, had passed through the mysteries of this singular life. The
present volume is the result; and I present it to the public with the
confident assurance, that whatever they may think of the portraiture,
they may depend upon its faithfulness. Spite of what that young and
popular writer, Hauff, has left on record in the extract which
immediately precedes these remarks, we have now penetrated the depths
of the Burschen-life; we have traversed its chaos, which he terms a
never-comprehended one; and have made the music of its most hidden
halls, audible and intelligible to all ears. I do not hesitate for a
moment to assert, that, taken as a whole, this volume will be found to
contain more that is entirely new and curious, than any one which has
issued from the press for years. The institutions and customs which it
describes, form the most singular state of social existence to be found
in the bosom of civilized Europe; and what renders them the more
curious and worthy of investigation is, that they are no recent and
evanescent frolic of eccentricity, but are as fast rooted into the
antiquity of German mind and manners as the universities themselves.
They have been modified and softened by time and advancing refinement,
but are not a whit nearer being rooted out, apparently, than they were
three hundred years ago. This state of things is here depicted by a
German himself, who has passed through it; and with that peculiar
feeling and appreciation which a German only can possess. It is in this
light that they are to be regarded. I do not here present myself as an
advocate or a caviller at this scheme of things, but merely as a
spectator, who, beholding something strange and curious, brings it to
the observation of his countrymen, in all truthfulness and simplicity
of representation, that they may judge of it for themselves. It has
been translated under the author's own eye, as it was written, and as
he is also acquainted with the English language, it may be reasonably
presumed to give a faithful transcript of his thoughts.

The two features of this Student-life which will meet with the most
repugnance in the English mind, are the Beer-duel, and the Sword-duel.
I have no desire to defend, far less to recommend either. I am, though
no advocate of a watery suction, miscalled Temperance, neither a
violent wine-bibber, nor "a fighting character." I do not even, like
our worthy friend Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton, while planning Niger
expeditions of civilization, brew XXX in London; nor, like many of my
countrymen, while attending church, or chapel in England, insist on
bombarding the Chinese because they wont be poisoned with my opium. I
merely let the worthy and learned author tell his own tale; and he, in
telling it as a German and fellow-countryman of those concerned,
assures us that these features are daily becoming more diminished by
the progress of refinement.

It is to be hoped that the publication of this volume may even hasten
this desirable end, for no people are so much alive to the opinion of
other nations as the Germans. One thing, however, as an Englishman, I
may say, which the author could not say--and that is, that when reading
of the beer and sword duels of these students, we must take into
account what are the weapons and the perils in both cases. We are not
to suppose then, that their beer is any thing like the XXX just spoken
of, or their wine like sherry or port, three-fourths brandy. No; they
who know German wine, know that it is a very gentle and innocent,
rather acidulous, and rather cooling fluid, and that their beer is far
more mighty of the hop than of the malt. It is a well-bittered and
amiable table-beer, which even Father Mathew might take as a healthy
stomachic, and which one might rather expect, in Sam Welter's phrase,
to make its swallowers "swell wisibly before our wery eyes," than grow
riotous under its influence. When to this we add, that the sword-duel
is rather a trial of skill in fencing than any thing dangerous, and
that a scratch across the cheek, or prick into a stuffed jerkin, is in
ninety-nine cases out of a hundred the worst of its accidents, fears on
the subject diminish at a rapid rate. If, however, any one thinks these
youths had better be at their books than crossing swords or swallowing
choppins, I assure him I am quite of the same opinion; and I here
exhort the students, as soon as they get this volume, which they
speedily will, to forsake the Hirschgasse and the Kneip, and follow the
advice, but not the _example_ of the English. Shall I advise them to
imitate the students of Cambridge? Let any one read "The Student-Life
of Cambridge" in a late number of the _Westminster Review_, and say
whether that would be reasonable. Shall I advise them to practise the
vice and the mockeries which are practised there, by those who give the
most public and prominent character to the social student-life of
England--for it is not meant to assert that the generality of the
Oxford and Cambridge students are of such a class? Why, Kneips and the
Hirschgasse are heaven and innocence to them. Shall I advise them to
quit their songs for the grossnesses sung by the wild portion of
the students at Cambridge and Oxford? No! the songs of the German
students, even when on no higher a theme than wine, and with the bold
free-spokenness which is startling to our modes of thinking, are the
effusions of the first spirits of their nation, and are sung to some of
the finest melodies which ever emanated from that most musical of
people. It is here that the tables must be turned, and that we must
call on the English to imitate the Germans, and not the Germans the
English. If the English will drink, let them drink wine as cooling, and
beer as thin and bitter, as the Germans; if they will fight duels, let
them abandon bullets that fly through a man and let the soul out after
them, and be content with a scratched nose or punctured padding. If
they will sing over their wine, let them not sing the vile trash that
is heard in the haunts of our students, but the spiritual effusions of
such writers as Schiller, Goethe, Körner, Arndt, Claudius, Hauff,
Follen, Uhland, etc. No, one cannot read of English students--of their
guzzlings and their songs--without feeling a sense of commonplaceness,
a something low, gross, unimaginative and vulgar.[1] On the
contrary, amid all the follies and mad frolics and nonsense of German
student-life--of which God knows there is plenty--he must be destitute
of poetry himself who does not feel it there. If there be a man who can
read through this volume and not feel its poetry, and not perceive the
high and beautiful sentiment which pervades it; the profound love of
nature, and the glorious love of country,--let that man march off to
Cambridge or Oxford; let him give his suppers or his breakfasts; let
him hurry in his nightgown to morning prayers; let him become a
first-rower, or a senior-wrangler if he will; but that man is no more
fit to take his stand by the student revellers of Germany, than Caliban
is by Hyperion. No, in the student-life, which is entered into as a
brief season of youthful hilarity, which in this world can come but
once; a season in which knowledge is not only to be gathered, but life
to be enjoyed--friendships for life to be knit up--love, perhaps for
life, to be kindled--and the spirit of patriotism to be cherished to a
degree which no after-chills and oppressions of ordinary life shall
ever be able utterly to extinguish; in this life there is a feeling and
a sentiment to which our student-life is a stranger. It is from the
bosom of this life that some of the noblest poets, the profoundest
philosophers, and the most devoted patriots which the world ever saw,
have gone forth. It was from the heart of this life that Theodore
Körner sprung, for the cause of his country and mankind, and sung and
fought and died; it was from this that Goethe and Schiller, Hauff and
Tieck, and a thousand others, have issued to glorify valour, or
consecrate patriotism, or beautify the regions of the human soul by
their songs and their imaginative prose. It was from this that the
whole body of ardent youth arose, and quitting their Kneips and their
Chores, called all their country to reassert its liberty, to drive out
its foes, and at the people's head, fought with the spirit of the
ancient heroes, and chased from their soil for ever, the tyrant and
overrunner of humbled Europe.

And yet there are those who are continually forgetting these things;
asserting that all the student songs, and student clanship, and student
freedom, end in smoke and vapour, and without any permanent result, and
that they depart at the termination of their academical career their
several ways, and sink into obscurity and insignificance. What! would
they not have them become good citizens, sober judges, domestic men?
But they who say that no high effects remain, know nothing of the youth
of Germany. They cannot have seen how the new Rhine-song went through
the whole country like an electric flash when France threatened to
march to the banks of that noble river, and how every German student
vowed if such a deed were perpetrated, they would go forth and fight to
a man. They cannot know, as I do, that the loves and friendships formed
by these youths are more permanent and indissoluble than any class of
men with whom I have yet become acquainted; nor that in private
society, where, and in my own house, I have seen much of them,
they are amongst the most accomplished, gentlemanly, temperate,
correctly-mannered, cordial-hearted, and intellectual men that European
society possesses. But all such persons I willingly turn over to the
perusal of this volume, the work of a young but learned author, who has
recently passed, by a splendid examination, out of this student-life
itself without having ever fought a single duel, or very probably got
half or even quarter seas over. If the perusal of this volume should
have the good effect of lessening amongst the German youth the tendency
to the beer or the sword duel, and of inspiring our English youth with
a more intellectual and poetical taste in their pleasures, certainly we
may say, in the style of all good old prefaces, "that it will not have
been written in vain."

_Heidelberg, April 6th_, 1841.




                               CONTENTS.


                               CHAPTER I.

   General Plan, Officers, and Courts, of a German University--Charm of
     this life to those who have passed through it--Explanation of
     the term _Bursché_, or Student--Right to found or dissolve
     Universities, retained by the Sovereign Princes--Offices and mode
     of government--The Curatorium--Rector, Prorector--Senate, greater
     and less--Different orders of Professors and Teachers--mode of
     their remuneration--University Board of Finance--its Court of
     Justice--Academical freedom, and mode of matriculation--Inferior
     officers, and penalties for offences against the Academical
     laws--College terms--mode of Lecturing, and duties of Lecturers--
     necessary Examinations of the Students, and consequent
     Certificates--Sciences taught--Privileges and endowments to enable
     young men without property to enjoy all the advantages of the
     Universities--the great extent to which this is made available,
     and great advantages to the State derived from it--Opinion of
     Goethe on this head--Great Men that this has produced--no German,
     however exalted in rank, can hold a high position in society,
     without making himself master of the knowledge thus opened to the
     people


                              CHAPTER II.

   General View of Student-Life.--Student-life an admirable field for
     bringing a young man speedily to a knowledge of life, and to a
     sense of self-government and self-dependence--Prejudice,
     especially amongst foreigners, that Students must become exposed
     to many unpleasantnesses--these groundless--every individual
     Student independent, and at liberty to associate just as little,
     or as mach as he pleases with the rest--Equality the law of the
     German Students--their opinion that the English are the slaves of
     the Aristocracy--their surprise at the Aristocratic prejudices of
     the English--Academic freedom dear to every German Student--its
     value acknowledged by all the greatest men--Influence of the
     associate life of the Students on their minds and manners--
     including, as it does, the natives of so many Countries--Chores,
     or Unions--Landsmannschafts--the Burschenschaft--Wearing of Union
     Badges forbidden--Public Processions, and Costumes of the
     Professors


                              CHAPTER III.

   The Chores, or Unions.--Their nature, constitution, and
     distinguishing colours--each Chore formed of the natives of a
     particular State--what is requisite for the formation of a New
     Chore--is acknowledged and recorded at the Allgemeine, or General
     Social Meeting of the Chores--Constitution of a Chore--its
     Officers, Code of Laws--its Beer-court, and Court of Honour--its
     Boon-companions, and various ranks of members--its Chore-Convent,
     or Board of Administration--the Proscription, or Bann, as
     exercised both against Members and offending Tradesmen, or even
     the University itself--Classes of Students termed Camels, etc.
     etc.


                              CHAPTER IV.

   The Burschenschaft.--The origin of this celebrated Society to be
     found in the patriotic desire to free Germany from the domination
     of Buonaparte--this feeling at first high and holy--quickened by
     the union of Learned and Literary men in the Poet-League of
     Göttengen, to advance the Language and Literature of the
     Country--the triumphs of Literature at their height under Schiller
     and Goethe, when the French Invasion took place--the indignant
     enthusiasm excited by this on the minds of the Students--the
     formation of Burschenschafts--these in different Universities
     united by one general bond--their effect in rousing Germany to
     the expulsion of the French--these feelings immortalized in the
     songs of Theodore Körner--the People's Battle at Leipsic--the
     expulsion of the French followed by a demand for the restoration
     of the Germanic Empire--Act of Confederation of the German States
     signed--Formation of the Holy Alliance of Sovereigns--
     Disappointment of the People--Agitations of the Burschenschaft--
     Beautiful ceremonies at the celebration of the Peace Anniversary
     at Jena, etc. 1816--farther proceedings of the Borschenschaft--the
     celebrated Festival in the Wartburg in 1817, at which the Writings
     of Kotzebue ware burnt--Congress of Universities at Jena in 1818,
     and Publication of the Constitution of the Burschenschaft--the
     influence of these events on the mind of George Sand, and its
     consequences


                               CHAPTER V.

   The Narrative of Sand.--His origin and education--his early enmity
     to the French--his conscientious but excitable disposition--the
     effect on his mind of the burning of Kotzebue's Writings--his
     personal appearance--Kotzebue in the pay of Russia, to give
     information of the popular movements and opinions in Germany--
     Seizure and publication of one of his bulletins to that
     Government, and consequent popular excitement--Sand conceives the
     idea of putting Kotzebue to death, as a traitor to German
     freedom--his long mental struggles against this idea--the final
     surrender to it, and preparation for carrying it into effect--his
     paper called "Death-blow to August Von Kotzebue"--his letter to
     his parents, and brother and sisters, on setting out on this
     project--his perpetration of the deed, his trial, and execution at
     Mannheim--Consequence of this and similar attempts--The
     prohibition of the Burschenschaft, and persecution of its
     members--The Song "We Builded," etc, as sung at the breaking up
     of the Burschenschaft in June in 1819


                              CHAPTER VI.

   Ceremonial Introduction to University and Burschen Life--The Student
     youth of Germany, driven from the Burschenschaft, have fallen back
     on their Chore-life--Complaints of late years that youths coming
     to the University become involved in the dissipations of
     Chore-life, to the prevention of their studies and detriment of
     health and morals--these views combated by the Author--the
     existence of a temporary excitement on entering University-life
     accounted for--the Author, as one who passed through this life,
     testifies to its advantages--Every University its own particular
     tone and character--Peep at the past Life of the Universities, as
     revealed in Zacchariæ's "Renommist," and in a Drawing of 1730--
     Singular and rude Customs formerly practised on the admission of
     Students to the Universities--Freshmen or Branen, then subjected
     also to many humiliations--the present condition of the Freshman,
     now termed a Fox--Curious Anecdotes connected with the condition
     of a Fox--Different ranks which a Student passes through who joins
     a Chore, or Verbindung--in the Gymnasium, or school preparatory to
     the University, he is a Frog--then successively a Mule, a Camel, a
     Fox, a Fat-Fox, a Burnt-Fox, a Young Bursch, Old Bursch, and Mossy
     Head--Satirical explanation of Student terms, by Herr Schluck--
     Initiatory ceremonies at a Union of the Chores on creating the
     different degrees of Foxes--Singing of "The Landsfather"--The
     Fox-Ride, and its accompanying song--Burning of the Burnt-Foxes,
     with the accompanying song, etc.


                              CHAPTER VII.

   The Duel.--This is a practice of the Middle Ages, that has firmly
     maintained itself amongst the Students--the Author's opinion of
     it--its actual good or evil in the system--to be regarded
     principally as a trial of skill in fence--mode in which these
     Duels are contracted, settled, conducted, and fought out--At
     Heidelberg these take place in a well-known house in the
     Hirschgasse--Duel Costume, and different species of Duel--Anecdote
     of a little Jew who fought one--the Duel prohibited by the laws--
     the Academical enactments against it--Attempts of the Beadles to
     seize the Combatants--their watchers--the Red Fisherman, their
     great champion--Students' dogs sometimes join in the contest--
     Penalties, and University Prison


                             CHAPTER VIII.

   Characters connecting themselves with Student Life.--The Hofrath
     Diehl--his History--the Flower-Boy, and Frau Gotlieben the
     Fruitwoman


                              CHAPTER IX.

   Private Life of the Student.--Visit of Mr. Traveller, the
     Englishman, to the room of the Student Freisleben--his surprise at
     what he saw--his friendly welcome--Description of the Room and its
     various Decorations--Student word for comfortable--the Boot-Fox--
     Origin of the word _School Foxery_, or pedantry--Wages of a
     Boot-Fox--Expense of Living at the University--_Pendulums_
     and _Knoten_--origin of the latter term--the House Philistine
     and his duties--the Philose, the Besom, the House-Bursch,
     and Room-Bursch--What it means to "Tail a Lecture"--
     Dissertation-on-Dogs--A visit to the annual Dog-Muster---Students'
     Dogs--their characteristics--one at a duel swallows up a Student's
     nose--the little Dog Tambourli--the Student's love for his Pipe--
     Pipes of various kinds, and in all their parts, described--Origin
     of the word Fidibus--the philosophy of Smoking


                               CHAPTER X.

   Rural and Summer Amusements of the Student.--Beauties of the
     neighbourhood of Heidelberg--The Wolfebrunnen--the surrounding
     Woods and Mountains of the Odenwald and Black Forest--Historical
     associations--the Student sometimes takes longer excursions than
     into these scenes--Excursions in a one-engine--Water excursions--
     Field sports--The Students' Shooting ground--Kirchweihs, or
     Wakes, described--the Students there--Scenes which arise with the
     Handwerksburschen


                              CHAPTER XI.

   Winter Amusements of the Student.--He joins gladly Social Parties at
     the houses of the Inhabitants and of the English--finds much
     amusement at the Reading-rooms, Billiard-table, and Balls and
     Concerts at the Museum--Serenades--Song, "The Departure"--Skating
     --pushing Ladies on the Ice in Sledges--gaiety of these scenes--
     sledging parties by Torch-light--Whims of the Students on such
     occasions--Instances of their schemes to satirize the attempts of
     the Senate to check their expense in such things--in the evening
     joins his Kneip


                              CHAPTER XII.

   The Student's Evening Party, with its Conversations, Discussions,
     Songs, and Customs.--The Student Hoffman entertains his Friends--
     Description of his Rooms--his Friends Freisleben, Von Kronen,
     Eckhard, Enderlin, Pittschaft, Mr. Traveller--their opinion of
     Englishmen and English Ladies--Melancholy story of Krusenstern and
     Avensleben--The Radonen Cake--Sketch of the history of
     Universities, given by Von Kronen--Discussion on Phrenology--
     English and German Literature compared--German Romance ludicrously
     described by Lichtenberg--the Students sing Schiller's song of
     "The Four Elements," also "There Twinkle Three Stars" from
     Körner--they sing a Roundelay--Anecdotes of Stambooks--Drink to
     their Ladies--Drink and sing as a Roundelay the humorous song of
     "The Krähwinkle Landsturm"--sing a Lumpitus of the first verse of
     various celebrated songs in rotation--sing "The Binschgauer"--
     Merriments before parting--The songs of "Ye Brothers, when no more
     I'm drinking," "The Pope," "Brothers, in this Place of Festive
     Meeting," "So crown with leaves the love-o'erbrimming Beakers"


                             CHAPTER XIII.

   General System of German Education.--Glance at the progress of
     popular Education, from the ancient Nations and Times down to the
     present--Popular Folks'-schools of the Middle Ages--Gerbardus
     Magnus--his Institution at Deventer---his ideas followed out by
     Montaigne, Bacon, etc.--the Burger class erect Schools--the
     Reformation--School of Conrad Celtes, for the restoration of
     Classical antiquity--Services of Erasmus, Reuchlin, Dalberg,
     Agricola, Pirkheimer, etc.--the origin of the plans of Pestalozzi
     to be found in the writings of Ratich and Comenius--Services of
     Fenelon, Spencer, and Franke--Improvements by Ziedler, Hein, and
     Sulzer--Influence of Locke, Rousseau, Crousatz, in developing the
     modern School-systems--Description of the German School-system,
     and what is taught in each class of Schools, viz. the Elementary,
     or Proper Folks'-Schools; the Real Schools, called also Middle
     Schools, Higher Burger Schools, etc; the Gymnasia; the
     Universities


                              CHAPTER XIV.

   Song, an indispensable requisite to the Student, as to all
     Germans.--Song and Poetry a necessity to the German--the Germans
     rich in Popular Songs--Universal singing of the Common People--A
     popular Song at any crisis passes like an electric flash through
     the whole People--"Prince Eugene," a specimen of a class of Songs
     very common amongst the People--All classes, in town or country,
     have their peculiar Songs--the Student is affluent in Songs--the
     Commers-Book a collection of them--Sing in their Kneips--their
     Songs often heard on summer evenings in the open air with fine
     effect--one of the finest "From High Olympus," etc.--the
     Roundelay--the Student has his Songs of Love, Wine, Fatherland,
     and Friendship--Student-life regarded as a joyous season that
     comes but once, therefore they sing and rejoice in it--Accompany
     their Deceased Brethren to the tomb also with Song--"Gaudeamus
     igitur"


                              CHAPTER XV.

   Drinking Customs of Student-life, ancient and modern.--The Author's
     opinions on festive drinking--Song of Old Noah--Master Schluck's
     persiflage on the Burschen-Comment, or Student Code of Drinking
     Laws--Notice of some of the chief of the different classes of
     Student Songs--"The Maiden Song" as formerly sung--account of it
     in Zacchariæ's Renommist--Drinking Customs of a past age in the
     Universities--anecdotes of these--Phrases collected by
     Lichtenberg descriptive of a Drunkard--the General Beer-Code of
     Heidelberg


                              CHAPTER XVI.

   The Commers.--The Commerses, general and special--their social
     Festive Meetings, held on various occasions--Description of the
     General Commers--certain Songs sung, as "Heidelberg live thou,"
     etc.--the Singing of "The Consecration Song, or Landsfather," and
     singular ceremonies attending it--the Ceremony of the Smollis--
     Smollering constitutes a Brotherhood to last for life--Drinking
     Laws of the Commers--Herr Schluck's Comments on a Commers--the
     Excesses of the Ancient Commerses abandoned


                             CHAPTER XVII.

   The Special Commers.--Description of a train of Students going out
     to a Special Commers in the country--their arrival there--
     description of the Room and mode of holding the Commers--Ceremony,
     and Song of "The Prince of Fooling"--Frolics and Gambols of the
     Students the next day in the village--An old ballad describing
     these in 1650--the Commers over, they return often by water, with
     music and fireworks--close it with drinking Crambambuli--the Song
     of Crambambuli--The Lumpin Bell


                             CHAPTER XVIII.

   New Year's Eve.--Spent by the Friends at the rooms of Freisleben--
     Conversation sallies--Glee-wine made, and the English song, "Down
     with the Sorrows," etc., by Mrs. Howitt, sung by Hoffmann to the
     guitar--"The Song of Wine"--"The Table-Song," by Goethe


                              CHAPTER XIX.

   New Year's Eve, continued.--Sketch of the History of Heidelberg
     University--A Salamander rubbed to the honour of the Professors


                              CHAPTER XX.

   New Year's Eve, continued.--University Stories--Singular Story of
     the feats of activity, strength, and eccentric humour of Von
     Plauen--his Banishment from the University--his Imprisonment and
     Escape--Story of the Student Schwartzkopf, who became the
     celebrated robber, "The Black Peter;" with his deeds, capture,
     and strange final escape--Story of the Student Stark--Fire-arms
     announce the entrance of the New Year, and the friends rush forth
     to witness the Procession of the Students to give a "Vivat" to
     their chief Professors--this described--Breaking up of the ice on
     the river--the exploit of the Red Fisherman


                              CHAPTER XXI.

   The Marching-Forth.--Modes in which the Student generally quits the
     University--The Marching-Forth when the Bann is laid by the
     Students on the University itself, and march forth in a body--
     various instances of this--the one which arose out of the building
     of the Museum in Heidelberg in 1827--the cry of "Bursch, come
     forth!" raised, and all the Students, in procession, quitted the
     city--the progress of negotiation and return of the Students--
     Marching-Forth from Heidelberg on account of dispute with the
     Military--Marching-Forth from Göttingen in 1818--progress and
     event of it--Anecdote of a Student and an Actor at Darmstadt--
     Noble instance of the cry of "Bursch, come forth!" being raised
     for the defence of the Jews--used in case of fires--in defence of
     the Prussian Students--Debts of the Students--their vengeance on
     an offending Tailor--the Manichæans or creditors--Mr. Traveller
     quits Heidelberg--Scene at his Rooms--Accompanied by his Friends
     to Weinheim--Meeting with a pedestrian party of Students from
     Wurtzburg--As Mr. Traveller departs they sing, "A Mossy Bursch
     now forth I wend"


                             CHAPTER XXII.

   The Student's Funeral, etc.--Hazards supposed to attend Student-life
     considered--Termination of the Student career by death--No class
     of persons so poetically testify their respect and affection for
     their deceased friends as the Students--Description of the whole
     Pageant and Procession of a Student's Funeral--with the final
     burning of the torches before the University, and singing of the
     "Gaudeamus igitur"--Funeral honours paid to a Professor


                             CHAPTER XXIII.

   The Comitat, or accompaniment of a Student in procession on his
     quitting the University--Hard study of the Student as the day of
     Examination approaches--Degrees obtained--Description of the
     Comitat precession of his Friends, as formerly practised and as at
     present--they sing the song of "The Mossy Bursch" at parting--
     Ballad of "The Old Bursch"


                             CHAPTER XXIV.

   Summary of the actual merits and demerits of German Student-life--
     Arguments of Professor Ringseis against Duelling


                              CHAPTER XXV.

   A Review of the Political Aspect of Student-life


                             CHAPTER XXVI.

   A parting glance at other Universities German and Foreign


                               *   *   *

   The General Beer-Comment of Heidelberg




                         LIST OF GERMAN SONGS.

                        TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH.


     1. The Sword Song
     2. The German Fatherland
     3. The Union Song
     4. Are German Hearts
     5. We Builded Ourselves
     6. The Fox-Ride
     7. Free is the Bursch
     8. The Wirthin's Daughter
     9. God greet Thee, Brother Straubinger
    10. True Love
    11. The Departure
    12. The Gallant Ship is going
    13. The Four Elements
    14. There Twinkle Three Stars
    15. Roundelay
    16. The Krähwinkler Landsturm
    17. The Binschgauer's Pilgrimage
    18. Drinking Song
    19. The Pope
    20. Drinking Song
    21. Rhine-Wine
    22. Prince Eugene
    23. Commers Song
    24. An Unbounded Jollity
    25. Gaudeamus Igitur
    26. Old Noah
    27. Old-fashioned Bursch
    28. The Travel Song
    29. The Landsfather
    30. Prince of Fools
    31. Ways of the Students
    32. Crambambuli
    33. Song of Wine
    34. The Departing Bursch
    35. The Old Bursch





                                  THE

                        STUDENT LIFE OF GERMANY.




                               CHAPTER I.

       GENERAL PLAN, OFFICERS, AND COURTS, OF A GERMAN UNIVERSITY


Jerusalem beautifully observes, that the barbarism which often springs
up behind the loveliest and most richly-coloured flower of knowledge,
may be a kind of strengthening mud-bath, to prevent the over-delicacy
which threatens the flower; and I fancy that one who reflects how far
knowledge usually climbs in a student, will allow the so-called
Burschen life to the Sons of the Muses, as a kind of barbarous
Middle-age, which may so far fortify them as to prevent this delicacy
of refinement exceeding its due bounds.--_Jean Paul Richter's Quintus
Fichslein_.


Student Life! Burschen Life! What a magic sound have these words for
him who has learnt for himself their real meaning! What a swarm of
recollections come over him who has once visited that land, however
long it may be since he returned homeward to a safer haven! Youth flies
on wings of impatience towards this happy time; age, though indeed it
may smile over the recollection of many a folly, recalls its memory
with delight.

We hear two old men, who in later life recognise each other in civil
office, and loaded with honourable duties. They speak of those
beautiful dreams of youth with enthusiasm, like two old veterans
rejoicing themselves in the recollections of the campaigns in which
they have served, and the battles which they have fought together. "To
the old times!" cry they, touching their glasses together, filled with
noble Rhein wine, and with their joy sorrowfully mingles itself the
memory of the many companions of those times, who have already quitted
this life; for it is a fine characteristic of the heart of man, that
while enjoying the highest happiness of the present, or when joyfully
calling to remembrance that once enjoyed, in such moments it feels most
painfully the absence of distant friends.

The stranger who should hear the conversation of these old gentlemen;
as he saw how they became young again in spirit, and how their forms,
bent with years, they raised again erect as they conversed, would
gladly linger near them, and would certainly say, "Those must indeed
have been delightful times!"

Yes, they were--and they are, for those who know how to enjoy them.
Stranger, thou who hast never known this beautiful life; and thou who
wouldst willingly experience more of it,--to you hope we to be able to
reveal many an attractive feature, and you shall behold many a scene,
as we venture to predict, snatched fresh and living from the heart
of this existence. Follow us into the City of the Muses--to the
strife-place of this passion-driven life; there will we teach thee more
nearly to observe the peculiar constitution of this student state, and
the habits of its citizens, which thou hast perhaps observed many a
time with amazement. Many a foreigner has even probably been for a
short period a citizen of this state, without having penetrated deeply
into its constitution and all its peculiarities. To him also will these
pages afford information and entertainment,


            Plunge boldly into actual human life,--
            Every man lives it; few men know it well;
            And where you seize it, there you make it tell.
                                     _Prologue to Goethe's Faust_.


We have here in the very outset used the expressions "student" and
"bursché," and shall find ourselves necessitated still oftener to use
them; we will, therefore, at once give a few sentences in explanation
of their meaning. By student, we understand one who has by
matriculation acquired the rights of academical citizenship; but, by
bursché, we understand one who has already spent a certain time at the
university--and who, to a certain degree, has taken part in the social
practices of the students. How and when he acquires a real claim to
this title, we shall hereafter have occasion to show. We will here only
make one observation regarding the origin of this term.

In order to render a university education available to men of little or
no property, in the twelfth century colleges were founded, where poor
youths received free lodging, maintenance, and money, and lived under
the strict superintendence of one or more teachers. This became
extensively the case in the thirteenth century, and still more general
in the fourteenth. Private persons of wealth were mostly the
benefactors, when such institutions were founded and endowed. In
Germany such colleges were called _bursen_, whence comes the term
_bursché_. This name, given at that time to such as dwelt together in
such a burse, was, at a later period, restricted to those only who had
for a longer time taken a more immediate part in the associate life of
the students. The signification of the terms--student life, burschen
life--thence derived, is plain enough of perception. Before, however,
we conduct the reader into this burschen life, in order to give him a
clearer understanding of it, we will say a few words on the
constitution of universities; on the surveillance which the state
exercises over them, and on the relation of teachers and university
officers to the students.

The right to found universities--to dissolve them again--to unite them
with others, and so on--belongs at the present time only to the
respective sovereign princes, who have held these prerogatives from the
dissolution of the German empire. Prior to this, they centred in the
Emperor, and before the Reformation, in the Pope. The universities
stand under the particular protection of the state, which superintends
and conducts them by jurisdiction thereunto especially organized. The
interests of the universities are protected by a representative in the
Landtag, the second chamber of the state. Should a university have
causes of complaint against the prince, it must appeal to the
Bundestag, that is, the court established between the different German
states, to decide all questions between those states, or between the
prince and people of any one of them.

At the head of a German university stands the rector, or more commonly,
the prorector, since the rectorate is generally retained by the
sovereign princes in their own hands, as is the case in Baden. With the
rector or prorector is associated the Academical Senate, as a permanent
court of administration. The prorector is annually chosen at Easter, by
the Great Senate, out of the body of professors. He is then proposed to
the curator, formerly termed throughout Germany, the chancellor, and
still so styled in Wirtemberg. On the motion of this officer, he is
confirmed by the prince. His duty is to promote, as far as in him lies,
the prosperity and object of the High School generally, and especially
the moral and literary education of the students; the enforcement of
the academical laws and statutes; and to watch over the official
proceedings of the curatorship, and the resolutions of the Senate. He
thus presides over the Great, and Select or Lesser Senate, where he
also exercises the right of proposition; opens all propositions or
memorials; collects the votes; and, according to the majority, decides.
He is entitled to be present at the assembly of the Ephorats. At the
expiration of his prorectorate, he continues in the senate a year,
where, in the absence of the prorector, he occupies his place.

The Senate is divided into the Select and Great Senate. The first
consists of the prorector, the ex-prorector, and four ordinary
professors, each section furnishing one. At the end of every half-year
three members go out. Their successors are appointed from the
curatorium--the office of the curator. The period of office is for a
year. The Select Senate corresponds with the curatorium, and it is the
business of the prorector to lay before this body all current
communications from the curatorium: in ordinary cases, at its ordinary
sittings; or in emergencies, at extraordinary ones. The Select Senate
lays before the Great Senate all such concerns as have been brought
under its own consideration, or such as at least two-thirds of its
members shall deem of sufficient importance to require reference to
this larger body. The Select Senate assembles regularly every
fortnight. Extraordinary meetings are called by the prorector. In cases
of an equality of votes, the prorector gives the casting voice.

The Great Senate consists of all the ordinary professors. To this
senate belongs the election of prorector, and other officers of the
university, so for as the university right extends, and the management
of the affairs consigned to their care by the Select Senate. The Great
Senate has, therefore, no fixed days of assembly. The four faculties of
theology, law, medicine, and philosophy, which last includes in itself
all that is not comprehended under the other three, as mathematics,
political and states' economy, history, language, etc. etc., constitute
the main learned and scientific fabric of the university.

The teachers are divided into ordinary professors; such teachers as
occupy the established professorships, with the emoluments and duties
thereunto belonging; and the extraordinary professors, such teachers as
possess only such salary as the prince bestows. These do not always
hold an actual professorship--and in this respect, resemble a third
class, the so-called _Privat Docenten_; that is to say, gentlemen who
devote themselves to an academical career, who have taken the degree of
doctor, and through a public disputation have acquired the right to
deliver lectures on subjects connected with their particular department
of science. The last receive no salary, but depend upon the
remuneration derived from their classes.

This institution of private teachers forms a nursery, out of which the
High School can advantageously recruit itself with able professors; and
we shall have occasion presently to show the great benefit derived from
this regulation, especially when compared with the arrangements of the
French universities.

All the ordinary professors are members of the faculty by virtue of
their office. Their rank in the faculty determines itself by the number
of years during which they have occupied regular professorships,
whether in that in which they reside, or in some other university of
Germany. The oldest member of each faculty becomes, according to
established rule, its head, with the title of Dean. To him it belongs
to bring forward all affairs of the faculty; to superintend the
examination of the students, as well as to issue the diplomas conferred
on them.

The same honorarium which the docenten or tutors receive, receive also
all the teachers of a university, from those students who attend their
classes. There are regular receivers, quæstors, appointed for the
reception of the honorarium, or charge for the attendance of lectures,
to whom especially belongs the reception of all money belonging to the
administration of the university, and attention to every thing
connected with the financial department.

The universities possess funds of their own, which are derived from
ancient grants from the princes, and from private legacies. To this
fund the government adds an annual determinate contribution; and from
this united income are defrayed the total expenses of the High School;
as the salaries of teachers and officers, and the management of its
subordinate institutions. Besides this financial administration of the
university, it has also a building and economy commission. The
building-commission has the superintendence of the new building and
necessary repairs in the university, and under its direction is placed
the building inspector with a yearly salary. In the economy department
of the university, the commission, in all that falls under its
management, has to maintain a correspondence with, and receive the
approval of the curatorial office. It assembles once a month under a
director, who is selected from the members in routine. The cashier of
the university has a seat in the commissions, and he is at the same
time secretary, and draws up and signs the decrees of the senate.

As the university has its own Board of Finance, so has it also its
Court of Justice. The peculiar life of the universities--their peculiar
relation to the state--the members of such societies--flowing together,
as they did and do, from such different countries, to combine
themselves, so to say, into an _imperium in imperio_; into a small
state, in fact, which must enjoy a certain, and, indeed, ample degree
of freedom, and yet must be made subordinate to the great state,--all
this made the princes in the times immediately succeeding the founding
of the universities, feel it necessary to grant to them their own
courts of justice. So received these institutions peculiar privileges.
Individual laws were given, till their number became so great that it
was requisite to collect them into a code. These laws, as they at
present exist, have been revised by the government, in conjunction with
the senates of the universities, and confirmed. They bear especially
upon the following points. First, upon the acquisition and forfeiture
of the rights of academical citizenship. Candidates for matriculation
must, upon an appointed day, and at an appointed hour, appear before
the board of matriculation, and lay before it their certificates of
learning and morals. If these are found satisfactory, the board
delivers to the candidate the printed academical regulations. Hereupon
must he sign what is called the reverse; that is, an attached form of
declaration, binding himself to take no part in any prohibited
_verbindung_, or union, or in any designs of a demagogue
burschenschaft, but to conform himself to the academical laws. The
new candidate thereupon gives to the prorector what is called the
hand-gelübde, or literally, hand-oath; that is, he gives him his hand,
pronounces what is above stated, and then receives the matriculation
certificate, or diploma, which confers upon him the enjoyment of all
the rights of academical burgership. Through this he acquires a claim
on the academical court of justice, on the protection of the academical
laws, as well as the right to enjoy the benefit of the library and the
learned institutions.

No one who has not matriculated can attend the public lectures, except
the tutors, companions or attendants, appointed by parents or guardians
to students--these, of course, also paying the regular fees--and such
persons not studying in the universities as are so far advanced in life
as to put matriculation out of the question. This right of academical
citizenship continues five years, provided it be not voluntarily
relinquished or penally forfeited. The laws extend themselves to the
relations between the students and the heads, professors, and
subordinate officers of the university, as well as towards other
officers of the state or city. For instance, the penalties are stated,
for offences against these various officers, as also the duties of the
students in regard to their studies. A long series of laws defines the
penalties for the peculiar offences of students, as for games of
hazard, real and verbal injuries to one another, especially for the
duel, under its various forms; for breaking the peace, drunkenness,
tumults and uproars, interdicted assembling of themselves together,
secret combinations of students, etc. It is further declared, that
public processions are only permitted under certain conditions, and
that the wearing of colours is forbidden. Further declarations regard
the debts of the students; and lastly, the regulations under which the
advantages of the university library are to be enjoyed are made known.

The oversight and penal jurisdiction over the students are exercised by
the academical senate, the prorector, and the amtmann, or magistrate of
the university. The ephorat is a peculiar board, consisting of select
professors, which only in the sphere of fatherly and friendly
admonition exercises its superintendence chiefly over the moral conduct
of the students when occasion requires; exhorting them to diligence and
good behaviour, and putting itself, if necessary, in correspondence
with their parents. The magistrate exercises the jurisdiction in the
first instance. In criminal cases, he draws the process, and sends it,
not to the court of justice of the university, but to the ordinary
tribunal of the state; in affairs of discipline he conducts the
inquiry, and pronounces all academical penalties, with the exception of
the _consilium abeundi_. The proceeding in the inquiry is summary, and,
in cases where the ordinary oath is administered to people in general,
is the _ehrenwort_, or word of honour of the student demanded. To the
condemned it is neither allowed to look into the proceedings against
him, nor is the name of his accuser revealed. He must even submit
himself to the judgment of the senate, without the power to insist that
the ground of its judgment shall be made known. The appeal from the
sentence of the amtmann, lies to the senate, which also pronounces the
_consilium abeundi_ and the relegation, on the motion of the amtmann.
The appeal from the sentence of the senate lies to the minister of the
interior.

For the administration of the academical laws and acts of justice,
especial police officers, and beadles, upper and inferior, are
maintained. The chief beadle in pressing cases, has the right to cite
before him, and to arrest without warrant, but must immediately make
announcement thereof to the amtmann.

The chief beadle, who lives near the college, has at the same time, the
care of the prison, which is in the upper part of his house. Two
beadles do duty in the university library. In the scale of academical
punishments, first stands reproof, then pecuniary fine, then
incarceration. The signing of the _consilium abeundi_, includes a
solemn promise not to suffer himself to become guilty in future of any
offence, even of smaller moment. He who, notwithstanding, breaks this
promise, and becomes guilty of an offence which would draw upon another
at least eight days' imprisonment, can meet with no lighter punishment
than the _consilium abeundi_. This _consilium abeundi_ consists in
expulsion out of the district of the court of justice within which the
university is situated. This punishment lasts a year; after the
expiration of which the banished student can renew his matriculation.
The relegation is the punishment next in severity. It has two degrees.
First, the simple relegation. This consists in expulsion out of the
aforesaid districts, for a period of from two to three years; after
which the offender may indeed return, but can no more be received as an
academical burger. Secondly, the sharper relegation, which adds to the
simple relegation an announcement of the fact to the magistracy of the
place of abode of the offender; and according to the discretion of the
court, a confinement in an ordinary prison, previous to the banishment
is added; and also the sharper relegation can be extended to more than
four years, the ordinary term, yes, even to perpetual expulsion. Loss
of honour is one of a class of severe penalties which can only be
pronounced by a civil court of justice. Previous to any _consilium
abeundi_ and relegation, the university amtmann must send intelligence
to all the German universities, and to the city magistrates, of the
cause of the prosecution, together with the signature of the culprit,
and also must affix a copy of the sentence on the black board, that is,
a black tablet, or board, in the university, to which all the
announcements to its members are attached; and at the same time must
advertise the parents, or those standing in their relation, of the
same. Causes of complaint, which a student considers himself to have
against an academical officer, must be laid before the academical
amtmann, if such officer belong to the inferior class of the servants
of the High School. When it affects a head or teacher, then before the
academical senate; if it affects the prorector, or academical senate,
then it must be carried to the curator of the university, who must
receive it, and lay it before the minister of the interior.


                               *   *   *


Through these brief sketches we hope to have given to the reader a
clear notion of the constitution of a German university, in reference
to its financial and judicial administration. We have so far had
Heidelberg in our eye, and may be allowed to do this, since however
different the universities of Germany may otherwise be, in spirit and
manners, in these respects they resemble each other. Upon the
conformity of their present constitution to their purpose, we may leave
the reader to make his own reflections. This is a subject upon which
recently so much discussion has taken place, and so many proposals have
been made; not indeed so jocose as that of Lichtenberg, where he says,
"every university should have an ambassador at the other universities
for the purpose of keeping up the friendships as well as the enmities;"
we shall moot this point as opportunity occurs, we will at present make
only a few observations on the constitution of the universities, as
regards the course of studies.

The annual courses of instruction are divided into summer and winter
half-years; betwixt come Easter and Michaelmas as vacations. The
lectures, which in these annual courses are delivered, comprehend in
themselves the whole doctrines which belong to the circle of the four
faculties. The professors are bound by the state, by which they are
paid, to deliver the necessary lectures, but they are allowed a certain
freedom in the distribution of these lectures amongst the members of
the faculty. Every teacher is bound during three times each week, to
deliver a public lecture, gratis, on which occasion he either makes an
examination of the students on the subject of his regular course, or
lectures on an interesting but generally minor topic of his branch of
science or literature, which possibly the students would hesitate to
attend were they obliged to pay for it, and which yet may be important
to the creditable discharge of their future profession. Every lecturer
is in duty bound to devote twelve hours per week to his regular course,
that is, to the lectures for which he receives a proportionate
honorarium from the students; these twelve hours being divided into two
or three lectures, according as the extent of their matter may require.
Besides this, it is the duty of each lecturer, so far as his other
obligations permit, to be ready to deliver any lecture which lies
within the sphere of his department of teaching, when, out of the
ordinary course, such is desired of him by a number of the students, so
soon as those who seek it assure him of a proportionate remuneration
for his trouble. To these _Privatissimi_, as they are called, or
especially private lectures, being once agreed upon, no other auditors
can be admitted. Lectures are delivered every day, Sundays and holidays
excepted; each delivery continuing only one hour, so that one may not
prevent another. The majority of the lectures are delivered in German,
partly extempore and partly from the written notes; the latter
practice, however, becoming daily more rare. A certain time before the
new course begins, a list is sent round, on which each lecturer puts
down the lectures be intends to give. The hours of delivery are next
added, in order to avoid collision. After its receiving the approval of
the curator, it is published under the direction of a commissioner
appointed by him. The list is in German. The commencement of each
course, as well as other particulars connected with it, is made known
on the black board. It is at the option of each student which course or
courses of lectures he will attend during the current half-year, and he
gives notice accordingly to the professor who has announced that
course. Yet is the student in the German states obliged, within the
period of his whole university study, to attend a certain number of
lectures, if he wishes to be admitted to a state's examination. Those
lectures which bear upon the peculiar profession at which he aims, are
prescribed to him by the state to which he belongs. He must obtain from
the respective lecturers, testimonies that he has diligently studied
every lecture of that kind. A copy of these testimonies is contained in
the so-called departure-certificate, without which no one can be
admitted to the state's examination; and this certificate is sent
directly by the prorector to the board of examination. This
departure-certificate is, in fact, on the student's quitting the High
School, drawn up, and signed by the prorector and amtmann of the
university, and contains the date of matriculation, the continuance of
his abode at the college--a certain term of abode being prescribed by
the government for the student of each particular profession,--the
attendance of lectures, a statement of his behaviour, what punishments
he has become amenable to. The certificate expressly announces whether
the student has taken part in any interdicted combination or not;
whether he even were suspected of such participation, and on what
grounds.

The university buildings themselves contain the lecture-rooms; and the
greater part of those lectures which are likely to draw the largest
audiences are there delivered. The warming of the rooms, and their
lighting up for the evening lectures, are the care of the nearest
dwelling chief-beadle. These buildings contain also a larger hall, in
which the public celebrations of university affairs and events are
held. In this hall, for example, are annually delivered, publicly and
solemnly, the gold medals to those who have best answered the
prize-questions propounded by each faculty. The professors also
frequently lecture in their own houses. The medical and natural history
lectures are mostly in these buildings, where those collections of
specimens and subjects belonging to the university, which are necessary
to demonstration, are deposited. Amongst these are the apparatus for
the physical sciences, the chemical laboratory, the zoological and
mineralogical cabinets, the cabinet of models, the buildings in the
botanical gardens, and school of anatomy. The lectures also on
pathology, surgery, and obstetrics, are delivered in the respective
hospitals of these departments. Besides the professors in the
university, also other teachers of physical exercises, as the
riding-master, fencing-master, dancing and swimming masters, receive
small salaries, that students may not lose the opportunity of
perfecting themselves in these arts.

In order to make support at the university easy to those without
property, many regulations are established. To those who can bring
certificates of inability to pay, the lecture-fees are remitted.
Besides this, in the different universities exist endowments, derived
in part from an ancient period, for such as cannot support the cost of
a university life. Many universities are rich in such endowments, or
stipends. It is a popular joke, that any student who arrives at
Greifswald, well known as the smallest Prussian university, is asked at
the gate whether he will accept a stipend; and if he declines, they
hesitate to admit him; since, unless students enow will come and take
them, the university does not know what to do with its endowments. The
candidates to obtain stipends must submit to an examination, and then
receive half-yearly a fixed sum, which however, in case of ill conduct,
can at the end of any half-year be withdrawn. These endowments are in
the management of several professors of the academy. The various
seminaries possess the like; in particular, the preacher seminary,
where the young theologians are prepared for their future calling. They
live in a large building at free cost, and under stricter oversight
than the rest of the students. Every student who is in circumstances to
pay the college fees, must make half-yearly, a small contribution to
the sick union, out of which sum such of the poor students as become
ill are furnished with all necessary attendance in particular
apartments in the hospital. For this union a commission is named,
consisting of several of the professors, and some students.

These slight notices may be sufficient to give us a conception of the
internal arrangements of one of the German universities, which proudly
may the German say, though they may indeed have their defects, yet
stand far above all foreign ones. What country can show an institution
so well organized and ordered as our High Schools? Truly does it excite
admiration and delight to see so small a state, even as Baden, whose
peculiar aim is the diffusion of knowledge. On the one hand, teachers
paid by the state, that they may, freed from all the pressure of
affairs, be able to dedicate their lives entirely to the office of
teaching; and on the other, scholars flocking from every country, to
avail themselves of their instructions.

How many great men have already gone forth out of this school! What
beneficent influence such an association exerts on the whole life with
which it is surrounded, we see strikingly when we turn our eyes
elsewhere, when we compare the fresh and living spirit which a
university inspires, with the unintellectual existence of a mere
mercantile city. Most true are the words of Goethe:--"That academical
life, even if we cannot ourselves boast of participation of its
peculiar diligence, yet in every species of accomplishment yields
incalculable advantages, since we are perpetually surrounded by men who
either possess knowledge, or seek it, so that, from such an atmosphere,
even while unconscious of it, we draw actual nourishment."--_Goethe's
Leben Wahrheit und Dichtung_.

And this fountain of all high knowledge, we may assert it with joy,
flows not only for the wealthy and the lords of broad lands. No! it
stands open to the poorest amongst the people, that it may call forth
talent and spiritual endowments to their highest accomplishment!
Through this becomes it possible to the humblest individual, in the
lowest condition of society, on the wings of merit to soar up, and that
no heaven-gifted head shall be lost to the service of mankind. However
high in Germany the advantages of a university education are rated, and
as some may possibly imagine overrated, yet this fact has sprung from
it,--that the richest and most independent must pass some years at one
of the High Schools. God be praised! the number of those is few who
look upon knowledge as a milch-cow, from which they may draw their
daily living, and on the university as a stall, in which that useful
beast is reared and cherished. Men have learned to perceive that the
possession of knowledge is desirable to every one, even if he draw no
direct worldly advantage therefrom. A noble rivalry to push discovery
farther and higher, through the power of the human mind, and to dig
after the truth, has diffused itself far and wide. The times are gone
by, against which Rabener directed the fire of his Satires. I recollect
where Sancho Panza in the discussion on proverbs says gravely--"Beside
the watchman I know no one in our city who has attained his office in a
creditable manner, and in passing must I also remember, that he is the
only one in our place that had understanding before he had his office."

It is only by merit that a German can now acquire an honourable
position in society; nay, the rich and the noble feel a pride in
showing the world that in them these merits are not wanting. Here is an
example of this honourable sentiment.

"Shall you soon depart to your estate?" inquired a foreigner of the
Graf von Sch----, one of the richest nobles of Germany, who studied
jurisprudence in Heidelberg.

"No," replied the Graf, "I shall first submit myself to a state's
examination."

"Indeed!" replied the foreigner, "will you then really become a legal
practitioner?"[2]

"No; but I will show to the world, that without my possessions I could
have made my way by my acquirements."

And to this diffusion and recognition of the claims of knowledge, to
the scattering abroad of science amongst the people, what has more
contributed than the foundation of our universities? Out of them go
forth the distinguished men who guide the helm of the state with
circumspection; out of them the teachers of the pulpit and the
folks-schools,--to diffuse light and improvement throughout society.




                              CHAPTER II.

                     GENERAL VIEW OF STUDENT-LIFE.


The word freedom sounds so sweetly that we could not be without it,
even did it indicate errors--_Goethe's Leben Wahrheit und Dichtung_.


"Free is the Bursch!" exclaims a beautiful student-song--a song beaten
so threadbare with continual singing, that now we seldom bear it sung
by the student himself. And true is the cry; or tell me who is freer
than he? Where see we the idea of freedom so beautifully realized as in
the German student-life? He who has learnt to know this life, may even
doubt the truth of that otherwise so true expression of Schiller's--


                Freedom is only in the realm of dreams.


The life of the university is an admirable school, which brings the
young man quickly to a sense of self-dependence, which in a few years
brings him to manly knowledge, and builds him up to a fitness for
intercourse with other men. The freedom which the student enjoys in a
high degree, is truly a strong touchstone,--a dangerous rock, on which
many a one splits,--but it is the only ground on which genuine
knowledge can attain its noblest bloom. Suddenly liberated from the
fetters of school, from the strict oversight of parents, steps the
young man into this life. He is distant from the friends who, as it
were, shaped his early being,--from his nearest relatives. His whole
life's plan must be now fashioned after his own judgment; he may enjoy
his pleasures with a freer, choice, and pursue his studies in a great
measure according to his own discretion. He stands free to choose his
friends from his numerous fellows; and it is only by his own qualities
and endowments, that he can convert them into friends. When entering on
this new scene of life, may he never forget the words of Goethe--


            No single thing can suit itself to all.
                Let each look to his ways,
                Where he goes, and where he stays;
            And he that stands, take heed he do not fall.


There is a prejudice which yet prevails abroad, that the student,
especially the foreigner, is exposed to many unpleasantnesses through
the necessary intercourse with his companions; the obligation to take
part in their customs and amusements, which are often denounced as
sufficiently rough and barbarous. This prejudice is totally groundless,
at least in the present times. The necessity of intercourse, the
compulsion, have no existence whatever. On the contrary, every one lets
another act as he likes, and troubles himself no further about him,
than as his society may be desirable to the individual himself. It is
perfectly at the option of the new comer whether he will isolate
himself, or in what society he will live; whether he will participate
to a certain degree in the student life, or even enter into one of
their Chores. If he seeks not the society of the students, he is
perfectly secure not to be sought after himself. Nor let any one,
especially the foreigner, imagine that he may claim distinction on
account of his wealth, or his high birth; or that he may expect from
his university acquaintance particular homage on that account; thereby
would he certainly expose himself to ridicule and annoyances. Nobility
holds in Germany no longer such absurd estimation; few Germans seek a
man's acquaintance exclusively on account of its possession, and those
few are despised. This is a necessary consequence of the constitutional
structure of our German states; and hence are the Germans freer than
the English, who pride themselves so much on their political liberty,
and yet are such slaves to the nobility. This singularity of the
English often becomes very ludicrously conspicuous in constitutional
Baden, to whose cities they so numerously resort; and the students of
Heidelberg have often made themselves merry over it, especially when
the English families in a neighbouring city have, each term, picked out
the address calendar of the university--a list of the students
published each half year--those names which had any mark of nobility
about them, and invited these _elite_ to their entertainments. If this
is a prominent feeling throughout Germany, it is in the universities,
at least in the majority of them, the ruling one; and to make clear
what I have here said, I may quote the following words of Lichtenberg.
"An equality like that of the French people, exists amongst the
students of the universities. The poorest thinks himself as good as the
Graf, and stoops not to him, though he freely leaves him to enjoy any
advantages that he may possess. Should he set up haughty pretensions,
that were the way effectually to ensure a denial of any claim. They are
only proud assumptions, that are intolerable to the free man; for the
rest, he is thoroughly disposed to allow to him every distinction that
he deserves, and what these distinctions are, he has generally correct
means of determining."

The academical freedom is a possession dear to the student. He has
defended it with zeal from the ancient times; and a conceived
encroachment upon his privileges has often occasioned general risings
of the whole student body against the infringing power, which though
they may not be wholly commendable as excesses, were always highly
remarkable, and indicate vividly the spirit of student life. We allude
to the marching forth from the university cities, and the denunciations
which the students have sometimes pronounced, as a severe bann upon
them. But of this more anon. This freedom has the most beneficial
influence on the prosecution of the study, and the manifold
accomplishments of the students. This has become perceived and
acknowledged by the greatest men; and it has made itself conspicuous
that exactly in those colleges which enjoy the highest degree of
freedom, amongst which Heidelberg is numbered, there also prevails
the most active pursuit of every academical advantage. This free
associate-life of the students has, moreover, the most decided
influence on the general cultivation of mind and manners. Flowing from
different countries, these diverse elements meet in the most varied
points of contact, and mutually impart their experience and their
customs. The author of the article on Heidelberg in the Halle
Year-Book, speaks of Heidelberg in this respect, thus:--

The variety of nationalities which meet in Heidelberg give an
intellectual activity to the associate-life of that student-world; and
preserve it, at least, from the eternal monotony of fixed conventional
forms, stale jests, _fade_ word-wit, and bookworm pedantry. The
happy-spirited, practical, intelligent Palatine; the simple, honest
Swabian, who has seen only the world which lies between his own
mountains, but with his sound, clear intellect, penetrates through
every thing; the open Rhinelander; the pithy Hessian; the polite,
socially-accomplished, well-bred, reserved North-German; and the grave,
self-confident Hanseat;--each brings a different style of
accomplishments, a different view of life, different experience;--each
race maintains its own natural character, without withdrawing itself,
however, from the impressions of the other nationalities, and the
equipoising influence of the common elements of their confluent
existence. Add to these, the numerous foreigners--Swiss, French,
Belgian, English, Spanish, who soon find themselves disposed to attach
themselves in preference to one of the German races, and ready, through
the common medium of social life, to receive somewhat from all, and
give to all somewhat, as it may happen. And herewith is connected this
important consideration, that these foreign frequenters of the
university of Heidelberg are almost wholly connected by birth with the
higher classes of society, and are impelled by their professional views
towards the interests and the movements of social life. They all bring
thither cultivated mind, and a broad grasp of observation of life and
manners; for the increase of which, neither internal impulse nor
external means are wanting. It is indispensable to good _ton_ amongst
the students of Heidelberg, more or less to have travelled. The
vicinity of the Rhine, of France, of Switzerland, excite to still
further excursions, for which the vacation affords a favourable
opportunity; and those thus returning from distant regions, from Paris,
from the Alps, or from the sea, bring with them new and very varied
impressions,--whose communication, exchange, and turning to account,
again for a long time fill up and refresh the intellectual life, not
only of the individual, but of the meetings of the national Chores, the
associations formed from the general body of the students.

He who would dispute the great advantages derived directly from the
social life of the students--to which belong not only different
nations, but different faculties, especially in rapidly developing the
intellect--would deny the advantages of social life altogether; but wo
to the man who is disposed to act upon such a notion, and lead an
eremitical life in accordance with it; such one-sidedness of judgment
must inflict upon him the severest penalty. The necessity for social
union has always been the more sensibly felt, since countrymen and
friends who pursue different studies, are thereby much separated from
each other. The division into such unions, according to nations and
landsmanships, was the dictate of nature herself. Their existence was
acknowledged by the state, and honoured by it as a very ancient
arrangement. Out of these combinations sprung, about the end of the
sixteenth, and beginning of the seventeenth century, the so-called
Orders. When at length their aim began to appear not wholly pure, they
met with government opposition; and in their place again stood forth
the landsmanschafts, similar to the early national divisions, but so
far different, that to the landsmanschafts belonged not only the
students who were actually natives of the country whose name the union
bore, but all who chose to enter the same, and submit themselves to its
regulations, were received by it. All these landsmanschafts from 1815,
amalgamated themselves into one common Burschenschaft; till the bloody
act of Sand, in 1819, drew the attention of government upon that union,
and became the occasion that the greater number of persons withdrew
from the burschenschaft, and again resolved themselves into particular
landsmanschafts; or, declining to belong to extensive unions, lived
politically isolated. Those societies which had in the course of time
assumed so many different forms, now began to frame their own laws, and
to choose their own leaders. The members of each association had their
peculiar badge of distinction, others wore their colours; and in the
very nature of things, the constitution of such unions became more
elaborate; their regulations increased in number; and ceremonies, in
order to give to the whole exterior pomp and circumstance, could not be
long wanting. The rulers of an earlier age saw with approval that the
studentships showed themselves in the greatest possible splendour on
public and solemn occasions; and the services which in times of war the
student youth rendered to the state, increased their consideration. In
those days, the carrying of weapons was conditionally permitted. So is
it declared in an early ordinance published at Heidelberg:--"But it is
expressly forbidden at evening, and after the tolling of the bell which
calls the night-watch to their duty, to go about the city with arms."
To which is added the menace, "that if any one dares to transgress this
regulation, neither the rector nor the high school shall be allowed to
liberate or to defend him."

The people, on all occasions, have delighted especially in investing
public acts with pageantry; as for instance, in the conferring of the
doctoral degree. This was attended with great ceremony, and without
sparing of cost. The costume of professors and directors was a peculiar
one; and the latter even in recent years, in many of the High Schools,
were expected to appear in black silk stockings, short breeches, a
two-pointed hat, and a sword by the side. We see a remains of this
ceremonial yet in the public solemnities of the universities, as in
Heidelberg, on the birthday of the Grand Duke. On this occasion a
procession, composed of the academical professors and of a deputation
from the students, proceeds from the hall of the universities to a
public solemn service in the church, and afterwards concludes the
festival by a dinner.

But to return to the unions. Thus were these sanctioned by the state,
and their rules acknowledged by it. This relation betwixt them and the
state yet continues in Bavaria, where the Chores are bound to join
themselves to the public processions in foil costume, in order to
enhance their splendour. We have alluded to the original division of
these into natural landsmanschafts; to their combination into one
burschenschaft, or burschenship; but in all these, recent times have
produced a great change. The greater part of the German governments
have strictly prohibited the existence of any unions whatever, bear
what name they may. The ground of this prohibition we will inquire more
nearly into in another place. We will not here inquire whether the
teachers of the universities were at all secretly concerned or
concurrent in this measure; whether it be possible, at once, to
extirpate, trunk and stalk, these unions, which are as fast rooted as
the duel itself. We will not ask whether these unions do not yet
continue to exist in secret; and whether in Heidelberg, with whose
students we are seeking in these pages more particularly to make
ourselves acquainted, this possibly be still the case. But, as in other
universities, they actually do yet exist, and as it is so recently that
they have been generally forbidden, we will, for once, regard them as
existing, and notice more particularly their constitution.

This constitution is become by degrees very elaborate, and that
necessarily so, in order to uphold the tottering fabric, since Chore
life no longer retains the freshness of its early days. In the olden
time, when every academician belonged to these unions, they stretched
the authority of their laws over every student. But this is no longer
the case. Now, the smaller proportion of the students only enter into
these unions, which nevertheless represent, to a certain degree, the
studentship; and wherever it becomes necessary to defend the interests
of Studentdom, the whole body is ready to join them. Certain of their
laws, whether descending from the early times, and which are,
therefore, faithfully maintained by the Chore members, or those which
have been enacted in modern times by the Chores, yet equally extend to
the whole body, and possess an influence which can be denied by none,
since it is equally exerted by the Chores over all.

It is only through these greater organized masses that it is possible
for studentship to proceed in its oneness. The internal arrangements of
a Chore possess, on this one account, an interest, and deserve our
attention the more, inasmuch as we have already said these Chores exert
an influence over the rest of the students; and this renders it
incumbent that before we speak of the students at large, we should
acquaint ourselves more intimately with the present Chore life.




                               CHAPTER III.

                               THE CHORE.

            Now first of all, to drive scholastic folly,
            I'll bring thee to a jovial set, and jolly.
                                                 _Goethe's Faust_.


The different Chores have adopted their names, exactly like the early
landsmanschafts, from the different German nations. Yet are these, as
we have already hinted, no longer so scrupulous in the reception of the
new members as those were, to which none could belong but the actual
natives of that country whose appellation the union bore. If any man
would still persuade himself that the ancient practice is yet
continued, he must construct in his own head a very peculiar geography.
As these unions bear the names of the different nations, so the members
of each wore publicly their respective colours, which, since the
interdict against them, of course, is no longer the case. These colours
were not only displayed on the cap, but also on a broad band which was
worn over the breast. The prohibition of the Chore colours was a severe
blow to the unions, and the students sought in various ways waggishly
to surmount it. Instead, therefore, of one student, as before, wearing
the three united colours, as it might be green, white, and black,--each
Chore having, for the most part, like its nation, three,--now went
three students arm in arm, each of them wearing one of the three
colours, so that the whole three colours were combined in three
friends. This attempt, however, led its authors no further than into
the student-prison.

The principal of the regular Chores are--

      The Rhenish, whose colours are--blue, red, and white.
      The Hanseatic,        "     "   white, red, and white.
      The Westphalian,      "     "   green, white, and black.
      The Swabian,          "     "   black, yellow, and white.
      The Nassau,           "     "   blue, white, and orange.
      The Swiss,            "     "   green, red, and gold.
      The Sachsen-Borussen, or Prussian, white, green, black and white.
      The English, in Leipsic only.

Besides this, each Chore has its sign, or token; that is, certain
letters curiously interwoven, with which it signs its documents, and
which is known to all the other Chores. The number of these Chores is
not always the same in the universities. Now one dissolves itself on
account of the fewness of its members; and now a new one shows itself.
When a number of students find themselves together, who regard
themselves numerous enough to constitute a Chore, and are desirous to
become such, the first thing which they proceed to do is to elect their
leaders. These, as the representatives of the new union, appear before
the S. C.--that is, the senior convent, or assembly of seniors--which
is the highest tribunal of the students for the settlement of all
affairs occurring amongst them. This tribunal inquires into the
sufficiency of the aspirants, and if the result is satisfactory, gives
its consent. The Chore appears as such at the next _Allgemeine_. By the
_Allgemeine_ is understood the meeting of the whole united Chores,
which takes place from time to time in an _Allgemeine Kneipe_, or
general drinking company, in the same manner as each particular Chore
holds, every evening, its meeting, where the members drink, sing, and
entertain each other. In this _Allgemeine_, or general meeting, the
members of the different Chores have a fine opportunity to pick
quarrels with one another,--in student phrase, to _touchiren_ each
other; that is, to give offence, so that the swords may not rust. The
newly established Chore now takes the customary course. It strikes up a
friendly alliance with one of the already existing Chores, in which its
members find the greatest number of their acquaintances, at the same
time that it assumes a hostile attitude to another. It falls into
dispute with the hostile Chore, and what is called the _Chore-hatze_, a
regular Chore-baiting, breaks out; that is, there ensues a general
challenging between the members of the two Chores.

The duels thus originated are fought in succession, and the Chore is
said to _pawk_ itself out; that is, to drum or fight itself forward.
Hereby it testifies its mastership with its weapons, and intense is the
interest which hangs on the result of the _Paw-kereien_, or fights,
between the leaders of each Chore. The conquerors have their victory
celebrated by their companions the same evening in the Kneipe, where
they triumph over their antagonists. When a Chore has thus proved
itself, it holds its _Antritt-Commers_--entrance, or opening commerce,
or festivity, of which more hereafter; and to which the new Chore
invites the leaders of the other Chores. The qualifications by which a
member of a Chore can raise himself in it, are practice in the exercise
of arms, bodily and intellectual dexterity in general; a good stomach,
that he may be able to carry plenty of beer; and, besides these, a
powerful voice is a grand requisite. As observed, the members of the
Chore elect their leaders. The first of these is the _Senior_. He must
possess the qualifications we have mentioned in a preeminent degree,
and must have already passed through the other offices of the Chore, as
here following. He possesses a great and scarcely limited power, and
his duty in return is to advance every where the interests of the
Chore, to exert himself for its credit in connexion with and in
reference to the other Chores, and thus to maintain its respect, so as
much as possible to raise its splendour and reputation; in short, he
must, on every occasion, defend the honour of the Chore. He who
possesses the next place of honour is called the _Consenior_, or
_Zweiter Chargirte_, that is, holder of the second charge; and next to
him stands the _Dritte Chargirte_, or third officer. The _Consenior_
is, as it were, war-minister and general in the same person. All that
relates to weapons and their use belongs to his department; he has
therefore the care of the Fecht-boden, or fencing-school, and the
weapons of the duel. He must be a good swordsman, as he is bound to act
as second in every occurring case, when any one fights with the weapons
of the Chore, and no other able swordsman is ready to do the duty of
his office; he must be careful to have the weapons of the Chore, that
is, an armoury of all things which belong to the different species of
duel, always in the best condition. The _Dritte Chargirte_ represents
the finance-minister. He has to manage all the money affairs of the
Chore, and the Chore treasury is under his superintendence. This
is, in fact, a treasury, into which every member of the Chore
pays a determinate sum, out of which all expenses of the union are
defrayed. The remainder of the members of the Chore are styled
Chore-Burschen, and _Renoncen_; and to these, lastly, add themselves
the _Mit-kneipanten_, or boon-companions, who belong not properly to
the Chore itself. These are such students as join themselves to the
Chore, frequent the meetings at the _Kneipe_, and take part in their
other pleasures, without involving themselves with the affairs of the
Chore. They maintain a friendly intercourse with the students of the
Chore, augment the appearance of the Chore by their numbers, and in
return enjoy from the union a certain degree of protection, with whose
weapons they also fight. They pay less for the loan of the weapons than
the other students and are allowed to use them for a fixed sum for a
whole course, that is, for the half-year.

On the very lowest step of the Chore stands the _Renoncen_, who has
neither seat nor voice in the _Chore-Convent_, or official meeting of
the Chore. The _Renoncen_ are for the most part harassed with menial
services. They must convey the weapons--which are usually kept in the
place of contest, locked up, those of each Chore in its own chest--in
case of danger from the authorities, or of any necessity, to a place of
safety; when there is singing in the _Kneipe_, they must hand round the
_Commers-Books_, the song-books; and besides this, on occasion of every
duel that is to be fought with the weapons of the Chore, they must go
at night, after the _Kneipe_ is over, to the house of the Pawk-doctor,
the surgeon of the students, who is always in attendance at the
duels--and announce to him the fact, with the time at which it is to
take place. In all the Chores they are bound to appear at the _Kneipe_,
on certain days, and failing in this respect, are mulct in a pecuniary
fine. In different Chores this attendance of the _Renonce_ is
different: in some, it must be daily; in others, three or four times a
week; and is not to be omitted without substantial reason.

Between the _Renoncen_ and the _Chore-Burschen_, stands the
_Fuchs-major_--the greater Fox--who is always the oldest _Renonce_, and
has the right to go into the _Chore-Convent_, but is not entitled there
to speak. If the _Renonce_ will advance to the rank of _Chore-Bursch_,
it is indispensable that he shall have fought three duels.

The _Chore-Bursch_ has this peculiar duty; he must settle and determine
with the strange _Kneipe_; that is, when a duel is to be fought with
the weapons of his Chore, he must seek out him who has challenged, in
his _Kneipe_, and announce to him the spot and hour at which the duel
is to take place. One of the _Chore-Burschen_ must always be present at
every duel which is fought with the weapons of their Chore. When the
_Dritte-Chargirte_, that is, the treasurer, is unable, from any cause,
to fulfil the duties of his office, the oldest _Chore-Bursch_ must
officiate for him; so also in cases of similar emergency, the
_Dritte-Chargirte_ steps into the place of the second, and he into that
of the _Senior_. Besides the obligation to appear on the appointed
_Kneipe_ days, the Chore members must also, at the fixed hours, attend
the fencing-school, or pay a pecuniary penalty. The reception of a
_Renonce_ into the Chore, as well as his advancement to the rank of
_Bursch_, is accompanied by certain solemnities, and by the reading of
the constitution of the union. This constitution is held profoundly
secret, and cannot pass out of the hands of the three _Chargirten_, who
received it at the opening of the Chore, from the _Senioren-Convent_,
or official meeting of the _Seniors_ of the different Chores--the
so-called S. C. Every Chore has its weekly _Chore-Convent_, wherein the
_Senior_ presides, and the _Chore-Burschen_ are present. Here the
affairs of the Chore are discussed, and resolutions passed. The
_Consenior_ opens these resolutions to the _Renouncen_, in the likewise
weekly held _Renoncen-Convent_, or official meeting of the _Renoncen_,
which has to carry them into effect, without power to alter them.

As the _Chore-Convent_ in each Chore is, so to say, its first board of
Administration, so there is a supreme board over all the Chores, and
thus, to a certain degree, over the whole body of students. It
constitutes the highest court of honour of the students. It is composed
of the whole _Chargirten_ of the whole Chores. Each Chore possesses, in
alphabetical rotation, the presidency; and the _Convents_, or meetings,
held at the _Kneipe_-room of that Chore which at that time is in power.
The presidency changes monthly, so that, as the court is held four
times in each month, it falls four times in each Chore, which has to
defray the cost of the beer that is therein drunk. The _Senior_
of this Chore is president, the _Consenior_ vice-president, and the
_Dritte-Chargirte_ secretary. Under the jurisdiction of this court fall
general affairs, those which affect the interests of all students; and
it passes all the resolutions, to which the whole student-body of the
university must submit itself. It keeps what students call _Allgemeine
Comment_, that is, the student code of laws. It addresses itself, to
protect their rights from all encroachments. It hurls the terrors of
its _Bannstrahl_, that is, of its power of excommunication, upon
students or citizens, upon individuals or large bodies. When a burger
of the university city, or of the vicinity, whose trade derives benefit
from the students--for example, an innkeeper, or a shopkeeper--treats a
student harshly or unjustly, the complaint must lay his charge before
this court. His memorial to the S. C. must be drawn up in due form,
according to the nature of its contents, and established custom, and
must bear the signature of one of the Seniors. The S. C. now makes
inquiry into the guilt or innocence of the accused. If he be found
guilty, it decrees the punishment, which consists in proscription, for
a longer or shorter period. This state of proscription, or being under
the bann, is very exactly determined in years, months, weeks, and days;
and during this period no student, be he in Chore or not in Chore, dare
to purchase any thing from the condemned, or enter his house, otherwise
he exposes himself to the certain danger of being also laid under the
bann, and the Chores regularly send their people to see whether any
violation of their edict take place. For instance, should a proscribed
innkeeper have a ball or dance in his house, the Chore emissaries will
be there to see whether any student shows himself at it. The student
falls under similar punishment who is accused and found guilty of
refusing to give satisfaction by duel to another that he has insulted.
Yet is no one compelled to the duel by this regulation. If a student
will not fight, whether from a principle against it, or any other
cause, he must, once for all, announce this fact to the S. C, and he
stands exempt, only, he cannot be allowed to make any exception to the
rule which he has himself thus laid down. If he commits assault or
aggression against any student or students, having thus sheltered
himself from the necessity of the duel, though he be no longer amenable
to this particular law of the student world, he is still amenable to
the laws of his country, and may be summoned before the amtmann to
answer for his offence. Should he meanly avail himself of such a
declaration against fighting, and yet permit himself to insult or annoy
his fellow-students, so cunningly as not to come within the operation
of any civil statute, and yet to be offensive and obnoxious to the
rules and maxims of social life, he will be shunned and despised by the
students, and will find himself pretty much in the same situation as he
who is actually under the bann. The bann is chiefly launched against
students for such offences as are considered to amount to loss of
honour--such as one student giving another a box on the ear, or a
student committing a theft; and therefore to him who lies under the
_Verruf_, or proscription, on such account, there remains scarcely an
alternative but to quit the university, where every channel of
intercourse would be closed against him, and where he would be shunned
by all. Whole university cities have at times been laid under the bann,
examples of which we shall give as we proceed.

The _Chargirten_ watch over the institutions of the Chores and of the
students in general,--or, in other words, over the so-called
_Allgemeine Comment_. They settle also the time, place, and manner of
all the public festivities and celebrations. They determine whether,
and in what style, a torch-train, or a "Vivat," shall be got up; in
what manner a deceased member of the Chore shall be interred; and how
the studentship shall be represented in the public solemnities of the
High School. They direct the choice of the ball directors, who take
part in the direction of the public balls, as, for instance, in those
at the Museum at Heidelberg. The presiding Chore fixes the Allgemeine,
or general assembly, and announces it to the other Chores.

Besides this court of honour, there also exists a Beer court, which has
to settle all contentions that arise in the drinking companies on
points of drinking etiquette, which, as we shall hereafter find, are no
few in number. To the constitution of this beer court, one man is
chosen out of each Chore, and the oldest Chore-Bursch is generally
elected for this purpose. It is held in regular routine at every
Kneipe-room of the Chores in succession. Of the beer court generally we
shall, anon, speak more particularly, and here need say no more than
that before the principal Beer court, the accuser must have two
witnesses, who must give their statements on their word of honour,[3]
and the accused must in his defence be supported by two witnesses also.
Thus constitute, as may be seen from what is already stated, these
unions, an aristocracy amongst the students, which exercises a certain
influence over the general academical class; which contributes to
establish a principle of unity amongst them; and whose members are
ready to give up some portion of their personal freedom, for the
consideration and authority which they acquire in the social system;
and so alluring is the feeling of the members of Chores in public
processions, _Commerses_,--parties which they make to some place in the
country for a day's jollification, and whither they go in a long train
of carriages with outriders; and in _Comitaten_,--processions formed to
accompany a departing fellow-student with public honour out of the
city,--being enabled to play the gentleman, and to _renommiren_, or in
English popular phrase, "to cut a swell," that members are never
wanting to these societies.

There yet remains to be mentioned the numerous class of students
termed, in student phrase, Camels--amongst whom are again
contemptuously distinguished those who live totally isolated and
retired, and never on any occasion, or on any account, visit the
Chores, their _Kneips_, or take any part in their festivities and
processions, and are therefore ignominiously dubbed _Kettles_,
Bookworms, etc. In conclusion, we must employ a few sentences on the
early Burschenschaft and the modern fragments of its wreck.




                              CHAPTER IV.

                          THE BURSCHENSCHAFT.

But nothing comes up to our pleasant self-satisfaction, when we erect
ourselves into judges of the high and the distinguished, of Princes and
Statesmen; find public institutions clumsy and absurd; observe only
possible and actual impediments; and acknowledge neither the greatness
of the intention, nor the co-operation, which in every undertaking are
to be expected from time and circumstances.

                                       _Hauff's Memoirs of Satan_.


We have already traced the derivation of the word "Bursche," and
observed that the first unions of the students were designated
"Landsmanschafts" and "Orders." The origin of the first actual
Burschenschaft is to be sought in the times when, on the establishment
of the Rhenish Prince-league, which placed itself submissively under
the sceptre of Napoleon, and the consequent abdication of the imperial
throne of Germany by Francis II. in 1806, every heart that beat with a
German feeling must have been seized with the deepest sorrow at the
fall and dashing to pieces of the Fatherland. An earnest desire to be
able to give help to the outraged country--the belief in a God who
alone was able to free it from its oppressions--filled the heart of the
patriot, and must have roused him to a tone of mind, than which nothing
could be farther from that serene enjoyment of life, often bordering on
actual frivolity, to which the members of academical unions were not
rarely accustomed to resign themselves. A patriotic spirit, a zealous,
earnest aspiration, had already proclaimed itself in the latter
years of the former century. Already in its seventieth year had the
Poet-league at Göttingen organized itself under Klopstock. John
Heinrich Voss, the two Grafs Stollberg, Hölty, and others, belonged to
it. At the same time tumbled that fabric which the Order of Jesus had
artfully raised, and the German language was finally established in
those rights, out of which it had so long been expelled. The lachrymose
tribe of common tragedies, and the moving comedies with which Kotzebue
and Iffland overflowed the stage,[4] were compelled to give place to
knightly dramas, and Goethe's Götz von Berlichingen became for the
hundredth time imitated. The German Muse attained a higher flight
through Lessing, and finally displayed herself to the world in the two
noble forms of Schiller and Goethe. The first, far from all lightness,
full of deep earnestness and noble sentiment, sought chiefly to effect
the moral elevation and intellectual accomplishment of youth; and the
youthful freshness of his language gave to his often more philosophical
than poetical reflections and sentences, an irresistible charm for
young minds. Goethe moved in a contrary direction. With a predominant
sentiment for beauty, and an eminent talent for imitation, he sported
through every department of literature, and floated perpetually with
the current of the intellectual tendency of the age. By such men the
German language was speedily advanced to its point of perfection; the
French language ceased to be the conversation language of the court and
of the polite circles. Joseph II. introduced the German language into
the court of Vienna; after the death of Frederick II. it became
acknowledged as that of the court of Prussia. For a long time Weimar
became pre-eminently the capital city of German accomplishment; and
Goethe, Schiller, Wieland, Herder, and other distinguished men, found
in the court of Weimar, a sphere of action as honourable for themselves
as advantageous to the literature of their country. The French
ascendency in literature had thus ceased at the very point of time when
the French political ascendency came to lie heavy and oppressively on
the nation; the literary honour sharpened that bitter feeling of
political shame, and the more the German people learned to feel it, the
stronger became its impatience to liberate itself from that condition
into which it had been reduced by the French. But on whom must this
feeling have seized more powerfully than on the student? To whom must
the situation of Germany have occasioned more serious apprehensions
than to him? On the one hand, sufficiently instructed to perceive the
dangers which threatened the political and literary liberty of Germany;
on the other, full of youthful spirit, and of desires to help the
oppressed Fatherland,--such sentiments must have weaned the students
from the trivial pursuit of Landsmanships and Orders, and accordingly
those of the same sentiment united themselves into a Burschenschaft.
The object of this first union was noble; namely, to rescue the
Fatherland; and in order to be able to do this worthily, to raise up
men strengthened to the utmost completeness of both moral and physical
constitution. Thence came it, that bodily exercises, especially
gymnastics, rose into new existence; that the Burschen sought to
invigorate themselves by hardships of every kind; thence, that they
strove after the greatest possible purity of manners, and displayed a
spirit of hostility towards the less pure tendencies of the yet
existing orders. Germany's noblest sons belonged then to the
Burschenschafts. These unions had their leaders and laws, much in the
same manner as the Chores. Their leaders were the so-called
_Rügemeister_, monitors, or judges, and had their speaker, who, in the
assembly, made statement to the people of whatever affairs appeared of
importance to them. In these companies ruled no aristocratic power, as
was the case in those of the Chores, especially towards the younger
members. To establish a thorough union amongst the students, was a main
object of the Burschenschaft. On this account the duel was not
permitted between the members of the union; and duels between the
members of the orders were very much circumscribed, and only in cases
of real injuries, or gross offences, and then under certain conditions,
permitted by the court of honour. The Burschenschafts of different
university cities stood in combination with each other, and members
from one city were in the habit of making visits to the members of the
other university cities. The Burschenschafts, as then constituted, were
in most places allowed, or at least, tolerated. They celebrated often,
and with the consent of the prorector, their so-called foundation-day,
or anniversary, with great banqueting, public processions, music, and
torch-trains. The members of these companies conducted themselves so
discreetly, that people willingly suffered them, and any little
distinctions which might gratify youthful vanity--the wearing of the
old German costume, the short coat, the broad out-lying shirt-collar,
with the open breast, the cap which but scantily covered the long
down-hanging hair, and which, as well as the coat, was mostly of black
velvet--such old Germanisms and peculiar attire--were cheerfully
conceded to them. Hitherto must the life and movements of the
Burschenschaft be styled noble. With enthusiasm its members received
the call to the fight of freedom, which resounded from Prussia in the
year 1813; and from all the universities streamed forth volunteers, to
join themselves to the German host, which was to do battle with the
oppressors of the Fatherland. Theodore Körner has immortalized in his
songs the feelings and sentiments of the German youth at that glorious
crisis. Many Burschen died, like him, the hero's death, inspired with
equal zeal for the good cause, though it was alone permitted to the
poet to flash radiantly forth, as from a mirror, the inner glow of his
spirit in patriotic song.


                            THE SWORD SONG.

            Sword on my left side gleaming,
            What means thy clear eyes' beaming?
            Thou look'st with love on me,
            And I have joy in thee.
                  Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

            A soldier bears me dearly,
            Hence beam I forth so cheerly;
            I am a free man's choice,
            Which makes the Sword rejoice.
                  Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

            Good Sword! yes, free I hold thee,
            And in hearths love enfold thee,
            As if thou wert allied
            To me, a lovely bride.
                  Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

            Already it is tendered,
            To thee my life surrendered;
            Ah! were we so allied;
            When wilt thou fetch thy bride?
                  Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

            The bridal night's red morning
            Breaks to the trumpet's warning;
            When cannon peals begin,
            Fetch I the loved-one in.
                  Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

            O sweet embrace! untiring,
            I tarry still desiring;
            Then bridegroom fetch thou me,
            My garland waits for thee.
                  Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

            Why in thy scabbard ringing,
            Thou Iron-joy art springing
            In such wild battle-glow?
            My Sword, why ring'st thou so?
                  Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

            Ah! in the scabbard ringing,
            I long to be forth springing,
            Right wild with battle-glow;
            Hence, soldier, clink I so!
                  Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

            Wait in thy chamber narrow,
            What wouldst thou here, my marrow?
            Wait in thy chamber, wait;
            I'll fetch thee, ere 'tis late.
                  Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

            Leave me not long in sadness,
            Thou garden of love's gladness,
            Where blood-red roses breathe,
            And blossom flowers of death.
                  Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

            Unsheathe thee then, thou treasure,
            Of soldier's eyes the pleasure;
            Come forth, my Sword, come forth,
            On! to the father's hearth!
                  Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

            Aha! the glorious wedding,
            Here through the free air treading!
            How flames in sunshine bright,
            The steel so bridal white!
                  Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

            On, on, ye brave contenders!
            Ye German true defenders!
            And if your hearts be cold,
            The loved-one to them hold!
                  Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

            While on the left side sitting,
            Shy are her looks and flitting;
            But on the right, the bride
            Trusts God in all her pride.
            Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

            To iron mouth love-glowing,
            The bridal kiss bestowing,
            Be every lip applied;
            Curst he who leaves the bride!
                  Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

            Now let the loved-one sing forth!
            The dazzling flashes spring forth!
            Fast dawns the marriage tide,
            Hurrah, thou Iron Bride!
                  Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!


The battle of the people at Leipsic, in the year 1814, freed Germany
from its chains. For the complete liberation of Europe, and for the
restoration of state relations on a firm foundation, a Congress was
determined upon, which in the same year was held in Vienna. The task
which this congress had to discharge was the more difficult, in that
the people, inspired with a new spirit, in the consciousness of the
mighty exertions that they had made, cherished hopes and desires whose
realization did not coincide with the interests of Princes. The
settlement of territorial relations, and organization of a new general
constitution for all Germany, engrossed its deliberations. The
restoration of the German empire, which was demanded by a majority of
voices, was rendered impossible by the jealousy on the part of the
kings of the Rhine-league of their sovereignties. As those states which
had sprung up and become great under the former German empire, were now
become independent, there remained no alternative, if they were to
submit themselves anew to a paternal authority, but, instead of the old
German empire, to substitute a sort of family compact The return of
Napoleon hastened the settlement of the fundamental principles of a
German international-compact; and after eleven sittings, on the 8th of
June, 1815, the _Bundes-Acte_, or Act of Convention, was signed and
published.

With the rising of the people against Napoleon, a greater life and
cordiality of religious faith had come back. This expressed itself in
the Holy Alliance. For the maintenance of European peace, the three
powers--Austria, Russia, and Prussia--not only renewed their alliance,
but based it again upon a religious foundation. On the 26th Sept. 1815,
the Holy Alliance was concluded by the three monarchs themselves,
without assistance or advice of a minister. By this they bound
themselves, the contracting parties, both in the management of their
kingdoms and in their transactions with other states, to take alone as
their guides the precepts of the Christian religion, the commands of
justice, of love, and peace. They expressed a firm resolution, in
accordance with the Sacred Writings, to continue in the covenant of a
true and indissoluble brotherly love; that national divisions and
national animosity should thenceforward retreat before the
consideration that their people were the common members of one and the
same Christian empire; the princes themselves should acknowledge that
the great Christian nation to which they and their people belonged, had
in reality no other rulers than Him from whom alone power doth proceed,
that is God, and the Saviour Jesus Christ. At the same time were all
states solicited to give in their concurrence, and were assured that on
recognition of these avowed principles of this Alliance, with alacrity
and love they would be received into the sacred covenant. The Holy
Alliance found numerous participants. Most of the European states sent
in their formal adhesion in the course of the year 1816. One might
imagine that all parties--princes and people--were about to co-operate
in the sentiment so finely expressed in Arndt's famous song--


                        THE GERMAN'S FATHERLAND.

            Which is the German's Fatherland;
            Is't Prussian-land? Is't Swabian-land?
            Is't where on Rhine the red grapes hang?
            Where o'er the Baltic sea-mews clang?
                        Oh no! oh no! oh no! oh no!
                        His Fatherland must wider go!

            Which is the German's Fatherland?
            Is't Styrian, or Bavarian land?
            Is't where the Marsen's herds do wind?[4]
            I'st where the Markers iron find[5]
                        Oh no! etc.

            Which is the German's Fatherland?
            Westphalian, or Pomerian land?
            Is't where the sand from sea-down blows?
            Is't where the Danube foaming flows?
                        Oh no! etc.

            Which is the German's Fatherland?
            So name to me the mighty land.
            The land of Hofer?--or of Tell?
            Both land and people love I well.
                        Oh no! etc.

            Which is the German's Fatherland?
            So name to me that mighty land.
            The Austrian land it sure must be,
            With glory crowned and victory!
                        Oh no! etc.

            Which is the German's Fatherland?
            So name to me that mighty land.
            Is't what the Princes' hollow theft,
            From Emperor and from Empire reft?
                        Oh no! etc.

            Which is the German's Fatherland?
            So name me finally that land!
            Wide as the German tree tongue springs,
            And hymns to God in heaven sings!
                        That shall it be! that shall it be!
                        That land brave German's giv'n to thee!

            That is the German's Fatherland,
            Where oaths are sworn by grasp of hand;
            Where in all eyes clear truth doth shine;
            Where in warm hearts sits love benign.
                        That shall it be! etc.

            That is the German's Fatherland,
            Where foreign folly scorn doth brand;
            Where all that's base 'neath hate must bend;
            Where all that's noble name we Friend.
                        That shall it be! that shall it be!
                        That whole, the German land shall be!

            That whole, the German land shall be!
            O God of Heaven! hither see!
            And give us genuine German soul,
            That we may love it high and whole.
                        That shall it be! etc.


But with the peace which succeeded the second overthrow of Napoleon,
the expectations of the German nation began to exhibit themselves more
clearly; and out of the disproportion between them and that which was
done to satisfy them, sprang the germs of mistrust between the princes
and the people. The opening of the _Bundesversammlung_, or confederated
assembly, Nov. 5, 1816, betrayed not only the imperfection of the
constitution, which had been thrown together in a hurry, but also the
uncertainty of the assembly itself, of the extent of its delegated
powers. Its declaration that Germany was not to be considered as a
united state, but as a confederation of states--(nicht als ein
Bundesstaat, sondern als ein Staaten-bund)--gave the less satisfaction,
as it was just contrary to what was desired. The nation desired
earnestly a common all-embracing bond of union and communion, and not
merely a confederacy of their sovereign princes, which the interests of
the moment, as they had originated it, would also dissolve again.

The general excitement in Germany received a palpable point of demand
in the thirteenth article of the Act of Confederation. In most of the
German states the anxiety for a representative constitution displayed
itself in such a manner as rendered in the highest degree difficult an
accordance between princes and subjects.

In Prussia especially, the constitution of the monarchy opposed so many
difficulties to the establishment of a national representation, that
its postponement was inevitable; and passionate discontent saw in the
impracticability nothing but an evil disposition. In the other German
states, the steps made towards the passing of a constitution conducted
to as little result; the princes and popular representatives could not
agree, since the first were as sparing in their concessions as the
latter were unbounded in their demands. But the spirit which was in
Germany striving after the constitutional organization of states, had
not every where confined itself within due bounds. The secret unions
which were formed during the ascendency of Napoleon still continued.
The excitement of the public mind, which at an earlier period had been
favoured even by the government itself, so far from having subsided,
had rather received a new impulse, and as it had now necessarily lost
its outward tendency, it sought to take effect in the heart of Germany.
The government saw with suspicion the drift of the secret unions, and
their influence on the Gymnastic schools and universities; they heard
with astonishment, the bold language of the rising generation
approximating itself to political fanaticism. The German Confederation
satisfied not these heads on fire with ideas of one and a free Germany.
The restoration of the empire, in connexion with one of the prevailing
theories of conformable national representation, was the master desire
of a numerous party, which was spread wide through Germany, and
rendered the universities the seminaries of their doctrines. The youth
entered with pride into the idea, that they were called to work out
their salvation, from the circumstances to which their fathers had
reduced them. Political notions of the Middle Ages mingled themselves
in the heads of the student youth, with the revolutionary doctrines of
modern times, and received, moreover, from religious enthusiasm, a dark
addition. Thus degenerated the Burschenschaft, in a manner most deeply
to be deplored, and demonstrated in a melancholy degree how near to
each other lie the boundaries of truth and falsehood. Noble patriotism
metamorphosed itself into a gloomy fanaticism,--zeal for religion and
morals, into a hollow hypocrisy, and into a still more dangerous
pseudo-philosophy. The landsmannschafts became continually weaker in
the German universities, and the young men every day added themselves
to the burschenschaft in greater numbers. Truly the greater number of
them never dreamed to what lengths such a political fanaticism could
lead them; and only by degrees and unobserved mounted the arrogance of
an inconsiderate youth, till at length it persuaded itself that it
alone had fought out the liberation war, and therefore was now called
to give to Fatherland a new constitution.

These perilous imaginations grew continually faster and faster into
that horrible avalanche which threatened to overwhelm every thing. What
a difference between the years 1816 and 1817, when one compares the
celebration of the peace anniversary of 1816, with that of the
celebration of the October days of 1817!

On the 18th, 19th, and 20th of January, 1816, Jena, amongst other
universities, celebrated the peace-festival in a style and manner,
which, say the newspapers of the time, deserve to be published and
handed down to posterity.

The report of this festival stands thus:--On the 16th day of January
was issued from the grand-ducal police commission, and the city council
of Jena, a public programme in regard to this festival. In pursuance of
its ordinations, on the 17th, all the bells were rung at noon. Before
and after the ringing, mortars and cannon were fired at the outer gate.
At eight o'clock in the evening the Landsturm beat tattoo with music.

On the 18th, in the morning, solemn music sounded from the towers, with
drum and trumpet, and firing of cannon. At nine o'clock assembled at
the council-house, the clergy, the city authorities, and the elder
burgers not belonging to the Landsturm, whither also an hour later
proceeded the whole body of school youth with their teachers. At ten
o'clock, the assembled company moved thence in procession to the city
church. A division of the Landsturm, as the procession arrived before
the church, made way for it Behind this division walked, as leader of
the whole procession, the depositor, or master of the ceremonies, in a
black dress, and next to him went the academical officials. Behind
these came two beadles, with silver sceptres, and cloaks of red cloth,
preceding the then prorector regens, Herr Hofrath Dr. Seidenstecker,
the prorector being, however, as well as the prorector designatus, Herr
Hofrath Dr. Voigt, who followed him, supported by two students. To the
prorectors succeeded the deacons of the four faculties, two and two,
and then followed the senate, the professors, the docenten, and the
students, whose banner was borne before them. As the train came in
front of the council-house, that of the city authorities joined it and
proceeded with it to the church, in which each party took their
respective seats. A second division of the Landsturm brought up the
rear of the train. All conducted themselves with the decorum and
dignity befitting this day, and the appearance of the whole
congregation excited a lively feeling of something high and important.

When the service was concluded, the train quitted the church in the
same order in which it had entered it. At the council-house, the
procession of the city authorities, and those who had joined them,
separated from that of the academicians, who directed their course
again to the university, where they broke off.

The students now betook themselves to the market-place, and after the
public appointed religious service which they had just attended,
performed a private act of devotion, which in its simplicity and
unostentatiousness was extremely striking and affecting. Ranged in a
circle, the banner and the leaders of the procession in its centre with
uncovered heads, they sung a hymn, written for the occasion by Herr
Ullmann of Liefland, with such truth and depth of feeling, that Herr
Hofrath Gabler, who with other professors, was present at this
solemnity, seized with enthusiastic emotion by its power, thanked the
students with heart-enkindled words for the elevation of soul that they
had occasioned. A beautiful conclusion of all the religious and public
solemnities of this day! for that many houses in the evening,
especially in the market-place, were found illuminated, was rather a
testimony of individual joy, which took this way to display itself.

The following day, the 19th of January, only was left to the students
to make their arrangements for their peace anniversary. And now once
more, in how German, how brave, how noble a style was every festive
preparation completed!

In the Rau-Thal, through which the haughty enemy of the German name had
formerly led his robber-horde to victory, an Oak was selected, that,
the witness of former overthrow, it might now, as a memorial of the
achieved liberty of Germany--of new flourishing man's strength, be
planted on that spot which, ten years before, on the most unfortunate
of all days, covered with rubbish and ashes, had been consecrated to a
dreadful remembrance. On the morning of the 19th, the oak was taken
from its old location, and towards noon brought to the city, where it
was received by the students with joyful hearts, and in procession of
two and two, conducted with music to the square, the scene of former
desolation. On the platz, a division of the Landsturm had stationed
itself, and assisted to form the circle; a division of the mounted
Landsturm had ridden in advance of the tree, A vast body of spectators
stood round the platz! many of the professors, and those who took
interest in the scene, stationed themselves near the oak.

When all was ready for the planting of the oak, a hymn composed for the
occasion by Herr Goering, from Weimar, to a tune furnished by Herr
Cotta, of Eisenach, was sung by the students, fervently and solemnly,
with uncovered heads as on the day before; then stepped Herr Horn of
Mechlenberg forth from the inner circle, and delivered a pregnant and
powerful speech with equal animation and grace. The attention and
silence of the vast throng of spectators during the delivery of this
speech, testified the impression it produced, to say nothing of its
subsequent influence. The speech ended; the planting of the oak was
performed, accompanied by the singing of a hymn, also composed by Herr
Goering, to a tune by Herr Cotta. The professors present testified
their interest and delight in the transaction, by each of them
scattering three handfuls of earth on the roots of the planted oak. But
numbers of the maidens and young ladies bound ribands on the
significant tree, eloquent with so many significations, thereby
proclaiming the strength, the desires, the sentiments, and hopes of
their hearts.

As now the oak, to which we will all wish a joyful and prosperous
growth, especially in its national indications, was planted, Herr Horn
pronounced the iambics written for the occasion by Herr Ullmann, with
the tone and feeling appropriate to their office and contents. The
whole transaction was concluded by the singing of hymns, composed by
Herr Neidhart, the elder of Ebersdorf in Voigtland, and breathing a
noble, powerful spirit, for right and freedom, which animated the whole
nation, and in its own language awarded to festival its high and
significant value. The occasion thus brought to its close--a solemnity
which our grandchildren may well hold sacred--the students marched in
procession of two to the market-place, where they excited one another
in brotherly union, with Arndt's thrilling hymn, to unity of spirit and
faithful confidence in the sentiments then and there implanted.


                            THE UNION SONG.

            In happy hour have we united,
              A mighty and a German choir!
            And hence from every soul excited,
              Burst hymns of praise to God once more;
            Since we stand here o'er high things musing,
              With feelings holy and profound,
            So the full heart its joy diffusing,
              Must swell with all its chords the sound.

            To whom shall first our thanks be pealed?
              To God's most high and wondrous name,
            Who in our shame's long night revealed,
              Arose before us all in flame.
            Who blasted all our foes' disdaining;
              Our strength and beauty all restored;
            Who on the stars for ever reigning,
              Sits there from age to age adored.

            Our second wish--to whom then flies it?
              To Fatherland's high glory whole.
            Perdition seize all who despise it,
              Hail! he who yields it life and soul!
            Through virtues pass it still be-wondered;
              Beloved for honesty and right,
            Proud from year-hundred to year-hundred,
              In strength and honour ever bright.

            To joys of German men,--a measure!
              One third--in clearer joy and thanks;
            For freedom is the German pleasure;
              For freedom leads our German ranks.
            For it to live, for it to perish,--
              Each German bosom burns for this;
            For this the hero-death to cherish,
              Is German honour, German bliss.

            The fourth--in solemn consecration,--
              Hands, hearts aloft together go!
            Thou ancient truth--and of our nation,
              Thou faith, united--"live ye hoch!"
            With these all doubts and fears we banish,
              These of our bond are rock and shield;
            The world indeed itself must vanish,
              When men their plighted word shall yield.

            Close in,--the sacred circle throng now,
              And raise the clash of triumph strong;
            From heart to heart, from tongue to tongue now,
              Like lightning send this joyful song:--
            The Word that knits our bond for ever;
              The Good no fiend can from us rend,--
            Nor tyrant villany can sever,--
              Believe!--maintain it to the end!


The afternoon and evening were dedicated by them to joyous
entertainment at the Feurstenkeller, and with testimonies of love and
respect towards their teachers, that remarkable and distinguished day
terminated. The sacred celebration of the peace-festival on the part of
the university, was held on Sunday, the 21st February. The church
service itself was very simple, but highly solemn, and worthy of the
high thoughts which the celebration of such a day could not fail to
call forth. There remained nothing to desire, but that the noble spirit
and sterling sentiments which had every where displayed themselves so
luminously on that day, should continue to be the universal ruling
ones.

So details a newspaper of the time, the celebration of this beautiful
festival. But the concluding wish found not its fulfilment in the
following year--for in the year 1817 was held the festival on the
Wartburg; in the next year the congress of the Burschenschaft at Jena;
and in 1819 transpired the bloody deed of Sand, a warning sign of the
progress of political fanaticism from its innocent commencement, to
that act which found its just reward on the scaffold.

In the year 1817 the celebration of the reformation anniversary falling
in conjunction with the anniversary of the Leipsic Folksbattle, it was
too exciting an occasion for the young state reformers not to seize on
it for the demonstration of their views and aims. The festival was
therefore celebrated on the 18th of October, by the students of most of
the German universities on the Wartburg, in a manner which quickly
excited the attention of the governments. The Prussian government, in
particular, ordered the trial of all those who had taken part in the
festival; and several professors who had been present, particularly
Fries, came under judicial examination. From these trials it was made
obvious that the few only were in the secret of the proposed auto-da-fé
to be held in Eisenach, but that the majority regarded it as a
desirable opportunity for drawing the Burschenschaft into a more
intimate and close union, so that it might the more powerfully operate
against the landsmanschafts.

The festival was, like the prior one of October, celebrated with much
enthusiasm, with sacred service, with singing of Fatherland hymns, and
other solemnities: but speeches were delivered, on this occasion, which
had not a thoroughly correct tendency, and must appear the more
unfitting from the mouth of a teacher of youth. On the evening of the
18th of October, as formerly on that night, fires blazed up on every
hill top; but those of the Burschenschaft who had stationed themselves
around the fire on the Wartburg, cast into the flames the German
History of Kotzebue, as well as some other detested writings. None of
the professors, however, were present at this transaction, and none of
the speeches connected therewith were delivered by them. That the acts
of the Congress of Vienna had been also burnt there, was proved by the
inquiry to be false.

The Wartburg festival was concluded on the 19th of October by the
assembled participants, to the number of about 600, taking the
sacrament in the church. The consequence of this festival was the
promotion of the idea here conceived, of one universal German
Burschenschaft; that the union of the whole body of student youth must
pervade, and be the means of working out, the union of the whole
Fatherland.

On the 21st of October, 1818, at Jena, a congress of students, from
fourteen universities, was held; then and there the union of the
Burschenschafts was discussed, and its constitution established. "One
Empire, one Religion, Freedom and Equality!" This was the watchword of
the combination, which, since the Wartburg festival, had exchanged its
former colours, namely, green, blue, and white, for the union badge,
black, red, and a metallic or embroidered oak leaf in the cap. To this
circumstance alludes the following celebrated song--


                           ARE GERMAN HEARTS.

            Are German hearts with strength and courage beating?
              There to the clang of beakers gleams the sword,
            And true and steadfast in our place of meeting,
              We peal aloud in song the fiery word!
                Though rocks and oak trees shiver,
                We, we will tremble never!
            Strong like the tempest see the youths go by,
            For Fatherland to combat and to die!

            Red, red as true-love, be the brother token,
              And pure like gold the soul within imprest,
            And that in death our spirits be not broken,
              Black be the ribbon bound about the breast
                                        Though rocks, etc.

            We know the strength in honest swords residing,
              Bold is the brow, and strong the arm to smite;
            We fail not, faint not, in the right confiding,
              When calls the Fatherland his sons to fight.
                                        Though rocks, etc.

            So, on the German sword, to this alliance,
              In life and death let solemn faith he vow'd!
            Up, Brothers, up! the Fatherland's reliance,
              And to the blood-red morning cry aloud.
                                        Though rocks, etc.

            And thou, Beloved, who in hours the dearest,
              Hast nerved thy friend with many a look and tone,
            For thee my heart will beat when death comes nearest,
              For unto true love change is never known.
                                        Though rocks, etc.

            And now, since fate may tear us from each other,
              Let each man grasp of each the brother-hand,
            And swear once more, O every German Brother,
              Truth to the bond, truth to the Fatherland!
                    Though rocks and oak-trees shiver,
                    We, we will tremble never!
            Strong like the tempest see the youths go by,
            For Fatherland to combat and to die!


The laws of the Burschenschaft, or its constitution, bore the
name--"Custom of the Burschenschaft." Amongst other things stand the
following:

"In the German Fatherland we will live and move. We will perish with
it, or die free in it, if God's great call ordain. Live the German
speech for ever! Flourish the true chivalry! Let Germany be free!

"He who avows these ideas, and is willing to contend for their
advancement, is our beloved brother. To accomplish these high
endeavours, there must be a universal free Burschenschaft throughout
all Germany.

"There can no salvation come to our beloved Germany unless through such
a free and universal Burschenschaft, in which Germany's noblest youth
continues intimately fraternized, in which every one learns to know his
duty--and which Burschenschaft shall always find the Gymnastic schools
its defence and alarm-post.

"We will never apply the word Fatherland to that state in which we were
born: Germany is our Fatherland; the state in which we are born is our
Home.

"We will hold these principles firmly and honourably; spread them by
every possible means; and with all our power, now as youths, and
hereafter as men, labour to bring them into exercise.

"When we quit the High School, and are invested with any office, be it
high or low, we will fulfil the same honourably, true to Prince and
Fatherland, and in such a manner administer it as shall be in
accordance with the spirit of these principles.

"The law of the people shall be the will of the Prince. Liberty and
Equality are the highest good; after which we have to strive, and from
which strift no pious and honest German can ever desist.

"Every student who maintains honour and virtue, shall be a free German
Bursche: subject to no one; inferior to no one; all shall be equal,
obeying only the laws."

From this time forward the union laboured actively at throwing out and
determining the principles of a future civil and ecclesiastical
constitution for Germany, and in the dissemination of revolutionary
writings. But unfortunately, as in all times of high excitement,
spirits of a reckless and darker character mingled themselves with the
nobler ones of liberty: for the realization of their intrinsically
criminal wishes, criminal means also were necessary, and the spirit of
youth was thus unconsciously conducted by fanaticism into unhallowed
and bloodthirsty principles, and in the bosom of the Burschenschaft
union, formed itself a closer union of _The Unrestricted_, whose name
revealed sufficiently, that they would hesitate at no means by which
they might arrive at their object. The misguided and blamable tendency
of this spirit, to the horror of many who unconsciously implicated
themselves in its criminal proceedings, was brought to light by some
striking circumstances. On the 23d of March, 1810, the student Sand
murdered the Russian Counsellor of State, Von Kotzebue, on no other
ground than that he held him to be a spy of the Russian government, and
an enemy of German liberty. He undertook the action with the full
persuasion that it was a just and noble deed, and his trial revealed
the horrible gulf of political immorality, unto the very brink of which
was brought the youth of Germany. A somewhat particular account of this
transaction, and of the circumstances of Sand's life, may fittingly
here find a place: and which may be relied on, being derived from the
relation published by the President of the Commission for the trial of
Sand, the State Counsellor, Von Hohenhorst himself.




                               CHAPTER V.

                           KARL LUDWIG SAND.


Karl Ludwig Sand was born at Wunsiedel, a little town in the district
of Baireuth, lying in the Fichtel Mountains, on the 5th of October,
1795. His father was pensionary officer of justice; and the family,
which consisted of three sons and two daughters, lived in the most
delightful domestic harmony. Sand grew up in his paternal city, under
the most careful guidance of his parents, whose good and thorough
education, and moral training, such are his own words, in comparison
with that of many, he never was able sufficiently to praise. There lay
in him the strongest and most delightful recollection of his
birthplace. Its very situation, he asserted, in the bosom of noble
mountains, in the midst of the great Fatherland, had wrought powerfully
upon his disposition of mind, which, especially since much sickness in
his early youth, had always been very still. In truth, Sand passed his
years of childhood in great weakness and many bodily ailments. In his
seventh year he took naturally the small-pox, and of a very bad kind,
which left behind them serious effects, especially a dangerous ulcer in
the head, of which the grisly scars always continued visible. On that
account the physicians forbade all mental exercise, and his proper
instruction could only be commenced at home in his tenth year. His
father explained, that a dejection of mind which long clung to him was
a consequence of the weakness which these complaints had left upon; and
therefore, where parents in general would put restraint on young people
of lively temperament, he, on the contrary, had always been anxious
that his son's disposition should not be further depressed. After Sand
had received his first instruction from the tutor, he was sent to the
Lyceum, in Wunsiedel. He afterwards followed his teacher to the
Gymnasium in Hof, there acquired the first elements of general
education, and proceeded in the study of ancient languages. Even at
this early period he entertained a vehement hatred to the French. As in
the spring of 1812 a great military train passed through Hof, he would
neither see the march of the French nor especially Napoleon, since he
believed that he could not endure to be in the presence of the arch
enemy of his native land, without an attempt to rush upon him and
destroy him.

He returned thence to his parents, with whom he continued till they
resolved to send him to Regensburg, where he proceeded towards the end
of the year 1812, with his tutor Saalfranc, and always called to mind
with extreme pleasure his abode there. The testimonies of his life and
habits during his sojourn in Hof and Regensburg, are greatly to his
credit His good capacity, his restless diligence, his deep study, and
not less his highly moral conduct, were greatly applauded. In his 18th
year awoke in Sand the resolve to co-operate in doing battle with the
common foe of his country. He may speak for himself.

"As in the spring of 1813 the French fled homewards, and Germany began
to rouse itself to take vengeance for the shame inflicted on it, there
awoke in me a new-born joy, a fresh mind, a new life; and from that
hour I doubted no more of a complete liberation from the old slavery,
although the heavens became so unpropitious to the Germans. With eager
heart and yet with all possible circumspection, I lived in the
newspapers of the time; and in the autumn of 1813, which I spent at
home, I obtained the permission to join myself to the host of Germany,
when in the meantime, came the intelligence of the battle of Leipsic,
which rendered my going forth unnecessary."

Sand returned once more to Regensburg, and proceeded thence to the
university of Tübingen. Here he passed quietly the winter half-year of
1814-15, and had begun the second half-year when Napoleon returned from
Elba, and Sand felt himself called to stand forth with his countrymen
in defence of Germany. His testimonies from Tübingen were highly
creditable, yet they expressed suspicions that during his abode there
he had been a member of a political union called Teutonia. Sand then
first, on the day before his departure, announced to his parents his
determination to enter into the army, and took farewell of them by
letter. The style and tendency of his letter differ essentially from
his subsequent compositions. We see in it only the youth full of zeal
and fervour for his country,--who, pure, and without mixture of his
subsequent political religious exaltation, avows his intimation to
fight to the death for his country and kindred. "With an inward
struggle," wrote he amongst other things, "held I myself back the last
time when the liberation of Germany was at stake, and it was only the
conviction that many thousands then stood in the field, eager for
battle and victory for the welfare of Germany, that could detain me."
In another place--"The spirit at home and in Bavaria may be as it will,
I hold it for the highest duty to fight for the liberty of my German
Fatherland; of my dear parents, brothers, and sisters; and of all the
good people who love me; and, should numbers gain the advantage over
us, to contend to the very last gasp, and triumph over a tyrant in
death. Ever shall your beloved images hover round me; ever will I have
God before my eyes and in my heart, that I may be strengthened to bear
with serenity all the fatigues and dangers of this holy war. Yet
wherefore make the hearts of each other so heavy? We alone have the
right, the sacred cause. There is a righteous God, and how then shall
we not have the victory?"

The letter concludes with the words of Theodore Körner, which Sand had
often in his mouth--


                  Though rages hell itself,
                  God, thy mighty hand,
                  Hurls down the tower of lies.

                         *   *   *

            Perchance high o'er the slaughtered foes
              The Star of Peace shall rise.


Sand set out with two friends on the way through Stuttgard to
Heidelberg, where he stayed some days, and then went on to Mannheim,
where he announced himself to the general staff of Graf Rechberg, and
was received as cadet in the volunteer Jägers of the Rezat Circle.
Before his departure from Tübingen, a friend presented him with a small
riband which he continually wore during the campaign, and afterwards,
at his arrest, it was still found round his neck. It was green and
white. The troops, which Sand's brother also had now joined, already in
Homberg, met the news of the victory of Waterloo; they marched forward,
however, to Meaux, and into the neighbourhood of Fontainbleau, but soon
after drew into cantonments in Auxurre, and from thence marched
directly back, and entered Anspach the 2d of December, 1815. Sand
remembered his military career with the highest dissatisfaction, since,
as he expressed himself, he had never had the good fortune to kill a
Frenchman. He had written upon his riband these words:--"With this
dedicated I myself in 1815 to death. Was it not in earnest? Would I
have recrossed the Rhine again except as a conqueror!"

Sand betook himself to Erlangen, and occupied himself there two years
with the study of theology. Here it happened that in the summer of
1817, one of his dearest friends, while bathing, was drowned before his
eyes, and he himself was in great danger of his life. This loss
operated so strongly on his mind, that as he himself declared, he
believed that the spring of life was now over, and that its summer had
now shown itself. Consoled by his teachers and friends, he now gave the
first proof of his talents for preaching in the High Church at
Erlangen, continued there till the end of the half year, and then went
to Jena. Sand conducted himself during his residence in Erlangen as
exemplarily as before, yet he was at the same time an active member of
the Teutonia there; in fact he was twice a leader of this union, and
drew up a constitution for the Burschenschaft, under the title of the
Erlangen Burschenschaft-Custom. From Erlangen and Jena he made several
short journeys, and amongst them the one to Eisenach, which proved so
influential on his future life. There he joined in the celebration of
the festival on the Wartburg, on the 18th of October, 1817, and his
part in this transaction he thus describes:--

"On the 17th of October I arrived in Eisenach, and was chosen on the
festival-committee. I here helped to keep order; heard the speeches on
the Wartburg, but did not speak myself; I went in the evening to the
fire, and saw the books burnt. On the following morning I heard
speeches for the reconcilement of the disputes of many of the
student-quarrels of former years, and listened to the splendid orations
on the Fatherland. I accompanied the Burschen to the church, and
partook of the sacrament; then was the festival ended, and I returned
to Jena." He adds, that it had been a festival simply for the elevation
of the sacred cause, and that no determinate object besides had been
contemplated.

In Jena, Sand continued to educate himself, in order, as he expressed
himself, the better to look about himself, and to ground himself fairly
in the different departments of knowledge; till suddenly the inner call
for ever summoned him away. His teachers there gave their testimony
that he always appeared as a grave, quiet, and discreet man, zealously
striving after excellence. That he was accustomed to speak little,
since speaking appeared a difficulty to him; but that what he did say,
was always prudent, well-considered, and sensible, and that his
deportment had nothing displeasing in it, although it was energetic and
firm. During his abode in Jena, he was a member of the so-called
Burschenschaft, but at the same time also of another company, which he
termed a Literary Union. He made from Jena a journey into North
Germany, and visited many of the most celebrated battle-fields of both
past and modern times. After his return he proceeded again with his
studies with unremitting diligence, and had obtained permission from
his parents to continue another half-year in Jena, when he suddenly
broke off, on the 9th of March, 1819, at four o'clock in the morning,
and set out on his last fatally eventful journey towards Mannheim.

We have thus followed the thread of Sand's history to this period with
sufficient minuteness, and we have permitted ourselves to sketch it
with the more exactness, since it is particularly interesting to trace
all the causes which could conduct a character, otherwise so excellent,
to such a crime;--as, moreover, conjectures respecting these causes can
only be rightly founded on a real knowledge of the circumstances of the
case, and from these only can those conclusions be drawn, which were,
though without effect, employed in the defence of this singular man. In
his history we behold the fac-simile of the history of the whole
Burschenschaft to which he belonged. A description of his person, from
that officially drawn up, may precede the relation of his unhappy deed.
In the protocol it stands thus:--

"Sand was in age twenty-three and a half years; stood five feet six
inches high; had strong black hair and eyebrows; a high forehead, gray
eyes, longish nose, mouth of middle size, dark-brown very weak beard,
ordinary chin, broad countenance, tolerably healthy colour, with some
pock-marks in the face." His look was open, and for the most part
friendly, but not eminently intellectual; his physiognomy good-natured,
but not especially interesting; his visage might be termed an
involuntary mirror of his mind. So painted themselves wrath and scorn
upon it, when the speech turned upon Kotzebue and his connexion with
Germany; so might be read in it a painful, or an hostile feeling, when
the principles of his system must be attacked; so that, in the end,
very little attention became necessary to discern by it, when his
answers did not contain the truth. The play of the muscles of his
forehead was particularly strikingly acted upon by an internal feeling
of resistance, which generally rose in him when he desired by some
means to conceal the truth.

Kotzebue's writings had been long disliked by Sand. Many of his early
assertions betray it. Such was his observation to his father:--"Of what
use is the man's literary talent, when the German heart is wanting?" On
the burning of his History of Germany, on the Wartburg, he became
immediately watchful of him; but still more, when shortly afterwards
his literary _Wochenblatt_, or weekly paper, appeared. In this
publication, Kotzebue promulgated his opinions often and variously on
the then state of German affairs, and many of his views must have given
great displeasure. Thus, he contended especially against the promotion
of a combined and constitutional government in Germany, and asserted
that the loud demand for this was by no means the voice of the people,
of whom he very much doubted, whether they wanted any constitution at
all. For this bold assertion, Kotzebue was instantly attacked and
ridiculed on all sides. A specimen of the missiles launched against him
on the occasion, may be given from an article in the "Zeitung für die
elegante Welt,"--News for the Elegant World, in the year 1818:--

This serious doubt (that of Kotzebue) has fallen heavily on the heart.
We have, therefore, with eagerness undertaken the following proposal
for its solution. In Kotzebue's right hand lies, in fact, the means to
bring the matter to a tolerable certainty. If that gentleman will in
future take the field against the clamour for a constitution in all his
Plays with the same sober earnestness, and jibe and joke, with which he
has powerfully and perseveringly attacked other follies, then will the
success or the failure of his piece throw great light on the sentiments
of the people; and the multitude who, Herr von Kotzebue so justly
says, remain silent on the matter in debate--that means, _they print
nothing on it_--will certainly, by applauding or censuring, clapping
or hissing, speak out. Should the multitude, by hissing out
anti-constitutional pieces, declare for a constitution, so might the
theatre immediately furnish the government with a proof whether the
declaration was worthy of notice. They might now, as was done in Paris,
after the acting of Germanica, march soldiers--actual soldiers--upon
the stage, and let them present arms to the pit. If the multitude now
applauded or ran away, it would be the height of the ridiculous to give
them a constitution, since it would be manifest that they had not
courage to maintain themselves against the hand of power. But hissed
and clamoured they still, it would be time "to _prepare_ the demanded
_preparations_ for the _preparation_ of a constitution."[6]

Sand assigned the ground of his hate against Kotzebue, immediately in
the opening of his trial, and he reiterated the same as his actuating
motive at its close; namely,--in the evening after the murder, having
lost his voice, and being only able to express himself by signs, he
requested paper, and wrote with a blacklead pencil these scarcely
legible words:--"August von Kotzebue is the corrupter of youth,"--
alluding to Kotzebue's frequently slippery writings, as 'Barth with the
Iron Brow,' and such like,--"the slanderer of our people's history, and
the Russian spy upon our Fatherland."

Sand asserted, that by the insight which he had obtained into the
character and position of Kotzebue, he immediately perceived that it
was impossible that he could much longer continue to live in that
manner; but the resolution to destroy him with his own hand did not
awake suddenly in him, it demanded gradual growth, and came not to
maturity without a severe strife in his own bosom. The well-known
history of the discovered bulletin at length threw unquenchable fuel on
his burning hatred against Kotzebue.

Kotzebue was, in fact, commissioned by the Russian government to
furnish it with full reports on the political affairs and relations of
Germany, on the predominant popular opinion, and on its literary
transactions. He could, in truth, no more be styled a spy than an
ambassador can; but the reports which he delivered--the false and
detestable statements regarding Germany which he made in them, deserve
the severest condemnation. No one was aware of this secret practice of
Kotzebue's, till, through the faithlessness of a copyist, such a
bulletin was sent to the well-known historian Luden, then the editor of
the Jena "Nemesis," a literary paper. The bulletin contained sixteen
paragraphs upon Steffens (a writer on the state of those times),
Schmalz, Crome, the Allemannia, an opposition paper, the Nemesis, Jung
Stilling, English newspapers, mischievous nature of freedom of the
press, and, finally, a sort of apology for serfdom. Monarchy was
panegyrized in this bulletin, and Luden was represented as a learned
man, who, with others of the learned, longed heartily for a revolution,
that they might play their parts as popular speakers, deputies, and
representatives. Luden, enraged at these calumnies, published the
bulletin in the Nemesis, and commented on it in the most amusing
manner. Kotzebue, who had immediate information of this fact, procured
an order from the Weimar government for the seizure of these sheets, at
the moment they should be ready for issue: but Wieland, the editor of
the opposition paper, had already received proof-sheets of the article,
and caused it to appear at the same time in the People's Friend, which
he edited, with still more biting remarks; since Luden, in the Nemesis,
had expressed some doubts whether Kotzebue were really the author of
these malicious calumnies. A long legal process took place between
Kotzebue and the learned editors, and proceedings were laid before the
Spruch Collegium--College of Arbitration of the University of Leipsic.
These gentlemen were declared by this tribunal, guilty of a literary
robbery upon Kotzebue, since the bulletin was not intended or delivered
out by him for publication; but after the death of Kotzebue in the
following year, they were declared free from all penalty by the High
Court of Appeal in Weimar.

The fact, however, which finally and at once sealed the determination
of Sand, was the appearance of the work of Stourdze, and Kotzebue's
standing forth as his defender. Stourdze, a Russian, published a most
odious and miserable volume, in which he lauded absolute monarchy,
railed against freedom of the press, misrepresented the spirit of the
German High Schools in the most abominable terms, and at the same time
advised that they should be stripped of all their rights and
privileges, and laid under the strictest discipline. The author was
formally accused by the Burschenschaft of Jena for his calumnies, to
the Grand Duke of Weimar, who laid the case before the _Bundestag_.
Stourdze defended himself in the public papers; two youths, not
students, but belonging to the Burschenschaft, afterwards challenged
him to single combat, whom, however, he answered only with words in the
newspapers.

Sand now brooded a whole half-year in irresolution over this
thought--whether he should devote himself as the instrument for taking
out of the way this, in his eyes, so dangerous an enemy of the weal of
the German people. "The determination," said he, "must first progress
in myself to a greater maturity, since I have partly to contend in
myself with the natural shrinking from the performance of such a deed,
and partly with the oft recurring thought that I am worthy of and
qualified for something better, by the character of my mind, and my
already acquired accomplishments. I have also waited for a third, since
I had as good a right to wait for a third, as he to wait for me. But as
I found no one, this was likewise a ground of determination for myself.
Oft have I thought--'thou canst quietly live on, if but a third person
undertake the deed.' This waiting was thus properly only a wish that
another might step before me; for the rest, however, I knew no such
third."

Sand often prayed to God that this requisition might be allowed to
pass from him, and that he might be left to pursue his ordinary duties.
But in this inward warfare, the inner voice perpetually returned,
saying--"Thou hast promised so much, and hast yet done nothing." The
projected work stood thenceforth so vividly before his eyes, that his
imagination enabled him to sketch out a drawing of the murder-scene
beforehand, which was found amongst some indifferent pen-and-ink
outlines amongst his papers in Jena. Still he continued to waver, till
the newspapers brought a report, that Kotzebue intended to return to
Russia; and then stood forth Sand's resolution to murder the traitor,
let it turn out as it would, and though he should himself lead the way
to death for him. Besides this it was part of his plan to make a
confession, to bring the Death-Blow to the knowledge of the people. His
original plan was, after the accomplishment of the deed, to betake
himself to his weapons, and to make his escape if possible, so that
provided he effected his own retreat, self-destruction formed no part
of the scheme. While he brooded over his enterprise, he prepared the
instruments of his design. He made choice, to that end, of a smaller
and a greater dagger. The latter he called the small sword, and had it
made in Jena after a model in wax, prepared by his own hand, and from
his own drawing. For the carrying of these weapons he made a hole in
the breast of his waistcoat, in which on account of its weight, this
dagger hung; but for the lesser one he had a small hook sewed into the
left-arm sleeve of his coat, which by a small eye secured the sheath
there. Before setting out on his expedition of death, he completed his
Death-Blow, or Confession, prepared the fair copy, which after the
accomplishment of the act, he purposed to stick up in some public
place; then the original of the same, as he called it, and numerous
transcripts of the same. This Death-Blow was a document on which Sand
long laboured, and for the promulgation of which, after the deed, he
had taken measures. It was designed to be a call to the people to rise
and assert their liberty. As this composition not only places in the
clearest light the then overstrained state of Sand's mind, but also
gives us glimpses of many ideas of the Burschenschaft at that period,
which the government were afterwards obliged to hold in check, it shall
here find a place.


                   DEATH-BLOW TO AUGUST VON KOTZEBUE!

                        "ONLY IN VIRTUE, UNITY."

"Our days demand a decision for the law which God has written in
flaming characters in the hearts of his men. Prepare yourselves! decide
for life and for death!

"Open nightly profligacy is not the corruption which rages in our
blood, but vice devours around him only the more hideously under the
mantle of an accustomed pious politeness: falsehood masks itself under
a thousand assumed holy forms; and the condition of the people should
be the blossom of so many sacrifices, and is the state of the old
miserable laxity.

"Half-accomplished fools, and the stunted overwise, for ever deride the
truth, which unadorned and simple, throws itself on the human mind, and
they cripple and distort her use in life. The moral strength of the
Germans is split on the Babel of foreign affectation, and keeps itself
no longer in the house-life. The will is wanting in us for the deed.
The Fatherland fails the youth. Courtiers and money-service rule,
instead of that honour-firm integrity which has resigned itself to the
influence of time, and is become mouldy in it.

"The virtue of the burger class bends itself servilely at the nod of
the great, and rushes, with already gripped clutch, at the gold-bag.
The idleness of servants devours our bones; courage and hero-mind
display themselves alone in paper panoply amongst the whole people in
empty vapouring; and since they glow not as pure flames in every heart,
we find them not even in ourselves.

"Deep based on equally vile sentiments in the people, stands the most
sensual government; and unrestrained arbitrary power needs no other
protection than these;--_the separation fraternal hearts by the means
of jealously-guarded frontiers_, of the leading-strings of strict and
public surveillance; of _cradle-songs, and the sermons of sloth_; and
it rests itself as upon very sufficient props, on the wages and the
oaths of police and soldiers. Many amongst the great German people may
stand far before me; but _I also hate nothing more than the cowardice
and effeminacy of this day_. I must give an example of this. I must
proclaim myself against this laxity; and I know nothing nobler to
achieve than to strike down the arch-slave, and _great advocate of this
mercenary time, the corrupter and betrayer of my people--August von
Kotzebue!_

"Thou, my German People, exalt thyself, to a higher moral worth of
manhood; of the free spirit of man, and his creative strength! My
German People! thou hast no realler nor nobler possession; it is thy
highest good. Honour, guard this faith--this thy love to God. Let thy
sanctuary no more be trodden under foot.

"Man, be he born in the most miserable and abject condition, is created
to become an image of God. Rely on the promised Christian freedom.
Honour and trust only the free man. Detest the traitors, the slaves in
soul, the false teachers, who will not have this. Hate the dastardly
poets of half-measures, the preachers of cowardice, the hirelings who
hold thee back from every bold enterprise. Detest and murder all those
who lift themselves so high in their villanous and despotic fancies
that they forget the godlike in thee, and hold and drive thee, the mad
multitude, in their high-wise hands, as a complex wheel.

"Free conscience! free speech! Man shall solace himself at his own free
pleasure in the divine light, of which the fountain is in him. He shall
strive after the highest discoveries, and shall be able, unburdened by
those of others, to prove and build up his own convictions. But man
also shall verify these opinions; he shall live and act; he shall
exercise his divine creative power--his will, and shall make it
availing. It is for this that we have received the whole might of
will--not that we may suffer others to decide what they please
concerning us, as over a piece of a field, but that in every condition
of life we may determine for ourselves; and therein all virtue
demonstrates itself--that we, in every thing which concerns the people,
shall take a lively interest, and so act upon our own resolves, each as
we will, and not as another compels.

"_Finally, make free your wills!_

"This is the sole, purely human, this the necessary foundation for
every human society: this must be won for the German Empire! Only when
this sole and righteous condition is achieved, then only can be the
discussion on further undertakings.

"My German people! win self-dependence, and that lofty mind, which
already some of thy heroes have borne in them. This is the right,
hallowed spirit of life, that thou dost that which the sacred
Scriptures of Christendom and of antiquity teach--that which thy poets
sing; and admirest or regardest them not merely as empty fables.
Brother! proudly and courageously shalt thou win by high endeavour,
that highest and holiest object which thy soul can conceive--the
condition of a purified, and beatified manhood--


                      A Christ canst thou become.


"So learn, my People, the time in which, after long wandering, joy and
unity shall come back into this life. The Reformation, begun three
hundred years ago, sought to restore the life of our people after the
image of God. It is not yet completed! for yet continue compulsion of
conscience, servitude, tearing asunder of brothers in our country, and
no one can rejoice himself after a Christian and purely human form.
Brothers, break the ancient chains of the Popedom, the chains of
arbitrary rule! We Germans,--one empire and one church! Let the schism
betwixt spiritual and secular be annihilated! Faith, learning, and
action, shall unite themselves into one, and bloom anew in the
Christian enthusiasm of free German citizens.

"The Reformation must be completed! Brothers, abandon not one another
in the oppressions of the times. Sluggishness and treason blacken
history with the hand of slavery! You have it before you!

"Up! I show you the great day of freedom! Up, my people, bethink thee;
make thyself free!"


The writing of Sand "To the Burschenschaft in Jena," and the other "To
my Friends of the true German mind," were completed only a few days
before his setting out; and finally he composed also a so-called
"Sentence of Death against Kotzebue." He left behind, in his desk, a
statement of the debts which his parents should pay; and an order that
his books and other things should be sent home. He empowered a student,
to receive all current letters and money for him. He contracted for his
lodgings with his landlord for the ensuing half-year. To those who
asked whither he was going, he gave the double-meaning answer--"Home."
A letter was also found addressed to his parents, as follows:


   "_To Father, Mother, Brothers, Sisters, Brother-in-law, Teachers,
             and all Friends! True, eternally true souls!_

"Why still more aggravate your pain? I thought, and hesitated to write
to you on this business. Truly, if you received the intelligence of
what has occurred at once, might the bitter sorrow the easier and
quicker pass over; but the truth of affection would in that case be
wounded, and this great affliction can only be wholly conquered by our
emptying the whole cup of wo at once, and thus keeping faithful to our
friend the true, the eternal Father in heaven. So from the shut-up
bosom, forth thou long, great pang of the last speech; plain dealing
can alone soften the agony of parting. This sheet brings to you the
last greeting of the son and the brother! Much and continually have I
talked and wished, it is now time that I left dreaming, and the trouble
of my Fatherland impels me to action. This is unquestionably the
highest misery in this earth-life, if the affairs of God, through
guilt, come to a dead pause in their lively developement; this is for
us the most overwhelming disgrace, if all that beauty and good which
would have been boldly pursued by thousands and on whose account
thousands have joyfully offered themselves up, as dream-shapes, without
abiding consequence, now sinks away into dark discontent; if the
reformation of the old life, now in its half-way advance, stand
petrified. Our grandchildren would have to bewail this neglect. The
commencement of the restoration of German life was made with spirits
animated by God, within the last twenty years, and especially in
that hallowed season 1813. The paternal house is shaken to the
foundations--forwards! let us raise it again, fresh and beautiful, a
true temple of God, as our hearts long after it. They are but a few who
oppose themselves as a dam against the stream of the evolutions of the
higher humanity in the German people; why then do whole hosts bow
themselves again under the yoke of these knaves? shall our once awaked
salvation perish again? Many of the most abandoned traitors play their
game without obstruction, with us, to the complete corruption of our
people. Among these, Kotzebue is the subtlest and most malicious; the
actual tool and mouthpiece of every thing base in our time, and his
voice is exactly fitted to beguile us Germans of all bitterness and
opposition to the most unrighteous usurpations, and to lull us into the
old indolent slumber. He practises daily arch-treason against the
Fatherland, and then stands there, protected by his hypocritical
speeches, and artful flatteries, and wrapped in the mantle of a great
political reputation, spite of his wickedness, as an idol for the half
of Germany, which blinded by him, willingly imbibes the poison which,
for Russian pay, he prepares for them in his daily publications. Will
not the greatest disaster befall us? Will not the history of our day be
blackened with everlasting shame? He must perish! I say continually if
any saving influence is to arise, we must not shrink from strife and
toil; the true freedom of the German people then only awakes in us,
when challenged and dared by the brave,--when the son of the Fatherland
in the contest for the right and for the highest good, casts all other
love? behind him, and loves death alone.

"That this may be, who shall rush upon this pitiful fellow, upon this
hireling traitor, Kotzebue? In anguish and bitter tears turned to the
Almighty, have I waited a long time for the appearance of one who would
step before me, and release me, not fitted for murder, would release me
from my pain, and leave me to proceed on the pleasant path that I have
chosen. Spite of all my prayers, no one has appeared, and each has as
good a right as myself to wait for another. Delay makes our condition
continually worse and more pitiable; and who shall absolve us from the
shame, if Kotzebue leave German ground unpunished, and shall enjoy in
Russia a fortune acquired by his treason? Who shall help and save us
out of this unhappy condition, if every one, and I in my province first
of all, feels not the call to maintain justice, and to do what ought to
be done for German Fatherland? So then boldly forward! I will assault
him with a heart confident in God to strike down the calumniator and
betrayer of our brethren--the horrible traitor! that he may cease from
turning us from God and history, and plotting to deliver us into the
hands of the cunningest enemy. Solemn duty compels me to it. Since I
have discovered what a lofty prize our people have in the present time
to wrestle for--and that he is the cowardly false villain that would
prevent their destiny--it is become for me, as for every German who
regards the well-being of the whole, a rigorous _Must!_ May I direct
the eyes of all active and public-spirited men, to where danger and
falsehood threaten, and turn, in time, the fear of all, and the
vigorous youth to the right point, that they may save the common
Fatherland, Germany, the perpetually rent, the unworthy states-union,
from an imminent danger. May I scatter terror over the base and the
cowardly, and courage over the good! Writing and speaking effect
nothing--it is action alone that now creates union. May I, at least,
cast a brand into the present indifference, and rouse and augment the
flame of popular feeling, that glorious struggle for the affairs of God
amongst mankind, which burned in us in 1813--then were all my highest
and holiest wishes fulfilled! On this account, though startled out of
all lovely dreams of coming life, still am I calm, full of trust in
God; yea, happy, since I see the path sketched out for me through Night
and Death, by which I may pay back to my Fatherland all that I owe it.

"So farewell, you dear souls! This sudden parting falls heavily, and
your expectations and my wishes are probably disappointed; yet may this
have prepared us, and therefore now be our comfort--that what the
necessity of the Fatherland demands, is the first of all things to be
desired by us, and has always lived in me as the most inviolable
principle. You may hereafter say and think among yourselves--'Yet had
he through our sacrifices learnt to know the whole of life on this
earth, the joy there is in this human society; and he appeared to love
this land, and his chosen profession heartily.' Yes, so was it; so did
I under your affectionate guardianship. Through your countless
sacrifices and cares for me, are my land and life become so thoroughly
dear to me; you caused me to be introduced into the world of knowledge;
I have lived in the active pursuits of a free spirit; I have glanced
into history, and then turned back into my own mind in order to twine
myself up by the tendril of the spirit firmly to the pillar of faith in
the Eternal, and through the free inquiries of my understanding, to
acquire a clearer perception of myself and of the greatness of
surrounding things. I have cultivated the sciences in the usual course
with all my power, and reached thereby the position and capacity to
oversee the district of human knowledge, and have thereupon spoken out
my convictions with friends and other persons; have travelled the
country, to learn, to know men and their doings. As a preacher of the
gospel would I joyfully have spent this life, and in any possible
overthrow of our social customs and of knowledge, by the help of God,
would have discharged faithfully the duties of my office.

"But should all this have withheld me from warding off more imminent
danger from my country? Must not your unspeakable love for me directly
spur me on to set death at defiance for the common good and the object
of all our endeavours? What numbers of the modern Greeks have already
fallen, to liberate their people from the scourge of the Turks, and are
yet dead without having effected any visible consequence, without any
prospect of it; and hundreds of them also amongst us, preparing
themselves by education, suffer not their courage to sink, but are
immediately ready again to offer _their_ lives for the good of their
country, and would I not die for mine? And will not we, to whom the
salvation and the working out of the highest blessings are so near and
dear, will we do nothing to that end? And do I mistake your love, or
would I wantonly sport with it? Believe it not. What should arm me for
death, if not alone the love to you and the Fatherland, which impels me
thus to testify it to you.

"Mother, thou wilt say,--Why have I brought up a son to maturity, whom
I loved, and who loved me; for whom I have striven with a thousand
cares and continual anxiety; who through my prayers became inspired
with the love of goodness, and from whom I fondly hoped in the last
days of my weary pilgrimage to experience repose and filial love? Why
forsakes he me now? Dear mother! might not the fosterer of another also
thus lament, if he went forth for his Fatherland? If no other will do
that, where will the Fatherland be? But certainly thou complainest not
thus, but thinkest on these things too justly. Complain not, noble
woman! Once already have I received thy call, and if no one now would
step forward for the good cause, wouldst thou thyself send me forth to
the contest. Still two brothers, and two sisters, all true and noble,
have I before me--they remain to you--I follow my duty! The young ones
will step into my place, they will be true to their country--they also
are your children. In the world have we troubles, but in God we are
able to overcome them like Christ. Oh that we may enjoy his peace in
full measure! Forsaken on the solitary way which I tread alone, I have
no dependence but upon the Eternal Father: in him, however, grasp I
courage and strength to conquer the last terror, and to accomplish my
solemn deed. I commend you to his protection and comfort. May he lift
you to that joy which misfortunes are not able to disturb. Forget then
the loss in the enduring joy in Him, and regard not my tears so much as
the love which exists between us, and never can perish. Advance still
farther for your country, and conduct your little ones--to whom so
gladly would I have become the guiding friend--without delay, up into
the mighty mountains, and let them there, upon that sublime altar in
the midst of the Fatherland, dedicate themselves and swear, never to
rest nor to lay down the sword till the Brethren are united in freedom,
till all Germany as one people, and with one constitution for the whole
empire, great before God and mighty against their neighbours, is knit
into one complete whole!

"With joyful look turned toward Thee, Eternal God, stands my
Fatherland! Blessed be the great host of the German people ready armed
for the battle, who, recognising the high privilege to be allowed to
promote the cause of a pure humanity, thy image upon earth, stands
courageously resolved, and amongst those may I see them in whose love I
shall glory till my end.


           "Salvation lies--highest and solely in the sword;
            Press then the spear into the patriot heart,
            And make a way for freedom!

                                                      "Karl Sand."


On the 19th of March, as already stated, he suddenly quitted Jena
without taking any leave of the people of the house. His travelling
dress consisted of a black German coat, with red cloth waistcoat, black
cloth trousers, laced boots, and a black velvet cap with a front. Over
his dress he wore on the way, for the most part, a blue carter's frock.
Amongst other things was found in his pocket, Körner's "Lyre and
Sword," in which many lines were under-drawn with single, and others
with double scores; as for instance in the poem "Through,"--


                  What wins this long delaying?
                    The strong with fearless tread--
                  The act alone, onstaying,
                    Crushes the serpent's head.


And his favourite quotation from the poem "Call to Arms," "Salvation
lies," etc. as given above. So prepared, Sand left the university city
of Jena. His journey towards Mannheim was by no means hurried, but
extended itself to fourteen days. He had read in the papers that
Kotzebue would not set out for Russia till the spring, and the anxiety
respecting the consequences of the deed produced procrastination, and
occasioned him again an unceasing self-struggle. From Erfurt he
travelled to Frankfort with two merchants, and when they came to
Eisenach he persuaded his two companions to take their dinner on the
Wartburg. On this occasion he is said to have asserted--"Here have
sacred words been spoken, and from this place will yet go forth much
good." He also wrote there in in the Stamm-book for the students, these
words:--"What wilt the old nightcaps (humdrums, dreamy but inactive
people) do for you? Depend upon yourselves, and build up to God an
altar in your own hearts."--Then his favourite quotation from Körner.

From Frankfort he went on to Darmstadt; where, as in the places already
mentioned, he lodged with his kind friends. In Darmstadt he remained
some days. He states that he had not been quite well, and had given
himself up to his reflections. One of his friends accompanied him a
part of the way thence, and at Sand's request, cut off his long hair,
which attracted attention on the road. He arrived at Lorsch, and
intended to have gone from there to Wurms; but his reluctance to his
enterprise became so great, that he determined on the following day to
advance at once upon the danger. He now read once more the Gospel of
St. John, which he carried with him in separate sheets, and Körner's
poem "Through."

On the 23d of March he arrived in Mannheim, at half-past nine in the
morning, and went to the Vineyard hotel. There he breakfasted without
the host's perceiving any agitation of mind in him, and about eleven
o'clock was conducted by a waiter of the inn to the house of Kotzebue.
He then went back, on pretence of tying a handkerchief round his neck,
as he found it too cold with open breast. Again arrived at Kotzebue's
residence, he caused the waiter to retire, and announced himself
through the maid who opened the door, as a gentleman from Mietau.
Kotzebue, however, was not at home, and he was requested to call again
at five in the evening. He therefore took a walk to the Rhine, and
inquired where lay the wood of Neckerau, and its distance, and at one
o'clock returned to the inn. He conducted himself during dinner with
great equanimity, ate moderately, and drank a choppin[7] of wine. His
companions at table were two clergymen from the Upper Rhine country,
with whom he conversed partly on topics of general history, and partly
on the Reformation and Luther. He stayed with the company till towards
five o'clock, and then said that he must yet pay a visit to Kotzebue.
This time he met his victim. He announced himself, and was shown into a
room on the right hand of which lay Kotzebue's study, separated only
from it by a small cabinet, while the nursery and the sitting-room of
the family lay on its left side. On the proceedings in this room Sand
himself observed,--"The servant spent some minutes in going about in
the room or speaking; he then called me in, but still continued
standing in the doorway, and spoke in a low voice towards the interior
of the room. I was finally admitted, and Kotzebue stepped into the room
from the door on the left hand. I saw him appear at the half-open door,
and then enter as the door was quite open. I went about six steps
forward into the room and greeted him. He stepped somewhat nearer to
the door, and I then turned myself towards him on the side of the
entrance.[8] The most fearful thing to me was that I must dissemble. I
said that I had a desire to call on him as I travelled through the
place, and, after some pro and con, I added,--'I pride myself'--which
Kotzebue probably interpreted otherwise than as I meant,--then drew I
the dagger, and continued--'not in thee! Here, thou traitor to the
Fatherland!' and with the last word I struck him down.

"I named myself Henry from Mietau, since I believed that Kotzebue would
not admit me if I announced myself a native German. It was much more
probable under the name of a Courlander; and Kotzebue actually
said--'You are from Mietau?'

"How many blows I gave him I cannot say: as little, which was the
first. It was quickly done. I drew the dagger out of the left sleeve,
where I had secured it in a sheath, and gave him several stabs in the
left side. Kotzebue spoke not a word during the attack, only uttered a
cry of alarm, the instant that he saw me rush upon him with uplifted
arm. He stretched out his hands, and fell immediately at the entrance
of the room on the left hand, about three steps from the same. How I
should have wounded him in the face I know not. Probably it may have
happened through his holding his hands and arms before him, and moving
them about. I held the dagger so that the edge was above the thumb and
the fist, and struck directly out, neither from above nor from below.
Kotzebue fell together in a sitting posture. I then looked him in the
face to see how it was with him. I wished to ascertain the effect of
the attack, and a second time looked him in the face. He continually
winked with his eyelids, so that one could now see the whites of his
eyes, and now nothing. I therefore concluded that he was not dead; but
I interfered no further with him, because I was persuaded that enough
had been done."

Sand having completed his act, turned towards the window in order to
regain his old standing place, but that turn produced a deciding
influence on his fate. "I saw," said he, "in turning round, a little
child, which during the deed had sprung into the room from the
left-hand door. Its cry produced in me such a mingled feeling that I
was instantly determined to recompense it for the injury I had done it
by stabbing myself with the small sword. The blow struck on the left
breast, and went several inches deep. I drew forth the steel, and the
effect was an instant gush of blood, which I perceived as I descended
the stairs became, with the pain, more perceptible."

The cry of anguish of the victim under the hands of his murderer,
brought in a few seconds thither the family and inmates of the house;
but the horrible spectacle must naturally so violently have affected
them, that they scarcely retained a clear remembrance of the first
moments which followed the discovery. According to Sand's own account,
as they bore Kotzebue into the next room, the wild outcry and deep
alarm sunk by degrees; the whole room as well as the open-standing door
was left vacant, and he had time to descend the steps and reach the
outer door. When, however, he came there, he found already many other
persons collected by the outcry, and must then have despaired of
his escape, and therefore sought to secure the publication of his
"Death-Blow." His original intention, that of sticking it up somewhere
with the small dagger, was prevented by his having let it fall during
the action, and he therefore took the paper from his pocket, and
delivered it to the servant, who was then rushing out of the house to
call the watch, saying, "There, take that!" Then cried Sand with a loud
voice, to the people who had run together,--"Live for ever, my German
Fatherland, and we amongst the German people, who strive to advance the
condition of a pure humanity!"

He then kneeled down, and said in a low voice,--"I thank Thee, God, for
thy victory;" prayed, placed with both hands the small sword against
his breast, and drove it directly and deliberately into it till it
stood fast; then withdrew his hands and fell forward on his right side.
The people who hurried to the spot, found him lying in his blood, drew
forth the dagger, and washed the wound with vinegar. In the mean time
the watch and the police had arrived, and the murderer under the usual
guard was carried on a handbarrow to the hospital.

Kotzebue died in the arms of his daughter. It was probably the first
blow, which, piercing the pericardium and the artery of the lungs,
caused his speedy death.

Sand, on the day following the murder was in a greatly excited state.
His features changed rapidly, his eyes now gloomy and wildly rolling,
now soft and swimming with tears. His wounds were cicatrized in about a
fortnight, but an internal extravasation of blood ensuing, made the
opening of the cavity of the chest necessary, which the then Professor
Chelius from Heidelberg performed. Sand submitted himself quietly to
the operation, and afterwards begged the surgeon to excuse him for some
exclamations of pain during the operation. His behaviour during his
whole imprisonment was praiseworthy. His frame of mind appeared calm
and quiet, and he seemed to wait his fate with resignation. Only twice,
in particular, was he seen to break out into passionate weeping; once,
as he was conveyed from the hospital to the House of Correction, and
the second time, as a letter from his parents was read to him, in which
they gave him their blessing; but he sought anxiously to hide these
tears, as evidences of weakness. He repented his attempt at self
murder, as a cowardly act, and followed the prescriptions of his
physician with regularity. He was thus soon so far restored that the
trial could take place.

This was entered into with all possible gentleness; and he experienced
generally throughout it a mild treatment. A visit which his mother and
brother offered to make him he declined, on the ground of sparing to
all parties the pain of such a parting.

The trial for the murder went on quickly at first, but afterwards
became more complicated, on account of the documents which were found
amongst Sand's papers, concerning the Burschenschaft and such matters.
These occasioned an especial commission to be named, which put itself
in communication with commissions afterwards named at Weimar,
Darmstadt, and Giessen, and subsequently with the Ministry of Police at
Berlin, so far as their inquiries might have an influence or throw any
light on Sand's act. From the report of these inquiries we have drawn
the preceding notices of his life, and it may yet be permitted us to
say a few words on the force of some actuating causes which could lead
so excellent a character, as Sand otherwise was, to such a deed.

Sand's early youth fell in a time when all Germany breathed hatred to
its oppressors. From this source he drew the most glowing antipathy to
the French, and enthusiasm for his native country. Traits of
fanaticism, and a certain touch of religious enthusiasm, all must have
remarked in him who have read the foregoing pages, and a degree of
vanity which drove him to distinguish himself from the common herd by
something peculiar. Thus he subscribed himself, as a genuine German,
instead of Karl Ludwig, "Kerl Chlodowig," in the ancient style, and
afterwards he used the signature, "German Brother of Fichtelberge."
Then he made himself conspicuous in Tübingen by a very singular dress.
His desire, however, to serve his country remained ungratified, and he
returned from his campaign as so many others, casting his glance
forward, to see whether Germany, which had purchased its external peace
through so much bloodshed, possessed internal peace and deserved
happiness. At the same time, his proneness to mysticism was undeniable.
In his speculations upon religion, morals, constitutions of states and
laws, one finds many contradictions. Thus, he regarded the Divine laws
not so much positive commands as monitory precepts, by which man,
according to his conviction, can regulate his conduct. When he, whose
favourite reading was the Bible and the writings of Thomas à Kempis,
yet felt a certain disbelief in the revealed religion, it was truly a
great inconsistency to desire that an immediate revelation from above
should be made to himself. Thus, he says amongst other things:--"He
prayed to God daily for knowledge and enlightenment. If he, through
divine revelation, could learn that his act was wrong, he would repent
it every hour; but hitherto nothing of the kind has happened." "My own
conviction," said he, "is my law. I act right whenever I follow it. It
guides me better than divine or human precepts." According to these
principles he would only acknowledge laws except in so far as they
seemed reasonable to him. Above all things displeased him, the division
of Germany into separate states,--he would have one Germany and one
church; but when he demanded--not for himself alone, but for the whole
people--this freedom of thought and will, he was in contradiction to
himself again, since he would, to a certain degree, force this reform
upon all, in opposition to his conceived freedom; nay, held it as
allowable, to take out of the way, with the dagger, whoever placed
himself as an enemy in the path of this reform; yes, and called upon
the people also to do the same. And this he did, without sufficiently
understanding the laws and circumstances of his Fatherland, as appears
by his declaration. It is to be supposed that the spirit which formerly
actuated the Burschenschaft, had an influence upon the developement of
his ideas; but it is false, when it is asserted that the Burschenschaft
was privy to his deed, or approved it. Sand had misunderstood some
doctrines of Schelling's philosophy, and had fitted these
misconceptions into his system, as well as many others which he had
drawn from the lectures of his teachers, especially those of the
historian Luden. All his teachers praised his restless diligence,
without ascribing to him either particular talent or great strength of
judgment. He entangled himself in a system of sophistry which he
regarded as the firmest truth. When a man frequently pronounces any
thing to be true, he comes at last to believe it so, however contrary
it be to common sense. Thus Sand over-estimated the evil influence
which Kotzebue exercised through his writings, without making himself
sufficiently acquainted with these writings. Thus he imagined that the
governments were not strong enough to repress this nuisance; and that
the writers who contended against Kotzebue were powerless against this,
literary tyrant. He therefore believed himself called to take the enemy
of truth out of the way. He communicated his resolution to no one, and
was so convinced of the meritorious nature of his action--which he,
moreover, justified by his maxim, the "end hallows the means"--that to
his last moment he never repented of it. For the rest, he endeavoured
with all his power, to shield others from the evil consequences that
might have reached them from his action, and therefore, when for their
advantage he stated many things that were not true, he is on that
account to be judged leniently. All these circumstances were well
weighed by his judges, as ground of excuse so far as they might
contribute to the mitigation of his punishment. Sand's counsel on the
trial was the Licentiate Rüttger. The final judgment of the court
condemned him to death with the sword. This judgment of the 5th of May
was confirmed by the Grand Duke on the 12th, and arrived at Mannheim on
the 17th of the same month.

At this latter period, the health of the culprit had so much improved
that, according to the official medical report, he was in a condition
to rise from his bed with help of his attendants, to continue some
hours up, and to take his meals sitting in his room.

On the morning of the 17th of May, at half-past ten o'clock, the
sentence of death was formally read to Sand, in the presence of two
officers of the court, whereupon, permission being allowed, he dictated
the following protocol:--"This hour, and the honourable judges with the
final decision, were welcome. He would fortify himself in the strength
of his God; since he had often and clearly made known his opinion, that
amongst all mortal sorrows, none could so much afflict him as to live
on without being able to serve the Fatherland, and the highest aims of
humanity. He died willingly, since he could no longer work in love for
the Idea--since he could no longer be free. So approached he the
portals of eternity, with a glad mind, and with the most thorough
internal conviction, which he had always entertained, that the true
good upon earth can only come forth from the strife of conflicting
passions, and that he who will work for the highest and divine, must be
a leader and a member of a party. He cherished the hope through his
death, to satisfy those whom he hated and who hated him; and again, to
content those with whom he agreed in opinion, and in whose love
consisted his earthly happiness. Death was welcome to him, since he yet
felt the strength in him necessary, by the help of God, to enable him
to die like a man."

The 20th of May was appointed for the execution, and till this period
the governor of the House of Correction was instructed to admit all
proper persons that the prisoner might desire to see, especially the
Protestant ministers, and to comply with all reasonable wishes of the
condemned.

Sand displayed the same fortitude as on the publication of the sentence
of death. He made the request that day, that it might be ordered that
no clergyman should attend him to the place of execution, and gave as
his reason, that the attendance of criminals to the place of doom, was
a degradation of the clerical order and of religion. That religion must
lie in the heart, and could not, especially amid such a tumult, proceed
from external things. As all the representatives, even of the clergy
present, could not alter his opinions on this point, it was conceded,
and his request allowed.

At five o'clock of the morning of the 20th, Sand was placed in a low
open chaise, within the court of the Bridewell, the door being still
closed. He was attended by the superintendent of the prison, at his own
request, that he might help to support him, particularly in mounting
the scaffold. Two other masters of the House of Correction were ordered
to keep near the carriage. Sand was clad in a dark-green great-coat,
linen trousers, and laced boots, without any covering on his head. The
carriage in which he sat, as well as the one following with the
officers of justice, was surrounded by the officials of the House of
Correction, and the squadron of cavalry ordered for the occasion. The
train proceeded to a meadow lying a little without the city gate, in
which the scaffold was erected, and which was guarded by a detachment
of infantry.

The government deemed these precautions necessary in order to frustrate
any attempt at liberation of the prisoner on the part of the students.
In fact, it is yet often related, that a great number of the Burschen
rode, in the early morning, from Heidelberg, well provided with swords
and fire-arms, with the intent to snatch Sand out of the hands of
justice; that the keeping secret the day fixed for the execution, had
made it impossible for them to obtain sufficiently early intelligence;
and that in consequence, though riding the whole way at the highest
speed, they arrived too late on the spot, where, cursing their evil
star, they discharged their pistols into the ground. The whole story,
however, is a fable, and it is certain, that by the wiser, and probably
the greater part of the Burschenschaft, even as little as by the rest
of the public, was Sand's murder-deed approved; and if at the moment he
was generally pitied, and it was wished that a better fate had awaited
him, yet none but a few political fanatics could pronounce the
punishment unjust.

Sand was lifted out of the carriage, and mounted the scaffold and
mounted the scaffold himself, supported by the arms of the two
Bridewell masters. Arrived upon it, he turned himself round towards the
crowd, then threw the handkerchief, which he held in his hand, forcibly
down, with rolling eyes; lifted his hand on high, as if he swore an
oath, turned his eyes towards heaven, and then caused himself to be led
to the chair of execution, where at his particular request, he remained
standing till the preparations of the execution were completed. The
sentence of death was thereupon read with a loud voice by the actuary,
and then the hands and body of the delinquent fast bound to the pillar.
As the executioner bound his hands, Sand said to him in a low voice,
"Don't bind me too fast, or it will hurt me." After his eyes were bound
the sentence was completed, his head being severed from his body at one
blow, and hung only by a part of the skin, which was immediately
divided by the sword.

The whole passed over with the greatest order, and with the deepest
silence of the spectators, except that at the moment of the fatal blow,
was heard exclamations of pity. Many students and other spectators
rushed to the scaffold, in order to dip their handkerchiefs in Sand's
blood, or to cut small pieces of wood from the scaffold as mementos.

Sand had addressed through the whole time nothing to the public. A
short time before his execution, he was heard alone to speak as to
himself,--"God give me in my death much gladness--it is completed--I
die in the mercy of my God!"

He died with much fortitude and presence of mind, at half-past five
o'clock. His corpse with the severed head was soon after laid in the
prepared coffin, and this was immediately nailed up. The military then
guarded the remains back to the House of Correction; and on the
following night at eleven o'clock they were buried in the cemetery of
the Lutheran church near the House of Correction.

Kotzebue's dwelling, and the chamber where the murder was committed,
are yet shown in Mannheim; and it is said that the spots of blood on
the wall have continually reappeared in spite of being many times
painted over.

The scaffold, according to custom, became the perquisite of the
executioner, who came from Heidelberg. The stranger may observe a small
garden-house which was built out of this material, as he goes towards
the Bierhälter-hof, by the way of "The Three Troughs," as it is called.
To this house for some years, the Burschenschaft were accustomed to go
on the anniversary of Sand's execution, in procession, and there with
singing, and probably an oration, paid their respect to his memory.
Even those who did not approve of murder as a mere political reform,
yet were glad that Kotzebue was out of the way, and pitied and even
honoured Sand as a devoted and high-minded, though misguided martyr to
their cause.

If the act of Sand, perpetrated upon a man who neither in public nor in
private life enjoyed its respect, excited in the public mind so much
just displeasure, how much more must that have been the case on the
villanous attack upon the life of one whom so many social virtues
adorned. The attempt to murder Ibell, the President of the First
Chamber of Nassau, in the following year, by the fanatic Löning,
increased the consternation of the rulers and the credibility of the
charge that Germany, and especially its rising generation, was seized
with a revolutionary dizziness. It appeared clear that the spirit which
had formerly arisen from the salvation of the governments, had now
taken a decided tendency to their destruction; and instead therefore of
attempting to conciliate by liberal concessions, necessity commanded
towards it a system of vigorous repression. The congress of sovereigns
assembled at Aix-la-Chapelle in 1818, had already turned its attention
to the critical state of feeling in Germany. Whilst France had become
so quiet that the Congress ordered its evacuation by the army of
occupation, Germany became a new subject of anxiety. It was Sand's mad
murder-deed which first made this manifest, and produced this reaction
on the part of the governments. In August, 1819, many German ministers
and diplomatists met on this subject at Karlsbad. The excellent
Karlsbad resolutions, which were framed at this meeting, were on the
20th of September of the same year, published by the Confederation of
States, as the Confederation Resolutions. These, in order to prevent
the aberrations of the youth, ordained a strict oversight over both
teachers and learners in this respect, and that a government inspector
extraordinary should be appointed to every university to observe the
teachers, and to restrain the scholars within the bounds of discipline
and order.

The Karlsbad resolutions in reference to unions, and especially the
Burschenschaft, say:--"The long existing laws against both secret and
unauthorized unions in the universities, shall be maintained in their
greatest force and stringency, and particularly shall be the more
vigorously exercised towards the union instituted within these few
years, under the name of a universal Burschenschaft: as at the
foundation of this union lies the totally inadmissible presupposition
of a lasting association and correspondence between the different
universities. The government inspectors shall make it a duty to
exercise an especial watchfulness in regard to this point. The
governments are agreed upon this, that individuals who, after the
publication of these resolutions, shall be found to have remained
members of such secret or unauthorized unions, or shall have entered
into such, shall not be permitted to hold any public office." Thus, the
act of Sand, as is uniformly the case with wild and fanatical deeds of
violence, had the very contrary effect to that which he purposed, and
instead of serving and establishing the Burschenschaft, hastened its
public denouncement and suppression. In all the German states, the
freedom of the press was, moreover, abolished, so that in no German
state could a manuscript be submitted to the press without censorship.
Finally, also, a central commission of inquiry was established in
Maintz for the finding out of all demagogical schemes. The Prussian
government in particular went to work with pre-eminent energy and
vigour, and, by its persecution of many distinguished men, forfeited a
portion of that public respect which it had acquired through its
strenuous exertions for the liberation of Germany from the French, and
through other popular endeavours.

The repose of Germany during the political storms which in the
following years shook foreign countries, at length put an end to the
government alarms from demagogical agitations. The political
inquisitions and persecutions ceased by degrees; the punishment
suspended over the erring, became so much the milder as fewer
aberrations, in consequence of the established regulations, arose to
demand the care of the administrations. If therefore the impulse which
the German spirit had acquired in the Liberation War had caused it to
rush over its appropriate limits, the German nature yet returned
speedily to its inherent morality and propriety; and by its unshakable
loyalty to its hereditary princes, and relations, verified that old
praise,--that in Germany good morals have more power than elsewhere
good laws.

                               *   *   *

At the breaking up of the Burschenschaft at Jena, the 26th of November,
1819, the following song was sung; which we therefore give as one of
the most celebrated.


                         WE BUILDED OURSELVES.

                  We builded ourselves a house,
                    Stately and fair,
                  And there in God confided,
                    Spite tempest, storm, and care.

                  We lived there so trustful,
                    So friendly, so free,
                  'Twas hateful to the wicked
                    Such honest men to see!

                  They wronged us, they charged us
                    With treason and shame,
                  They strove our fair young Freedom
                    To curse and to defame.

                  What God laid upon us
                    Was misunderstood;
                  Our unity excited
                    Mistrust e'en in the good.

                  They brand it as sinful--
                    They cheat themselves sore--
                  The form it may be broken;
                    The love lives evermore.

                  The form has been broken,
                    The ruins lie low;
                  Yet what they have discovered
                    Is merely smoke and show.

                  Our riband is severed,
                    Of black, red, and gold,
                  Yet God has it permitted;
                    Who can his will unfold!

                  Then let the house perish!
                    What matters its fall?
                  The soul lives yet within us,
                    And God's the strength of all!




                               CHAPTER VI.

       CEREMONIAL INTRODUCTIONS TO UNIVERSITY AND BURSCHEN LIFE.

                  Great need hath man of brother man
                  To reach his noblest aim;
                  He moves but in the general plan.

                  Fly then the wolf-bewasted strand,
                  And knit life's strong and social band.

                                                      _Schiller_.


The youth of Germany has awoke out of the dreams of Burschenschaft
freedom; and the sounding rush of steam-engines will probably not
permit them easily to fall again into this giddy trance. The bond of an
universal Burschenschaft no longer embraces the whole body of German
students, but the professors of every political as well as religious
creed move amongst each other in manifold circles. Like _ignes fatui_
flicker here and there yet, Burschenschaft ideas, but their flame has
seldom strength to burn, and soon expires again for want of fuel,
which, in fact, is diligently withdrawn: still has its flame, ever and
anon, in recent times, hoisted on the mountain tops, streamed up a
lightening fire-pillar of Freedom; but the rulers of Germany have
speedily smothered it, anxiously watching lest the political fabric
raised with so much toil, should become, with all its stockwork and
timbers, a prey to the devouring element. They have also taken care
that the youth shall not, forgetting his original duty, fall into this
labyrinth. During his period of study, only too often is he reminded by
the everpresent sense of the government examination, that he is a
citizen of a German state. Is it to be feared, that we have fallen into
the opposite extreme; that the zeal for the political and literary
freedom of Germans is extinguished; and that a stupid and creeping
slavery has taken its place? No, thank God, we are not yet come so far
as that. A striking testimony of this, is the sentiment which just
recently has made itself felt as the common spirit of Germany against
France, glowing with the enthusiasm of former years, and to which that
new Rhine song of Bekker--"They shall not have it!"--owes its origin.
So far as regards academical freedom, it is not to be denied that in
some states an overstrained severity of government examinations of
students begins to display a mischievous influence.[9] The young man
having this image of terror perpetually before his eyes, prosecutes his
studies in a manufacturing style, which crushes every freer, fresher
aspiration after human improvement. Yet one comes back to one's self by
this means, from that abortive condition of a false and overdriven
anxiety for the common good; and, on the other hand, the governments
were wise enough to perceive, that the freedom of the universities
could not be too much circumscribed without damage to the pursuit of
knowledge itself; for this freedom is universally recognised as the
ground on which an active pursuit of science most flourishes.
Experience has sufficiently proved this: those universities which
possess that freedom in the most perfect degree, having always stood
the highest in academical reputation. All mal-practices have been
properly put down; many things have been necessarily held to be illegal
because of their connexion with other things, and which yet have been
tolerated, and thus in this middle way have the best results been
arrived at. Strip the universities of all their privileges, and they
will fall, together with the schools, to the ground, and no longer
furnish so fine a bridge to the service of the state. Especially
necessary to their free condition appears to be the possession of their
own court of judicature, which has the peculiarity of leaving a wide
scope of discretion to the judges; since it might be very unjust to
punish a student, were it ever so slightly, who enjoys so much more
freedom than a citizen, precisely according to the laws of the schools,
as a citizen who is so little permitted to step over the laws is
punished by the laws which relate to him. Germany may be proud of the
constitution of its High Schools, and must feel grateful to the
governments for this protection of academical freedom, as it is bound
to be for its political constitutions, through which a beneficent and
honourable freedom is secured.

Much complaint has in former years been made, that the young people who
were just come from the schools, hurried on by Chore life and their
companions, become so engulfed in a whirlpool of dissipation, that
during the first half-year, or even the whole year, they never
perfectly recover themselves from this course of wild pleasure. This
destructive and so much dreaded course, and a certain constraining
influence supposed to proceed from the unions, and which uniting itself
with the fascination of _Renommirend_, or playing off, determined _Die
Neulinge_, newlings or freshmen, to enter into such unions, were made
grounds for putting down such unions all over Germany; as if Chores
were necessary to such a time-killing career of dissipation. Others
have insisted that the newlings must be compelled, by stronger
regulations and a certain school restraint, to a more diligent
attendance of the lectures and of their private studies.

Apart from the question whether one may and can compel a young man of
that age to unceasing application, it may be further asked, whether,
after all, this half-year spent in the free enjoyment of life must be
an actual loss, and to be reckoned an absolute deduction from the
amount of study? By no means. Truly, if study consisted in learning a
mass of facts by rote, then might we reasonably reckon literary and
scientific acquisitions by days. But let any one reflect how a youth
comes from school. There he had a daily task, which he completed as a
more or less industrious day-labourer does his. He had also favourite
occupations and favourite studies besides, but entirely apart, which he
pursued as pleasant recreations, which had nothing in common with the
tedious school labours. Not that there are no exceptions to the rule,
but thus it is commonly. The time now approaches that he must undergo a
rigorous _Abiturienten-examen_, or final examination, before the doors
of the High School will open to admit him; an examination which he puts
out all his strength during the last half-year to pass, as he sees with
transport the university years presenting themselves before him.
Suddenly he becomes a wavering skiff, abandoned by its experienced
pilot, to drive forth into the midst of the agitated sea of university
life. His whole existence must from this time forward tend to one
ultimate object, of which he is not himself yet clearly conscious; even
his recreations and pleasures shall only serve every day to accomplish
him, or to give him new strength for toil. His intellectual labours
shall henceforth bear the stamp of knowledge; but the transition is so
sudden, the space in which he has to move is so vast compared with the
narrow bounds which have hitherto circumscribed him! His sight must
sharpen itself, that rapidly making himself master of the manifold
objects that surround him, he may reduce them to one regular scale, and
so magically diminish them as to inclose them in his own bosom. And to
this labour, which appears to him gigantic, he comes exhausted by the
exertions of the time just past, wearied out with all the old school
business. He exerts himself to comprehend that world of novelties, but
sinks finally overwhelmed by their oppressive greatness, and probably
exclaims with the scholar in Faust,--


                  All is confused, a stunning pain,
                  As whirled a mill-wheel in my brain.


Despairing of science, he throws himself into the arms of pleasure. He
drinks with full draught from the cup of joy, and finds himself with
exultation again conscious of his youthful strength. Full of proud and
lofty feeling, he now rushes forward in the new and open path, often
bursting through all bounds. This is called the lost time. But it is
not lost. If the man is not to be overwhelmed by the excess of external
influence, if he is to be borne through all without loss of his
independence, he requires in the mean time such a period of rest; in
which, from an undisturbed point of view, he can look back into the
past; can there weigh what he has so far accomplished; can look
forward, and acquire a clear consciousness of his future purposes, and
can gather strength for the necessary enterprise. Thus, in the
transition from the school to the university, this introductory
laziness is a necessary crisis for the majority, in order to shake off
the old school dust, and to awake to a new existence. That very
dissipation must throw the youth back upon knowledge. He has now
learnt, out of the multitude of things, to choose and appropriate
those which befit himself, his character, and designs; he has
learnt to maintain his independence in the midst of the in-streaming
outer-world; and, finally, by association with so many companions who,
though equally with himself gay of heart and enjoying life, are still
happily prosecuting the acquisition of knowledge, he has arrived at
higher views of life, and of individual study. He is now first ripe for
the university.

We have in other places spoken of the advantage which a young man
derives from associate life with so many others. He who desires to rule
or to exercise an influence over men, must first learn to live amongst
many. He who studies a science will not perpetually confine himself to
one work, though it be that of a most celebrated master, but will
compare as many as possible, that amongst all their theories he may
select that which most meets his approbation, or may create a new one
for himself. Of the numbers, moreover, who find themselves at a High
School, if some lose sight of their true object, and sink in the slough
of sensuality, yet the far greater portion pursue the path of knowledge
with zeal, and push forward on the direct course, though they may
occasionally diverge into the smiling and blooming fields that lie
right and left, to gather odorous nosegays to bear with them on their
earnest track. Every one of these wanderers has his individual theory
of life, of morals, of religion, and of every department of science and
literature; and it betrays a self-punishing conceit, when an individual
regards his own views as so exalted that they need no comparison with
those of others, and when he can learn nothing from this intercourse.
Youth seizes upon every thing so freshly and with such force, and
endeavours to defend it against the encroachments of strangers. Shall a
young man only educate himself under the instructions of experienced
teachers? Certainly not. He must live amongst those who will hereafter
be his fellow-labourers in life. But as the age exerts an undeniable
influence on the greatest men that it produces, and even, when in other
respects they shoot forth far beyond their time, binds them fast to the
time with the strong bonds of prospects and prejudices; so also place
operates materially on men through the influences which are bound upon
the place.

The ton which predominates in a High School leaves not its scholars
untouched, or that ton could not otherwise perpetuate and firmly
maintain itself there. But this ton is the product of many
contingencies, and pervades every thing which comes in contact with it.
We noticed the ton which distinguishes the university of Heidelberg
when speaking of its advantages. This has always been the same; and
those of Jena and Leipsic have been described, according to their
individuality, at an earlier period by Zachariæ. In his comic-heroic
poem, as Goethe himself has testified, every man will read with
pleasure how his Renommist was conquered by the love of the gallant
city of Leipsic:--


      My song the hero sings, whom courage, sword and fighting
      Made terrible in Jena, in Leipsic quite exciting;
      Who oft whole hosts assaulted when his wrath was hot,
      As hero out of Jena went, but in Leipsic conquered not.


We have also a drawing of four universities of Germany, of about the
year 1730, which was intended to indicate their peculiar
characteristics at that period. In this drawing one sees first a
student of Leipsic, a young gentleman very delicately and smartly
dressed, who is turning as towards a maiden, and saying
daintily,--"Dulcimene, thou hast made me quite in love with thee." Near
him stands one from Halle--and let the reader call to mind that August
Hermann Franken's[10] death had occurred about three years before that
time--he is dressed in black; he speaks with depressed heart, and
glancing at the former students, sighs forth, "Him will God chastise;"
which at that period truly, here and there, many a so-called
Waisenhausler--Orphan-Houser--out of an extravagant and fiery zeal, and
on the principle of a false devotion, had continually in their mouths.
To him succeeds a gay student of Jena in uniform, with huge cocked hat,
and very imposing mustachios, high jack boots with pounded spurs. He
grasps his duelling sword fiercely, and exclaims wrathfully, "The
thunder shall blast him that dares an insult." At last, and completing
the group, stands a Wirtemberger, with a full cup of the winking kukkuk
(cuckoo)--that is Wirtemberg beer--with winking eyes singing, and
dancing on one leg--ex pleno poculo.

We have already stated in what manner a newling is received as an
academic burger, or is matriculated. This matriculation in the early
and ruder times was preceded by a very peculiar ceremony, which was
called the deposition. This deposition during the first half of the
seventeenth century extended over the majority of the German
universities, Catholic as well as Protestant. From the description
which Arnold has given in the Appendix to the History of the High
School of Königsberg, extracted from the dissertation "de Ritu
Depositionis" of M. Sehme, we learn the following particulars. In the
university where the deposition was customary, the newly-arrived
student, the so-called "Branen," or Bacchant, announced himself to the
dean of the philosophical faculty, and prayed that he might, through
the deposition, be received amongst the number of the students. When
the Branen or Bacchants amounted to a certain number, the dean
appointed a day in which to celebrate the deposition, and summoned
besides the Branen, the depositor with his instruments, and an
amanuensis. They appeared on the appointed day before the dean. The
depositor in the first place put on a harlequin dress, caused the
Branen to attire themselves in the same style, and put on them other
ludicrous articles of costume, especially hats or caps with horns, and
distributed amongst them the instruments with which the deposition
should be executed; coarse wooden combs, shears, augers, axes,
hatchets, planes, saws, razors, looking-glasses, stools, and so forth.
When now the Branen were properly equipped, the depositor marshalled
them in rank and file, placed himself at their head, and conducted them
to the hall where the deposition should be performed, and there
addressed a speech to the dean and the spectators, who consisted of
students. The depositor commenced the deposition by striking the Branen
with a bag filled with sand or bran, and compelling them to scamper
about with all manner of laughable gestures and duckings in order to
escape the strokes of the sand-bag. He then propounded to them certain
questions or riddles, and they who did not answer them quickly and
well, received so many strokes with the sandbag, that tears often
started from their eyes. When this trial by question and riddle was
finished, then must the Branen give up the instruments which they had
hitherto held in their hands, and lie down on the ground in such a
manner that their heads nearly touched each other. The depositor then
planed their shoulders as they thus lay, filed their nails, pretended
to bore through and saw off their feet, hewed every limb of their
bodies into shape, cleaned their ears, knocked off their goats horns,
and tore out of their mouth with a pair of great tongs, the satyr's
teeth stuck in for the purpose. After the Bacchants were thus properly
hewn, planed, unhorned, and unfanged, they were caused to seat
themselves each on a stool with only one leg. The depositor put on them
a dirty napkin, soaped them with brickdust, or with shoe-blacking, and
shaved them so sharply with a wooden razor, that the tears often
started from their eyes. The combing with the wooden combs was equally
rugged, with which in some places the depositor commenced, and, on the
contrary, in others ended. Their hair, after the combing, was sprinkled
with shavings. After all these operations the depositor drove them out
of the hall where these scenes had taken place with his sand-bag, took
off his grotesque attire, put on his proper costume, and commanded the
Branen to do the same. This being done the depositor reconducted them
to the hall which they had just quitted, commended the young people in
a short Latin speech to the dean, and prayed in their name for a
certificate of the deposition. The dean answered in a Latin speech,
declared the ground and intention of the custom of the deposition, and
added all kinds of admonitions. Finally, the dean gave to each of them
as a symbol of wisdom a few grains of salt to taste, scattered in sign
of joy some drops of wine over their heads, and handed to them the
certificate of the accomplished deposition.

From this rude custom, which here and there expired in the beginning of
the eighteenth century, is derived the circumstance that a new student,
still, before he can be matriculated, must take out his certificate of
deposition. In Altorf, the deposition was enacted for the last time so
late as 1753, and was, in fact, to oblige a gentleman of high
consideration who brought his son to enter him of the university, and
wished to revive a lively remembrance of his own youth-time by seeing
the deposition of his son.

If, in past times, while manners were so rude, the teachers of the High
Schools could practise so barbarous a custom towards the freshmen, it
may well be supposed that the students did not conduct themselves
towards the Branen more gently. These had many hardships and
indignities to suffer at their hands; and, as was the case in many of
the schools in past times, must perform for them the lowest offices.
Lycurgus himself could not create for his laws a more implicit
obedience in his age, than the old Houses demanded from the new-comers,
who are now no longer denominated Branen, but Foxes. As already
observed, the name boot-fox was derived from this fact, that these
freshmen must black the boots for their more advanced comrades, the old
Houses of the Chores.

The freshman, or fox, is now bound to perform many little, but by no
means degrading or injurious services. He must conduct himself
discreetly, may not mix forwardly in the conversation of the old
Houses, and his purse is laid under frequent requisitions. Amongst the
students who belong to no union, this is not so much the case, and is
restricted principally to this, that the fox conducts himself not too
assumingly, and now and then _ponirt_ something, that is--to give this
slang phrase by an English one--_pods down_ something; that is to say,
he gives an excursion or entertainment to them, a _Kneiperei_, or
occasion of social fellowship and enjoyment. This he can the better do,
as the superior experience of the older students in all the regulations
of University life, and in particular in the best laying out of his
course of study, are of the greatest service to him. In the aristocracy
of the Chores, this subordination is, indeed, more despotic. There is
quickly heard,--"Silence, fox! speak not when old bemossed heads are
speaking!"

We have mentioned the general services which the fox has to perform,
but he has also to suffer at the hands of terrible old Houses. There
comes perhaps, a bemossed head from a distant university, in a
shockingly broken down condition, something like the student in Hauff's
story, who travelled with Satan. Already known by his hero deeds, the
moment that he arrives he is received with a jubilee of acclamation.
"Würger! thou faithful old House! cry the sons of the Muses, and rush
down the steps into his arms. The smokers forget to lay down their long
pipes, the billiard-players still hold their cues in their hands. They
form a body-guard singularly armed, around the arriver."--_Hauff's
Memoirs of Satan_.

And now, scarcely has the old House made it understood that his
trousers are not the best in the world, or that his boots are no longer
waterproof, than it would be taken very ill indeed of a fox should he
hesitate to supply his wants to the very best of his power. He must
feel himself particularly honoured if he gets back the borrowed
garments in a month or two, just in sufficient condition to be able to
make a present of them to his shoe-black.

For a long time, a terrible swordsman belonged to one of the
universities, whose mother resided in the place, and was what the
students term a _Frass philister_, or eating philistine, or who in
other words kept an eating-house for the students, as is very common in
the university cities. Her table could promise very little
satisfaction, even to the least delicate and artistical stomachs; in
fact, it required a strong dose of active exercise before dinner to
enable its frequenters to make an attack upon it, and another as active
after dinner to conquer the dyspeptic symptoms that rapidly followed
her viands. Yet this table was always crowded. The unhappy foxes had
much rather try their teeth on the culinary productions of the mother,
than fall under the pitiless sword of the son.

The same worthy was also accustomed to borrow ball-dresses, as he by no
means approved of swelling the profits of tailors; and, at the end of
the season, sent them back to their right owner in a condition fit only
at the best to be forwarded to the Jew.

In earlier times, the foxes were expected by the old houses to write
out their college notes; and hence arose the anecdote, that one of the
most terrible of the old houses, observing a blot, which the poor
copyist, in utter fear, had made upon the paper, asked grimly, pointing
to it, "Is that _Douche_, fox?" To _douchiren_, or _touchiren_, is
equivalent in meaning to giving such an offence as will require a
challenge. _Douche_ is Indian ink, and perhaps it would be in vain to
inquire how Indian ink came to be a synonyme for a challengeable
insult; the horrified and innocent youth, however, who understood this
meaning, answered with precipitation, "Pardon me, it is ink." That is,
not _douche_, or Indian ink, nor any thing meant for offence.

When a fox forgets his part, he is, in their language, immediately sent
to rest. Thus it happened that an old Bursche, who probably had two
dozen college half-years on his back, at a Kneip, fell into a dispute
with a conceited fox. The fox finally felt himself insulted by various
expressions, and in student-phrase, gave him the _Dummer junge_--in
literal meaning, _stupid youth_, but in their language a challenge. The
old Bursche coolly replied, "_Stupid_ I may be, but I am not _young_."
A general laugh arose at this repartee, and the fox was so much pleased
with it, that he instantly recalled the challenge.

Another anecdote connected with the same custom, is this. A fox
suffered himself to become the bearer of a challenge; an office which,
according to Chore laws, by no means belonged to him, but to the
Chore-Bursche. He stepped, full of self-complacency on account of his
important commission, but yet with some anxiety, into the lodging of
the bemossed head, and spoke. "Watzman sends you a _Dummer junge_--a
_stupid youth_." "Yes, I see him," coolly answered the challenged,
glancing contemptuously over his shoulder at him, and proceeding with
his writing at his desk without condescending to give to the
dumbfounded fox another look.

The student receives different names, according to the duration of his
abode at college. While he yet vegetated in the gymnasium he was a
_Frosch_--a frog. In the vacation which lay between the time of his
quitting the gymnasium and entering the university, he chrysalized
himself into a mule, and on entering the university, he becomes a
_Kameel_--Camel. This happy transition-state of a few weeks gone by, he
comes forth finally, on entering a Chore, a _Fox_, and runs joyfully
into the new Burschen life. During the first _semester_, or half-year,
he is a gold fox, which means, that he has _foxes_, or rich gold in
plenty yet; or he is a _Crass-fuchs_, or fat fox, meaning that he yet
swells or puffs himself up with gold. In the second half-year he
becomes a _Brand-fuchs_, or fox with a brand, after the foxes of
Samson. The fox year is then over, and they wash the eyes of the
new-baked _Young Bursche_, since during the fox-year he was held to be
blind, the fox not being endued with reason. From Young Bursche he
advances next to Old Bursche, and then to Bemossed Head, the highest
state of honour to which man can attain.

As the student has given to these different periods of the Burschen
life different _termini technici_, so he has generally created new
words for so many new circumstances; for the same cogent reasons that
new Latin terms must be created for many modern things; and the
creations of the Bursche stand very little in excellence behind those
of the new Latinisms. We could readily furnish a small lexicon of those
terms, which, however, we may very well spare the reader, as he can
easily select such as please him out of the number of regular student
expressions which will occur in these pages. We will here give a few
examples from the learned dissertation of Herr Schluck, with his
sagacious and humorous explanations.

_Burschen-Comment_--The rule of life which every honorary Bursch must
follow. To live according to the _Burschen-Comment_, means to be bound
by the laws of neither God nor man, and to consider oneself as better
than all other men.

_1st Proof_.--Students are the sons of the Muses. The Muses are
goddesses. Gods and goddesses are bound by no laws; therefore neither
are their sons.

_2d Proof_.--It belongs to unlimited power to decide with the sword.
But the students decide with the sword, therefore have they unlimited
power. Unlimited power is one of the highest prerogatives. Princes
possess only the highest prerogatives; therefore the students are
princes. Princes are exalted above the law, so also are the students.
This sentence is perhaps, strengthened by the old song:--


                  Burschen are kings,
                  And the proof is here:
                  They drink all their mothers'
                  Pennies in beer.


which, however, were to prove, and not easily to prove, on which
account I doubt not that every one will perceive the force of the
reasons I have assigned.

They consider themselves better and greater than all other men. At
least they are firmly persuaded of it. But a firm persuasion is the
same thing as conviction. He who is convinced, speaks the truth;
therefore the students are better and greater than all other men.

_To make a Randal_, or to open a Randal, means to kick up a row.

_Schisser_, from the French word _chasse_, one struck in flight, whence
_Schasser_, or, in corrupt speech, _Scisser_, means a fearful and
barefooted man. Hence also comes the technical phrase "to be in
_Verschiss_," which indicates the most extreme condition of contempt.
He who is in _Verschiss_, is shut out of all respectable society, and
is compelled to go amongst the _Knoten_, or lowest of the low.

_Fuchs_, or _Fox_.--This name is derived from the cunning and slyness
of foxes, since these look about as slily and cunningly, and regard
every one as their enemy and assailant, till they are rendered tame by
necessity and habit. The term is not injurious as applied to a
Freshman, but is an insult to an old Bursche.

_Mucker_, _Stubensitzer_, _Kopfhänger_, _Kessel_, _Wurzel_,--_Saint_,
_Stay-at-Home_, _Head-hanger_, _Kettle_, _Root_.--These words are
nearly synonymous, and indicate a man who scarcely dares to breathe, or
to step over the door-sill; who from anxiety, or sanctimoniousness,
goes with his head hanging down, or sits as continually over his books
as a turkey-hen upon her eggs, or a kettle over the fire.

_Pflaster-treter_, _Pavement-treader_; _Quark_, _Curds_.--These
are names of the men who are natives of the city or its vicinity.
Pavement-treaders are those who were born on the ground and site of the
university, and therefore, from youth up, have trodden the very same
street-pavements. The pavement-treaders are also generally styled
_Patent-schissers_, since they must conduct themselves in all
propriety, being under the eyes of their parents; must go about in
gloves, and frocks, or untorn coats, and not smoke in the streets.
_Curds_ are so called because they come only a few miles from the city,
and to whom, therefore, their mothers, as their darlings, can send, if
they please, a dish of curds to their suppers.

_Kümmeltürk_.--Is a compound of _kümmel_ and _türk_, and denotes the
class of Braggadocios and Boasters, who, at the first onset, rush upon
the enemy with furious outcry and riot, but at the smallest show of
real danger leap back like Kummel, cumin-seed, which a person attempts
to mix with melted lard. This name also has the same meaning as
_Quark_, or Curds.

_Couche_, _Re-couche_, _Contre-couche_.--These are French terms, with
which silence is commanded; but as they are terms commonly used to
hounds, they stand properly amongst the verbal injuries.

_Dummer Junge_, _Stupid Youth_.--Is the highest and most cutting
insult, since it implies a denial of sound manly understanding and
strength of capacity of him to whom it is applied.

_Schuppen oder Rennen_.--To scale, as you'd scale a fish, or to
run--meaning that poking with the elbows, when two meet and neither
will give way. This is a real injury.

Dissertatio de Quomodone seu von den Burschen Comment edita ab
renommista rerum Bursicosarum experientissimo eodemque intrepido
horibilique Martiali Schluck.

                               *   *   *

If the newly arrived students are no longer subjected by their teachers
to such uncouth customs, as this deposition was, yet they are by no
means spared certain ceremonies by their fellow-students, if they wish
to lay claim to, and arrive by degrees at, the titles of honour
connected with the different degrees of standing in points of seniority
in university life. Yet these are neither so barbarous as the
deposition, nor is a single student compelled to take part in them.
They consist of some merry formalities, to which those who choose
submit themselves, and which, though solemn age may smile at them, may
be readily excused in happy and careless youth. To these belong the
_Fox-ride_; the burning of the incipient Brand-Foxes; and the drumming
in of the young Burschen, who then and there ripen, without further
trouble, into old Burschen.

The celebration of the initiation of the Foxes, Brand-Foxes, and Young
Burschen, takes place on one and the same evening, at a Commers
appointed for the purpose. This Commers is always fixed for one of the
special Kneip evenings, and the Chore to whom the Kneip-room belongs
presides on the occasion. The candidates for initiation announce their
intentions to this Chore; and the other Chores also assemble with it on
the appointed day. Their place of meeting is one of the most spacious
rooms used for such purposes, which is embellished as on other
Commerses, and moreover also, graced with the insignia of the presiding
Chore.

After the customary singing of _Der Landesvater_, the Land's-father,
the assembled throng disperses itself in a circle on tables and chairs
in order to greet the expected train. At the long table, at which they
are accustomed to drink beer at their Kneips, sit others, especially
those of the presiding Chore, and at their head the president, the
drawn sword lying before him. All the spectators are well provided
with beer and pipes, that they may be able to enjoy the spectacle the
more agreeably. The doors of the hall now open, and an old Bursche,
seated in a chair with its back before him, rides in. He is in while
leathern breeches and jack boots, and wears also the hat of a
postilion. He is commonly clad in a polonaise, and at his left side
hangs the postilion's horn; in his right hand he carries his sword.
Sometimes, as a variety, he rides in high gala dress, in frock
and huge shirt-collar,[11] and seated on an ass, carrying also his
highly-polished and glittering sword in his hand. With solemn
assumption of grotesquely well-acted dignity, he thus leads up the
procession of assembled Foxes, who, also in leathern breeches and
jack-boots, ride on chairs in the same style, after the Old House. The
moment that the leader of the train appears, the whole assembly breaks
out singing:--


                             THE FOX RIDE.

   The Chore--          What comes there from the height,
                        What comes there from the height,
                        What comes there from the leathern-a height,
                              Si sa! leathern-a height,
                        What comes there from the height!

   The Leader--         There comes a postilion;[12]
                        There comes a postilion;
                        There comes a leathern-a postilion--
                              Si, sa! postilion--
                        There comes a postilion.

   The Chore--          What brings the postilion?
                        What brings the postilion? etc. as above.

   Leader--             He bringeth us a Fox; etc.

   The Foxes Sing--     Good evening, gentlemen:
                        Good evening, gentlemen:
                        Good evening, noble gentlemen:
                        Good evening, gentlemen.

   Chore--              What doth the Herr Papa?
                        What doth the Herr Papa?
                        What doth the leathern-a Herr Papa?
                              Si, sa, Herr Papa--
                        What doth the Herr Papa?

   The Foxes--          He reads in Kikero;[13]
                        He reads in Kikero;
                        He reads in leathern-a Kikero--
                              Si, sa, Kikero--
                        He reads in Kikero.

   Chore--              What doth the Frau Mamma?
                        What doth the Frau Mamma?
                        What doth the leathern-a Frau Mamma?--
                              Si, sa, Frau Mamma--
                        What doth the Frau Mamma?

   The Foxes--          She mends the Father's hose; etc.

   Chore--              What doth the Mamsell S[oe]our?
                        What doth the Mamsell S[oe]our?
                        What doth the leathern-a Mamsell S[oe]our?
                              Si, sa, Mamsell S[oe]our?
                        What doth the Mamsell S[oe]our?

   The Foxes--          She cooks the Father's broth;
                        She cooks the Father's broth;
                        She cooks the Father's leathern-a broth;
                              Si, sa, leathern-a broth--
                        She cooks the Father's broth.

   Chore--              What doth the Monsieur Frere?
                        What doth the Monsieur Frere?
                        What doth the leathern-a Monsieur Frere?
                              Si, sa, Monsieur Frere--
                        What doth the Monsieur Frere?

   The Foxes--          He sits at home and oxt;[14]
                        He sits at home and oxt;
                        He sits at home and leathern-a oxt;
                              Si, sa, leathern-a oxt;
                        He sits at home and oxt.

   Chore--              And smokes the Fox tobac? etc.

   The Foxes--          A little, gentlemen;
                        A little, gentlemen;
                        A little, noble gentlemen--
                        A little, gentlemen.

   The Chore--          And doth the Fox drink beer? etc.

   The Foxes--          A little, gentlemen; etc. as above.


While this is singing, a pipe is handed to such of the Foxes as have
not come provided with this smoke-machine, that every one may give
proof of his ability. Glasses of beer are also assiduously handed to
the poor foxes, in order to accustom them to the noble juice of the
barley. The foxes in the end beginning to feel squeamish under the
accumulated powers of smoke and beer, sing forth in the same style the
sense of their uncomfortable feelings; on which the Chore, singing,
gives them good advice, and presently afterwards they acknowledge in
another stanza that they feel themselves better.

After the singing of all, or only some of the verses of this noble
song, according to the decision of the president, he gives the sign
that this ceremony is complete, and the new Foxes are perfectly
initiated.

Then instantly commences the initiation of the Brand-Foxes. These have
in the mean time made themselves fire-proof. They have put on great
wigs of tow, thoroughly saturated with water. The moment that they
appear in the hall, they are pursued by the assembled Burschen, who
stand with huge spills ready lighted in their hands. Here and there fly
the poor Foxes before their pursuers, who chase them like so many
fiends from below with the flaming spills, and without mercy strike
them over the head and face wherever it be possible. When the paper is
burnt out, the fury of the pursuers ceases also, and the Fat Foxes are
advanced to the rank of Brand-Foxes; a dignity which, in another
half-year, they will change for that of Young Burschen. Then follow the
ceremonies which they will at that time have to pass through, and which
they who are already Brand-Foxes now pass through. It is this. Each
Brand-Fox aspiring to _Pawk_, or drum, or fight himself into the rank
of Young Bursche, chooses an old Bursche, who while officiating on this
occasion is styled a Pawk-Bursche, and sitting down by his side, awaits
the proceeding of the Commers. The president determines what song shall
be sung; but he chooses one with numerous strophes. The following is
the one generally sung in Heidelberg:--


                          FREE IS THE BURSCH!

      Stosst an![15] Heidelberg live thou! Hurrah hoch!
      The Philistine to us most kindly leans;
      He sees in the Bursche what freedom means.
            Free is the Bursch!

      Stosst an! Black--red--gold.[16] live ye! Hurrah, hoch!
      He who guides the stars where on high they glow,
      'Tis he who our banner bears below.
            Free is the Bursch!

      Stosst an! Fatherland live thou! Hurrah, hoch!
      To our fathers' sacred customs be true,
      Yet think on our successors too.
            Free is the Bursch!

      Stosst an! Country's prince lives he! Hurrah, hoch!
      He hath promised to guard our ancient right!
      Therefore for him will we live and fight.
            Free is the Bursch!


      Stosst an! Woman's love! live it! Hurrah, hoch!
      Who honours not woman and woman's mind,
      To friend and freedom is ill inclined.
            Free is the Bursch!

      Stosst an! Man's strength! live it! Hurrah, hoch!
      He who can neither drink, love, nor sing,
      How scorneth the Bursche so mean a thing!
            Free is the Bursch!

      Stosst an! Free speech! live it! Hurrah, hoch!
      He who knows the truth yet dare it not speak,
      Despised for ever remain the sneak.
            Free is the Bursch!

      Stosst an! Bravery, live it! Hurrah, hoch!
      He who counts the cost ere the battle hour,
      Will basely stoop to the hand of power.
            Free is the Bursch!

      Stosst an! Burschen-weal, live thou! Hurrah, hoch!
      Till the world is consumed on the judgment-day,
      Be true, ye Burschen, and sing for aye--
            Free is the Bursch!

                               *   *   *

After the singing of every verse they _stossen an_, or meet glasses,
and whatever quantity of wine the _Pawk-Bursch_ drinks, be it a half or
a whole choppin, or even two choppin, the unhappy Brand-Fox must drink
as much. Wo to him that falls into the hands of a thorough toper, who
is inclined to run him hard. After the conclusion of these ceremonies
the _Commers_ is commonly held, so that many a young Bursche on
returning home is pretty much in the condition of the Austrian who had
been at a Bacchanal-party, and was seen, on its breaking up, by one of
his companions standing in the middle of the square in which his house
lay, with his house-door key in his hand, which he was swinging from
one side to another in an extraordinary manner. "What are you doing
there?" asked his friend. "Ah," said the man, "the houses are all
running round the square, like mad, and I'm waiting till the right one
comes. It has been here several times already, but somehow, it has
always escaped me."




                              CHAPTER VII.

                               THE DUEL.

                  Shall I for fame and freedom stand,
                    For Burschen-weal the sword lift free?
                  Quick blinks the steel in my right hand,
                    A friend will stand and second me.
                                                    _Crambambuli._


The duel is one of the few institutions of the Middle Ages which have
come down to our times. Club-law, shaken to its foundation by the
unceasing exertions of the German Emperors, must give way before a
pliant and cunningly calculating policy. We see only in the duel its
still surviving sparks, and this we see more commonly resorted to
amongst students, than amongst any other class, any other corporate
body; and, moreover, we find the German students making use of it to do
themselves justice more frequently than all others, and how can we
wonder at it? Where a great number of young men live a long time
together, there, ever and anon, will certainly disagreements arise.
This we see to be the case every where, and it must the oftener arise
amongst students, who, streaming from so many different places, with so
many different views of things, which early education has implanted in
each mind, many of them, moreover, placed high by birth, now find
themselves placed as it were on a level, that they may enter into the
necessary intercourse. "There is no love without strife," says an old
proverb, and accordingly this gathering together, this dividing and
coalescing into separate companies, which takes place more in the
German universities than in those of any other country, must inevitably
lead to more frequent disputes. Moreover, the free, developement of all
physical and intellectual powers, in which the German students
especially delight, must more easily occasion differences than is the
case amongst other classes of society; and therefore we find the duel
even more frequent amongst them than amongst the military class. But if
it enjoy a legal toleration in the military class, as being considered
to a certain degree necessary, we must admit that amongst students,
where it is punished by the laws, it wards off worse things, and as an
unavoidable evil could not be very easily or speedily annihilated.
Can we blame very severely rash and impetuous youth, which, in the
feeling of its strength fancies that it can fight out and achieve
any thing--which has not yet learnt to accommodate itself to the
notions of strangers and the opinions of others--if it betake itself to
other weapons than well-considered words and the discreet pen? And
regarded from this point of view, the duel appears an evil small in
comparison, and much to be preferred to the cudgel to which the
_Handwerksburschen_, the journeymen artisans, addict themselves; and
from which, we suppose, they have acquired the appellation of Knoten,
which is contemptuously given them--as people who, to settle their
quarrels, have recourse to a knotty stick--_Knotenstock_. It is very
rare that a student degrades himself by the use of the cudgel, and this
offence would be even more strongly punished by the laws, while it
would be visited by the students' own court of honour with the
_Verruf_, or Bann. Nor must we forget that in the interval between the
offence and the duel, time is afforded for a more quiet consideration
of the rashly-spoken words, and a possibility created for the
withdrawal of them. But the duel, has many times grown in such a
turbulent manner that it has required all the force of the laws to
repress the rage for combat, which often surpassed all conception. As
the tournay of the Middle Ages degenerated, so has this Middle Age
practice now lost much of its original signification; and far the
greater number of duels serve, not to terminate disputes between
individuals, but to afford an entertainment to the Chore, which is
rendered doubly attractive by the charm of danger. The origin of almost
every duel would prove the truth of what we have here said.

Little matters often conduct to great evils; and though we are disposed
to consider the duel, as ordinarily fought, no very great evil, yet the
causes out of which it springs are proportionably still less. Honour is
truly a thing which does not admit of much modification, or suffer much
tampering with; and what will not a strong phantasy see in any thing
with its microscopic vision? The delicate and exaggerating nature of
these qualities, reminds one in fact of the sportsman who happening to
put on a pair of spectacles of much greater magnifying power than
usual, suddenly fired off at a fly which passed before his eyes, taking
it for a partridge. Many a one vexes himself likewise when others are
pleased. He is not in good humour, and their satisfaction or equanimity
is an offence to him. A country fellow was angry with a traveller for
asking him whether the next village was far off, when its first houses
were only a few paces further on. He knew that; but he did not consider
that the stranger could not know it, and what was more, he had himself
been thinking neither of that village nor any other, but only that he
had just lost a lawsuit. In short, every one knows how it is accustomed
to happen in such affairs. A son of the Muses is in a bad humour, and
so any thing gives him occasion to call thee a _dummen jungen_; or he
sends to thee a _dummen jungen_, and the business is settled. The
conveyance of such a message is generally consigned to a student of
some standing, who knows how to conduct himself in such affairs.

We above all things counsel him who is no friend to the duel to banish
that little word "_dumm_," stupid, entirely out of his mouth; for if he
uses it to a student in the presence of another, the student, were he
his best friend, must challenge the user of the unlucky term to fight,
unless he recall the offensive expression. Every duel drops through,
where the challenger recalls his _dummen jungen_, and this he can do
with unblemished honour, if he has convinced himself that the other did
not insult him purposely. Yet no student is willing to do this
frequently, lest it might appear that he would cut a swell with
challenges, and yet has not really the courage to fight. Every duel
must be announced to the convention of seniors, which, if the affair
goes off in smoke, must see that the challenge is returned as null. In
earlier times the insulted party, that is, the person who heard the
above opprobrious name applied to him, sent immediately to the offender
a cartel-bearer, to inform him that after what had occurred, he must
fight him in this or that manner.


            Come I athwart a proud _Pomadenhengst_,[17]
            Who with full sails of stale and puffed-up pride
            Draweth me near--I tread upon his toe.
            Thereat he wonders;--I tread on it again;--
            Then grows he wroth:--"Hark ye," he cries, "was that
            Foot on purpose set there?"--"No, it was the heel,"
            "The heel--So? Nay, that find I very strange."
            Then add I--"Oh, do me this only favour--
            Find _nothing_ strange--_thou art a_ Dummer Junge!"


At the present day people spare themselves this trouble, and also hold
the time not so exact that the duel, as formerly, must come off within
three days. As we have before observed, the weapons with which all
student duels are fought belong to the Chores. An insulted party now,
therefore, addresses himself to one of the Chores--that to which he
belongs, or to which he has attached himself as a friend, though not a
member--and prays the use of these weapons. His request is granted; if
he be not a member he pays a certain sum for their use; and at
the time which is agreeable to him, the Chore sends a Bursche to the
_Chore-Kneipe_, where it is expected the challenger will be found, to
announce to him the appointed day and hour of the duel. It is not
necessary to name the place, as that is almost always the same, at
Heidelberg being the well-known _Hirsch-gasse_, or, in plain English,
Stag-lane. The students term this "to fix one." If this hour is
convenient to the challenger, who has thus been fixed or determined,
the Chore the same evening sends a Fox to the _Pawk-doctor_, a surgeon
who regularly attends all the duels.

In what manner the duel shall be fought, the insulted party need not
yet make known. Up to this point we know nothing more than that it is
to be fought with swords. The usual weapon amongst the students is a
long two-edged sword, with a basket hilt, round which the colours of
the Chore are wound. It is long and flexible, in order that the blade
may throw itself over that of the opponent when he parries, as the duel
is generally fought by cutting and not by thrusting. This sword runs
not to a point, but is, as it were, at the end cut square off. In some
few universities they fight in the Paris fashion, that is, by lunging
with the rapier, as in Würtzburg, Jena, and others. If the cause of
offence or injury is heavy, they resort to the crooked sabre, or to
pistols. In such cases, the person who gives the offence implying the
challenge, does not style the insulted party a _Dummen jungen_, but an
_Infamen_, an infamous fellow.

The crooked sabre is a dangerous weapon of great weight, resembling in
its curve and length the dragoon sabre, and occasions the deeper and
more dangerous wounds, in that the duellist having made his stroke
draws it back with full strength, and is thus in a condition to cut
through every thing which comes within the sweep of his curve. It
requires strength to use it well. Student with student only can make
use of the Schläger, or regular duelling sword. With those who are not
students he fights with the crooked sabre, or with pistols; with a
military man, with the straight sabre, which also is a dangerous
weapon.

By far the fewer number of duels spring out of actual insults or
injuries, or rather we should say, the student seldom fights because he
is insulted, but insults because he wishes to fight. Contests, on
account of actual and genuine insults, are generally amongst the
_Camels_, or those who do not belong to any Chore: seldom amongst the
Chore members. When these, however, become, on any occasion, very
hostile to each other, or have a particular desire to measure one
another's skill, this is always fought in the Single Round, of which
more anon. But that duels may not be wanting in which the Bursche may
set his bravery in its true light, a fine opportunity is afforded by
the so-called Allgemeinen, or general Kneips, which are held every
Friday. We shall farther on, come to these again.

When the Chores are here assembled, each _kneiping_ at its own table,
it requires but a trifling spark to put two Chores, who for some time
have already been in a state of electrical excitement, into thorough
fire and flame. A Bursche comes over from one table to another, listens
awhile quietly to what is here saying, but soon finds an opportunity to
quiz or ridicule this or that; to make himself merry over the weapons
of the Chore, or its last _Commers_. Like is compared with like: the
conversation grows continually warmer; more and more from the other
table keep coming over, and mix themselves in the strife. This becomes
momentarily hotter; finally, the senior himself comes over, and
challenges the other senior to a _Chore-hatze_. By this is understood a
regular duel between the whole of the two Chores, man with man. In a
similar manner a similar great contest springs out of the quarrel which
two individuals seek with each other out of _special malice_. When
these give the challenge at a general Kneip, then follows a general
challenging, the friends of both the parties following the example.


                  And challenges by scores are seen,
                  Because the wit is very keen.


The following persons are necessary to a duel, besides the two
duellists; two seconds, two witnesses, an umpire, and the surgeon. The
room in which the duels are fought at Heidelberg, is the well-known
room of an inn on the side of the Neckar opposite to the city, finely
located in the valley of the Hirsh-gasse. Thither see we the Sons of
the Muses often, betaking themselves in troops, to witness a contest
between two of their most famous swordsmen. When a duel is determined,
the room, or ball, as it is termed, must be secured for the appointed
day. The room is regularly hired for these purposes by the Convention
of the Chores, and its rent is defrayed out of the Chore-chest, as
before observed, where also it was remarked that the use of it and the
weapons is hired for particular occasions by the Camels. The Chore to
which the challenger belongs, or with which he has associated himself,
secures the hall by marking the Chore sign on the floor with chalk. By
this it acquires the right to occupy it for two duels, and must then,
if wanted, surrender it to another Chore.

"Solemnly," says Hauff, in the Memoirs of Satan, speaking of a duel,
"was each individual conducted into a chamber, his coat taken off, and
the Paukwicks, that is, the armour in which the duel is to be fought,
put on." Each duellist is, in fact, conducted into a chamber by his
witness and second, and clothed in the duel costume. Some trifling
changes take place in this from time to time, but it consists,
substantially, of the following pieces. A lesser and a greater cap,
according to circumstances hereafter noticed, and which can be made
tighter or looser, but which is generally worn loose, so that the blows
may take less effect. A tall cravat, which protects the throat, and
commonly reaches up to the nose, but this is put on in the hall
immediately before the fight commences. The binding of the arm is
particularly important, that it may afford it the greatest possible
protection, at the same time that it does not impede the action of the
wrist and elbow. For this purpose is used a fine leather glove, bound
round and secured to the wrist with a silken riband. This binding of
the glove must be very carefully performed, so as to defend the sinews
and arteries which abound here, as much as possible from injury. The
hand is protected by the basket-hilt of the sword. The duellist takes
the end of the riband which secures the glove in his hand until a
similar one has been passed round the elbow. The _stulp_, a thick and
well-quilted cover for the arm, made of silk, is then drawn on, fitted
down upon the glove, and being fastened there by the riband which also
secures the glove, and at the upper part of the arm by other ribands.
Another bandage, called the axillary knot, has frequently also been
brought under the shoulder to defend the axillary arteries from injury.
The last piece of the duel-costume consists of the paukhosen, or
duel-trousers. It is made of leather of uncommon thickness, and well
stuffed, and comes up so as to form a sort of cuirass, though without
iron, such as the soldiers of Columbus used to wear. High as it
reaches, it yet leaves a good part of the breast uncovered. It is laced
together behind by means of leathern thongs. A thicker glove is
fastened to the paukhosen behind for the left hand, or should the
duellist happen to be left-handed, for the right, to keep it out of the
way during the fight. Before the combatant was thus attired, he had not
only his coat, waistcoat, neckcloth and braces taken off, but his shirt
sleeve also slit up from the wrist to the shoulder, so as to give full
freedom to the action of the arm, on which account a duel-shirt is
frequently kept for the purpose, and put on before going to the place
of contest.

The whole of this duel-suit is calculated for a man of ordinary size,
and therefore little fellows often cut a very laughable figure in it.
They are more protected in it than larger persons, but at the same
time are more encumbered. The second clothes himself in similar
duel-trousers, and puts on a cap with a large front, or a hat, and the
large leather _stulp-glove_ covers his arm. The witness requires only a
leathern glove on one hand, to enable him, if the sword of the
combatant gets bent during the fight, to straighten it out again for
him.

When the two duellists are equipped, they are conducted into the hall,
and whilst the remaining particulars are adjusted, they walk up and
down, each supporting the arm which has to wield the sword on his
witness. The seconds now measure out the distance, and determine it by
two lines of chalk. Within these two lines the combatants must fight,
and behind which they are not allowed to retreat. If either of them
does this three times, he is dismissed from the contest with shame and
insult. The second of the person challenged has the right to choose the
umpire, the second of the challenger commands. Now first has the
challenger to declare in what manner he will fight; but till we have
said a few explanatory words, must the antagonists restrain their
impetuosity.

The different sorts of the duel progress, from the mildest to the most
severe, in this order:


     1. Twelve rounds with the great cap.
        (_a_) With a conclusive wound.
        (_b_) Without a conclusive wound.

     2. Twelve rounds with the small cap.
        (_a_) With, etc.  (_b_) Without, etc.

     3. Twenty-four rounds with the great cap.
        (_a_) With, etc.  (_b_) Without, etc.

     4. Twenty-four rounds with the small cap.
        (_a_) With, etc.  (_b_) Without, etc.

     5. One round with (_a_) (_b_)

     6. A round without cravat or bandage.


Before we proceed to the explanation of these terms, we may remark,
that the same rules apply to the crooked sabre, but if it be used, the
combatants generally fight what is called the single round, and that
duels with pistols are conducted in the different modes in which other
people fight those duels. The students commonly fire at twenty paces
distance; the exchange of shots takes place at the word of the
commanding second, and in such a manner that the antagonists can only
at the moment that the command reaches the final word "three!" catch
sight of each other. One exchange of shots is generally held
satisfactory.

By a round is understood the duration of a contest till one has planted
an unparried blow on his antagonist; it may be on his person or only on
his defensive paraphernalia: of such rounds twelve at least are made.
The small cap indicates the ordinary cap which the student wears; and
the large one, a cap with a very large front or shield. The theological
students fight in the large cap, since a scar in the face would amount
to a termination of their professional career, of which Hauff gives an
example, in the Memoirs of Satan, to which the reader may refer if his
curiosity so far prompts him.

The most customary duel is that with twenty-four rounds and the small
cap. Is it fought in the ordinary manner, that is, twenty-four rounds
with a conclusive wound? then the duel is ended when a blow falls which
is considered a conclusive one, namely, of two inches length, and
deep--according to student phrase--to cut through the two skins. The
duel of twenty-four rounds without conclusive wound proceeds thus. If a
considerable hit is made, the doctor must decide whether the duel can
proceed or not; in the latter case, the fight is continued, however, as
soon as the wounded party is sufficiently restored, which in the
twenty-four rounds with a conclusive stroke as observed, cannot happen.
In either kind of duel, however, it must terminate with the twenty-four
rounds, though neither has lost blood. In this case, both the
antagonists remain unconquered, and give their hands in reconciliation.
When a wound is given, which in its own nature or by the rules of the
duel proves decisive, the second of the wounded party puts an end to
the contest with the words "Remove him!" Distinguished swordsmen
generally fight the single round. In this case they fight for a quarter
of an hour. The umpire stands with his watch in his hand, marks the
pauses which are made for rest when the combatants become weary, and
counts them off from the actual time of fighting. So long a time as has
been consumed in resting, must the duel extend beyond the quarter. The
sixth and last mode consists in fighting without coat, waistcoat, and
cravat, and without the usual defensive costume. This, of course, is
the very worst species of all those which have been enumerated.

When all is ready for the duel, the two combatants confront each other.
The second stands at the left side of each, holding in his hand the
so-called _Secondir-Prügel_, or second's cudgel, a weapon consisting of
a strong rapier fixed into a basket-handle. The witness stands at the
right side. His business is to put in order again the duel costume of
the combatant when it becomes deranged, and to support his arm when it
is become weary. The umpire stands at some little distance, between the
two combatants, and before him is a chair, on which he marks the end of
each round with a chalk line, forming the one side of a square, so that
at the end of twelve rounds his marks have completed this figure....

[Illustration: Three overlapping squares]

At the end of the twenty-four, this....

[Illustration: Two sets of three overlapping squares]

The swords have been ground sharp in preparation, on the grindstone in
the court below. The spectators have assembled themselves. These can
only be students; and even these, if the combatants require it,
evacuate the hall. In that case the cry is made "All must quit the
place."

"We planted ourselves in the ancient attitude of combat; the swords
were crossed; the seconds cried 'loose!' and the swords whirred in the
air."--_Hauff's Memoirs of Satan_.

The commanding second cries--"Upon the measure." Both combatants step
forward upon the measure; the seconds station themselves at their
posts; the witnesses step back. "Bind the sword!" cry the seconds; the
combatants put themselves in attitude, crossing their weapons. The
seconds become more earnestly observant. "Loose!" they cry, and the
swords flash in the air. On the style of fighting we shall say what
need be said, below, under the head of the Fencing-school. We often see
two practised swordsmen long circling round within the measure,
watching keenly every movement of each other's eye, every turn of each
other's hand, while the seconds follow all their movements with the
same short and quick steps. Suddenly an unguarded part is espied, and
stroke upon stroke falls with lightning speed. Quickly a blow is
planted; the seconds dart between, and with the word "Halt," strikes
the swords aside. The moment this word is given, the combatant must
cease to strike: if he do not this, he has made an after-stroke, and
where this is done three times, the offender must quit the measure with
shame and contempt.

The second must be an expert swordsman, or he would not only run great
danger himself, but be unable to give to his combatant the necessary
protection. This office, as already stated, falls to the second
_Chargirter_. He must exert all his skill to protect his combatant as
much as possible, without holding his second-cudgel so as to prevent
the blows of the antagonist reaching him. He must take heed that the
opponent does not present his sword so horizontally that his combatant
in rushing forward shall run upon its point. We have stated that it is
a disgrace to the duellist if, before the round is ended, he goes
backwards off the measure. This the student calls to "nip," or to "nip
out," and says "he is nipped." A laughable circumstance of this kind
once took place in Göttingen.

A little Jew had a quarrel with a renowned Schläger, or duellist, of
great stature, who had maltreated the little Hebrew. When they stood
upon the measure, the little fellow who had never before entered this
arena, awaited with wrathful impatience the word "loose," and made a
spring in the moment, whereby he gave the opponent a tremendous
_quarte_ in the face, crying, "There, thou'st got something!" The tall
fellow, who expected nothing so sudden, was horribly enraged at this
inroad upon the honour of his swordsmanship, and so much the more as
every one laughed heartily at the droll occurrence. Spite of all
outcries and commands to "halt," the student pursued the Jew with
terrible strokes, so that he, unable to maintain his ground, stepped
continually backwards till he at length actually took refuge behind the
stove. The seconds were seized with such a paroxysm of laughter at this
scene, that they were unable sooner to run to the aid of the little
Jew, and then first placed themselves as a wall between the stove and
the enraged swordsman.

When a round is ended, the seconds and the witnesses, who come to their
aid, often contend the point, whether an after-blow was made or not,
whether one or other of the seconds forwarded, that is, exceeded his
duty in protecting his protégé to the prejudice of the opponent or not;
which last act, if often repeated, entitles the other second to demand
that he be dismissed from his post. But most frequently of all, the
dispute is, whether the blow took or not. All these points of dispute
have to be referred to the umpire, against whose decision there is no
appeal. When the single round is fought, the seconds do not stand at
the left side, but so that they make a cross with the duellers, as here
that frequent springing in between them is not necessary. So goes the
duel forward till terminated in one of the aforesaid ways. In the mean
time the doctor has, from the very commencement of the fight, had his
bandages in readiness, his needles threaded, and water set at hand,
prepared at a moment with a skilful hand to afford assistance to the
wounded.

The duel with swords is, as may be inferred from what we have
described, not very dangerous, and thus it proves itself, since from
the great number of duels which annually occur, so few serious
consequences follow. There are now students, who, during their career,
have fought from thirty to forty, and even sixty times, and yet have
come out of them all with a few slight wounds in the face. Yet tragical
consequences are by no means wanting. Noses and eyes are sometimes
lost, and even fatal terminations are now and then put to them.[18] The
wounded are nursed with great care by their companions; and those who
distinguish themselves with their weapons, speedily mount to the head
of their Chores. It is said that two brothers were such strong and
perfect swordsmen, that they disabled a whole Chore, with whom they
came into contention for further exercise of their weapons for the
whole half-year. The duels with the crooked sabre, are the most
frequently attended by unhappy results.

The duel is distinctly prohibited by the laws. The enactments of the
academical senate concerning it are as follows:--

1. If any one is slain in a duel, or is deadly wounded therein, or so
wounded that he finds himself in danger of his life; or that a lasting
disadvantage, through mutilation or internal injury, is occasioned him;
or if the duel has been with pistols, with the fleuret, or with the
crooked sabre; and even when the duel with pistols, with fleuret, or
with the crooked sabre, has not been completed, but only intended, the
affair can no longer be regarded as a mere violation of discipline, but
to be penalty treated, a trial constituted against the actors, and all
the aiders and abettors, before the university magistrate, and all the
minutes and evidence to be handed over for the decision of the civil
courts of justice.

2. Shall the duel with sword or crooked sabre have been followed by
none of the aforestated consequences, without making any further
distinction between the relative position of challenger and challenged,
both parties shall, under ordinary circumstances, suffer a punishment
of from four weeks incarceration to the enforcement of the _consilium
abeundi_. On account of more serious circumstances, in especial, on
account of a wilful seeking after contention, of gross insult, of
rejection to offers of reconciliation, neglect of the summons of a
surgeon, or of fighting the duel under unusually dangerous regulations,
shall, according to the circumstances of the case, punishment of a
higher kind be inflicted on one or both parties, as may appear right,
even to the extent of the sharp relegation.

In milder circumstances, and towards that party who shall have made
sufficient offers of reconciliation, or who has been injured or
insulted in a gross degree, the lighter penalty of imprisonment from
eight days to four weeks may be inflicted.

A duel is held to be perpetrated from the moment of its commencement.

3. Seconds and so-called umpires may pass without punishment, or
according to circumstances, may be imprisoned not exceeding eight days:
shall the duel, however, have been effectuated under unusually
dangerous circumstances, they shall be punished with greater severity,
even to the _consilium abeundi_. The witnesses, spectators,
cartel-bearers, or those in whose house the duel has been allowed to
take place, or who have contributed towards it by other means, shall be
imprisoned from eight to fourteen days.

4. Those who have been guilty of exciting others to fight a duel, shall
suffer the _consilium abeundi_, or in some aggravated cases the simple
or sharper relegation.

5. He who is aware of an appointed duel, shall make it immediately
known to the university magistrate whereupon those concerned in it will
be, without delay, confined to their houses, or, if circumstances
require it, be arrested.

6. After inquiry, reconcilement of the parties is to be attempted; but
if this cannot be effected, both parties must sign a declaration, with
which they must be satisfied. But in both cases must both parties give
their word of honour that they will fight no more during the remainder
of the term of their academical rights of citizenship, and sign the
protocol for that purpose presented by the magistrate of the
university. Whoever refuses to do this shall immediately receive the
_consilium abeundi_; and whoever afterwards breaks his word of honour
and again fights, shall be visited with the sharper relegation, also he
who fights with him.

7. Those students of medicine or surgery, who shall, at any time,
undertake the bandaging for a duel, shall, after the first bandaging
and performing of what was immediately necessary to the wounded,
instantly give information thereof to an authorized surgeon; and if
they fail to do this, they shall, according to the degree of danger of
the wounded, suffer a proportionate imprisonment; and if the case
warrant it, the _consilium abeundi_, or relegation.

8. The punishment for duels between students and persons of another
class, shall be regulated by the principles here laid down, unless
attended with contingencies of particular aggravation.

9. The beadles who have detected duels in the course of the year, and
he of them who through the discovery of appointed duels shall have
contributed the most to the prevention of the fighting of duels, shall
each, according to the evidences and degrees of zeal, receive a reward
of forty, sixty, or eighty gulden,[19] and the academical senate,
through the curator, shall determine the relative sum.

10. The weapons and other things necessary to a duel, which shall be
found upon the place chosen or appointed for a duel, shall be seized,
made useless, and so converted, as much as may be, to the benefit of
the university treasury.


                               *   *   *


The beadles strive with all diligence to entitle themselves to the
proffered reward; but, on the other hand, the students exert all their
ingenuity to defeat the vigilance of these Arguses. In their behalf
numerous persons are employed, who, through signs, give intelligence of
the approach of the beadles, or, as they are termed by the students,
Poodles. Amongst these, at Heidelberg, stands prominently forth the Red
Fisherman, distinguished for his Herculean strength, and an inventive
spirit not a whit inferior to that of Ulysses. That brown sunburnt
countenance, whose features announce a rude bravery--that red
hair--that solid build of limb--that mighty chest spread like the
breastwork of a battery, and which the wide out-lying shirt is too
proud to conceal, and the fantastic cap--the man is not a moment to be
mistaken. He belongs to those creatures of the students which are to be
found in every university city, and who, living by the students, are to
them indispensable. So the Red Fisherman renders the most important
services, both connected with the duels and otherwise. At night when
the Lumpen-bell[20] sounds, he makes the round of the _Kneips_, and if
he finds any of the sons of the Muses whose legs Bacchus has lamed, he
throws one over each shoulder, like two sacks, and hastens with them to
their lodgings. He is present at all Commerses and Comitates: like a
true hound he partakes of all the enjoyments of his lords, and grimly
defends them in their difficulties; as in the villages, where it often
happens at the holding of a Commers there, that through their exuberant
pranks they get into skirmishes with the peasants, who will assail them
in troops with tremendous cudgels, and are, when their blood is up, on
such occasions, merciless antagonists, beating, treading on, and even
stamping on the faces of those whom they have knocked down. The Red
Fisherman, in such emergencies, is another Ajax, and wresting their
weapons from them, lays prostrate hosts of Bauers before him with their
own cudgels. On all occasions he patiently bears the wanton whims and
insolent humours of his own lords in their barley-cornish hours. On the
other hand, the police treat him in trials and inquiries which come
before the magistrates with all possible lenity and forbearance, as by
his courage and skill in swimming he has already saved the lives of six
or eight persons.

When a duel is about to take place, the Red Fisherman is generally
posted on the Neckar-bridge, to give thence the first alarm signal. The
moment that he perceives the beadles hastening that way, he gives the
sign by a handkerchief, or in some other way, to a servant-girl, who is
stationed for that purpose below the Hirsch-gasse, and on receiving it,
hastens in and gives the alarm. The combatants are hastily stripped of
their duel dress, their own garments thrown on, the fighting apparatus
thrown into some place of concealment, and all fly out by windows and
doors, and plunge into the woods, where they return by a circuitous
route to the city. If the surprise is too sudden to allow the
_Pawkant_, or duellist, to divest himself of his inconvenient costume
he runs, in full battle-habit, to conceal himself as he is, in the
garret of the house, or in a neighbouring corn-field. The little
garden-house which stands just above, called by them Tusculum, has
afforded many a one shelter; indeed, at one time, two students
regularly hired it and lived in it, so that when the surprised
combatants ran in thither, they became only visiters, stepped in to see
their friends. The police, however, soon prohibited their abode there.

The beadle has little chance of approach by the open highway; but he
endeavours to cross the Neckar by a boat, at a distant spot, and so by
hidden footways over the hills, to come slily upon their rendezvous; or
he lounges as a Bauer or a sportsman through the neighbouring
vineyards; or he comes riding up as a gen-d'arme.


            But come the beadle however he will,
            The wit of the student's too much for him still.
            He may think himself certain to pounce on his game,
            But he's still more certain to fail in his aim.


One of the most common punishments of the duel is confinement in
the university prison; and a few words on the permitted fencing
usages may here precede a short account of that. There is one regular
fencing-master appointed in the university, who gives his instructions
at his own house. Every Chore has here its place of practice; that is,
a large room in the house of the fencing-master is hired by each Chore
at a fixed hour of the day, where they meet together and practise
fencing, the fencing-master often being present. Others who wish to
accomplish themselves in the art of fence, join themselves to these
Chore members, but it is forbidden to lunge, lest under the pretence of
fencing the duel may be concealed. Of the German mode of fencing there
is truly as little to say as if we should describe to any one how he
should waltz. The customary weapon, and whoever has wielded it knows
well the meaning of high and low, guard, quart, terz, high and low
quart, prim, second, and so forth. The German rapier fight is not so
ornamental as the French lunging with the fleuret. It requires greater
strength, and the movements are only in the wrist; for the rest, it may
be recommended to any one as a strengthening exercise. The rapier is
similar to the Schläger, but, of course, blunt; a thick leather stulp
covers the arm, and a mask the face. The German student, it is well
known, arrives at a great dexterity in this practice, as he
distinguishes himself in all bodily exercises of strength and
dexterity, and as the Burschenschaft members did in the more useful
gymnastic schools, where they often performed astonishing exploits. The
gymnastic schools, as the rendezvous of the Burschenschaft, are
unhappily cried down, and are thereby fallen completely into neglect.

It is an inspiriting sight to see able swordsmen contending with
powerful strokes in the fencing-school; and sometimes all seem mad
together, when a couple of the great dogs of the students having found
their way in, each rushes to assist his master with yells and merciless
bites. All in the room retreat to tables and chairs, and the wrath of
the hounds is then turned against each other. They take the place of
strife instead of their masters, who, in their individual ornature, in
all corners of the room stand guarding themselves with their swords.

The _Carcer_ is the prison of the students, and consists of three or
four rooms in the house of the Chief Beadle, immediately under the
roof. It is secured with iron grating, and contains as furniture only a
bed, a small table, and a wooden chair. These small chambers have
received different names from the students, as the Solitude, Bellevue,
Recreation, and the Hole. The last is the dark place into which the
nightly disturbers are thrust, that they may here, undisturbed and
undisturbing exercise their fancies till morning. They are under the
care of a beadle, who supplies the necessities of the prisoner. The
captive may not for the first few days quit his durance on any account.
Afterwards he may attend his college lectures, or he goes about during
the time that he ought to attend them, taking care to avoid meeting the
officers of police. He must also return to the prison at night. During
the days that he is in close confinement, he can entertain himself with
reading; he plays or drinks, smokes and chats with his acquaintance,
who are allowed to see him by an order from the Amtmann. His food he
procures from one of the regular eating-houses, by means of his
boot-fox. If all visits to him are prohibited, in accordance with the
severity of his sentence, and if he be not inclined to study, he lies
in bed and consoles himself with his pipe the greater part of the day,
which he finds far more agreeable than sitting in that hard and
uncomfortable chair. Thus we see, that this punishment is not
excessively cruel, though it has the property of promoting considerably
the transparency of the purse; since this agreeable lodging must be
paid for, and the services of the beadle during the day are nothing
near so responsive to love as to money, and for which, at all events,
he must pay a specified sum. In some universities, as in Giessen, the
incarceration is more rigorous. There, all visits and books are denied.
The prisoner is not allowed to leave the prison; and even the bedstead
is carried out in the morning, so that nothing is left to the poor
wretch the whole day but to pace his small apartment, or to sit on that
hard chair, and pour out his complaints to the four bare walls.
Certainly the stranger will not select a place where such barbarous
sentiments are retained, and refinement of mind has made so little
progress, for the scene of his university life, but will rather turn
his steps towards the more humane and polished _Ruperto-Carolo_[21] or
some similar university.




                             CHAPTER VIII.

          CHARACTERS CONNECTING THEMSELVES WITH STUDENT LIFE.


The appearance of the Red Fisherman in our last chapter has brought
before our mind's eye some other of the creatures of the students, to
whom we cannot better devote a brief chapter than in the present place.
These are the _Binsen-Bube_, the _Hofrath Dieh_, and the _Frau
Gottliebin_. And we would have the renowned Red Fisherman to
understand, that we mean not in bringing these personages into
connexion with his name to bring his dignity into question, nor for a
moment to place in comparison with him the two former of these
individuals, over whose heads he looks down from the clouds of fame.
The _Binsen-Bube_, or as he is also called, the _Blumen-Bube_, that is,
the Rush-boy, or the Flower-boy, will figure in another part of the
volume, and therefore must first stand forth the Herr Hofrath Diehl, or
in pure English, the Privy Counsellor Diehl, an individual on whom many
foreigners must have stumbled in Heidelberg.

This individual has served for some thirty years to amuse the rackety
young men by his original nonsense; and we lament to be obliged to say
that the students of a former time were not wholly guiltless of
originating the condition in which he now finds himself. He is a
melancholy example of a student scathed in his career; and who has,
from one unfortunate hour, sunk continually deeper and deeper into the
depths of misery and insignificance. What part he played as a student
we are not able precisely to state; but this must be certain, that he
never could have been enlightened by the sun of reason as men on the
average are, and now it is with him an everlasting eclipse. According
to the opinions of some, he must unluckily have been walking under a
great umbrella when reason was rained down from heaven. He thus early
became a plaything in the hands of men who were base enough to abuse
his simplicity. He received a forged letter, containing the
intelligence that he was appointed a privy counsellor of the Hesse
Darmstadt court, and the scoundrels who deceived him advised him to use
some peculiar kind of pomatum, which should give to his head a look of
official dignity. The upshot of this infamous business was that he lost
nearly all his hair by this application, and was brought back from
Darmstadt, whither he had gone to take possession of his office, to the
university a crazed man. From the consequences of this lamentable
history he has never recovered. His mind, weak before, has since
remained hopelessly confused. He has continued to occupy a small
chamber, where he employs himself busily in scheming and maturing plans
for the improvement of the world; for the maintenance of the European
balance of power; for the better pursuit of philosophy, and for
bringing it into a better connexion and alliance with other branches of
education; and in the discovery of an elixir of longevity. The results
of his profound meditations are laid down in vast masses of
manuscripts, which, alas! like the Journey from Stolpe to Danzig,[22]
have never been able to find a publisher. Yet they are by no means
useless to their author, if they are unappreciated by the world. He
employs them as mattrasses and pillows for his bed; and he busies
himself with scattering great quantities of water out of his window in
order to dissipate those heavy vapours which have prevented the
booksellers from perceiving what would be so greatly to their
advantage. During the day, this singular man traverses all the streets,
and goes round to all the Beer-kneips. With short and measured steps he
walks about clad in an old coat which he owes to the kindness of some
student. Now it is a polonaise, now a velvet frock, and anon it is a
mackintosh. He wears, like the student, a little cap, from below which
hangs his scanty and white hair. His countenance has a singular
expression of mixed pride and humility, of friendliness and melancholy;
and in his right hand he carries a light stick, in such a manner as if
every moment he was about to raise it in the act of demonstrating some
of his cosmopolitan propositions. This moment he picks up from the
street some worthless fragment, and even a bit of wood for his fire;
the next instant he whistles his little dog, a faithful companion to
which he is most fondly attached; and now he is greeting this person
and the other, with the words "How goes it, my friend, to-day, with
thee?" for he stands on the _Smollis_ with every body, that is,
he puts himself on the familiar footing of thee and thou; to another,
"Good-day, my dear son."

In the Kneips he seeks to attract attention by an harangue, or by his
remarks on the affairs of the day. He then waits with quietness till
the landlord, in requital for the drawing together of hearers, sets
before him a small refreshment, or till a compassionate guest treats
him to a choppin of beer, or presents him with a few kreutzers.
Formerly he had a stall in the half-yearly fair, where he sold partly
pins made by himself, and partly other wares, as knives and scissors,
and such like, at double the price at which the man at the next stall,
who furnished him with them, did. That our readers may have some idea
of the character and quality of the worthy privy counsellor's
compositions, of which he says he has at least eighteen thousand sheets
by him, we give a specimen which was written expressly for us, and
which the reader may or may not, just as he is disposed, try his teeth
upon. We have, however, no doubt but that those sagacious and
penetrating people who have put in the mouth of Jean Paul Richter so
many things which he never thought of, will also do our Hofrath the
same most obliging kindness, and wish right heartily that he may have
the good fortune to find at least one such commentator.

A Treatise, composed at Heidelberg the 29th of October, 1840; and
styled, a "Little Memorial and Gift of Friendship, from Friend von
Diehl, Grand-ducal Privy Counsellor of Baden, and State Counsellor of
the Mysteries of Heidelberg, to such of his friends as love the
so-called Strictly Right, out of which every thing reasonable by
degrees continually developes itself."


Now an author, who sees himself busy at his writing-table upon a
composition, has to give to them that, as an inoculation of every
thing, whatever it may be, which he has in his spirit consecrated to
all worthiness, and so that it shall not be difficult to hear and
understand, since it contains many incredible things. As he never in
his time was so far advanced that he could learn to understand so much
as he was striving after, as he was so poor, so very poor, therefore he
was obliged to thrust back every thing of that kind to the period when
finite things shall no longer be finite. It is to be desired that his
inquiries should be continued either by himself, or by others of the
student class who go forth as teachers, accompanied by the necessary
academical freedom, that is without all enactments and restraint. Let
the pen have its course, as his thoughts for the most part have
unfolded themselves, the spirit and the eye running through the right
hand, and his ideas thus walking forth upon paper. Spirit, eye, and
hand! hands pressed together! then draws the eye every thing so through
it, as the sucking babe draws milk, that it must burst forth in some
shape, as that milk in the babe, if obstructed in its natural current,
will spring through in eruptions. But the Princes should take care of
this, who have power, to advance the wise, so that they may be able to
live, that they may be safe from the claws of an old wife's company,
and may not be thrown about as feathers in the world, called also the
great city street,--that in the University cities those of the grade of
witches may not wash away all that belongs to the liberty of the duel
in general. Especially shines this out of the Bible, out of the
Testament--where the Dutch prescribe the gospels as well as the
epistles, like physic, that they may preach upon it as the Bauers to
their servants, when they have cleared out their stables, "You must
make a bee-hive; set about it, make it quickly with a dung-fork and the
handle of a flail." Preaching such nonsense do the Dutch divines wring
themselves out as an old woman wrings out a wet cloth, yielding only
that which men have no occasion for, and without which they would be
more of men than with it. Thus money and the necessaries of life are
continually decreased, or rather are rolled out thinly till they
overspread and cover up the spirit of man, as a surgeon spreads out his
plaster to the extent of two and twenty yards.

Two and twenty years have I laboured incessantly to defeat these drifts
of the old wives, for the good of all states, but the more I labour the
more enemies spring up. Still must I of necessity stand up for the
princes, since that dwells in me which man styles duty. During the half
of that two and twenty years, I have written treatises for the guidance
of students of jurisprudence and criminal law, adapted to all cases and
occasions, after which, however, no man inquires. Students diverge
continually farther and farther from my views of law, being influenced
by the city clergy, who warn them against them through means of the
post. I live in privacy with the great Director of the whole world; yet
have the malicious city old wife gossips calumniated me. And this led
them to the base action, for many a base deed is brought about through
medicaments. The most grievous evils not only arise but continue--I
will point out only a few of them. To injure a man in his eyesight
irreparably,--to damage his hearing,--to cause his hair to fall
off,--to induce epilepsy,--to make his very spirit stand still! Instead
of that office of important study to which I believe myself advanced,
thus came I to sit there where inexpressible pains are given, which
make every thing in man, that is of the nature of man, cry out. But the
hardest of all was to become a maniac! To keep off this, I wrote from
nine to ten thousand sheets, drawn from life itself, to throw out and
express the very kernel of knowledge, which must yet be printed. But I
am so poor, that I am always on the point of starvation; for many years
I have belted myself more tightly in. I lodge at Widow Ueberlin's on
the Freisenberg, who could, if she pleased, from the Great Frederick of
Prussia, turn herself into the Grand Turk himself. She was not,
however, aware of this; therefore, I assumed the crown of human misery,
and wrote this year six hundred and fifteen hefts (each about six
sheets of paper). Think only of the diligence in my dwelling!

It were well if a learned man in Baden would set himself upon a
winter's work, in writing out my manuscripts, in translating them, and
sending them to the press, and to make an extract for each faculty, of
such matter as relates to them. I am so poor that I am quite unable to
defray the cost of such printing.

I am the life--I have rent the great secret out of the bosom of Nature.
I am the sun, the love, the goodness, a secret that the common class of
men have to thank the learned for. From year to year I have continually
learned more thoroughly the contents of the surface of the earth. I am,
however, only allowed to divulge certain glimpses of this knowledge,
and I show it to true friends, wearing knowledge at my side, as the
soldier his sabre.

                              The true Friend Frederick von Diehl.


                               *   *   *


Poor Hofrath von Diehl! A more melancholy and affecting history than
his is not readily to be conceived; and amid the ravelled skein of his
ideas, the memory of his grievous wrongs stands clear and imperishable.
It would be difficult to refer to language more vividly descriptive of
the surprise and anguish, and despair, to which a human spirit may be
subjected by the base wantonness of others, than that which breaks
forth amid the strange wanderings of this document of his. The injured
eyesight and hearing--the hair burnt from his head as by lightning--the
shock of astonishment when he finds himself, instead of advanced to the
post of honour which had been delusively promised him, thrust "there
where inexpressible pains are inflicted; pains which make every thing
in man which is of the nature of man cry out;" a prey also to epilepsy,
and above all to madness. Poor fellow! yet amid the smarting sense of
his irreparable injuries he retains all his own humanity of feeling. He
cherishes no hatred against mankind. His heart is sound; that is not
injured, though his brain is; and he employs himself through the long
years of his mental eclipse, with the perpetual hope and endeavour to
benefit, not only his friends, his town, his countrymen, but all
mankind. It is well that the gallant student in the spring-days of
his career, while he runs on the green and gay path of Burschen-life,
is kind to him. That he makes daily amends to him, for the crimes
and follies of those in a day gone by. May the brave youths of
Ruperto-Carolo long cherish this kind feeling to the unfortunate
Hofrath! may they smoothen the few years of his earthly course to him!
While he lives in the dreams of literary fame and of boundless
philanthropy, may they blunt the tooth of that poverty of which he so
painfully complains; and, finally, may the brave hands of the sons of
the Muses, one day lay that weak but worthily-meaning head, on which
some of their precursors heaped wantonly such a fearful calamity,
peacefully and honourably at rest.


                               *   *   *


But amongst those who derive principally from the students their
support, we must not forget the respectable, discreet, and amiable
woman, who is to be found stationed every day at the corner of the
university platz. Here the worthy Frau Gottliebin displays her
treasures for sale,--cherries, grapes, plums, whatever fruit in fact
the season affords, and of the finest quality, separated into small
baskets-full. Every change of the season marks itself upon her stall by
the apparition of some new luxury, and at Easter it is gay with
many-coloured Easter-eggs for the children. In Germany, it is said,
"sixty kreutzers make also a gulden," and the wisdom of this proverb
has proved itself on this good woman. She not only possesses a small
house of her own, but her son has studied at the university, taken his
degree, and is already advanced to the dignity of a curate in the
church; yes, the worthy old dame yet hopes, and that soon, to be able
to congratulate him as pastor of a parish. Her daughter is married to a
surgeon in the Upper Rhineland, and when from time to time the stand of
the old lady is vacant, in front of the well-known Pfalz-hotel, nobody
is afraid that it is because she is ill, or because the weather is too
severe for her; for summer and winter, in the hottest sunshine and the
bitterest frost, there she is at her post,--no, there is a new
grandchild expected, and Frau Gottliebin has disappeared to pay a visit
to her daughter. She has numbered many of the present teachers of the
university amongst her customers, and takes a lively interest in the
members of the institution. She is also very free with well-meaning
advice when the course of life of any of the sons of the Muses is not
to her satisfaction. The stranger who has not tasted of her wares we
may well advise to cast an observant eye on her stall as he passes it,
and can promise him, if he chooses from it, a luxurious refreshment.




                              CHAPTER IX.

                    THE PRIVATE LIFE OF THE STUDENT.


The reader has hitherto only seen the students in their public life.
Their private life, in comparison with their public and out-of-door
proceedings, withdraws itself so much from general observation, that it
is not likely that it should so soon, or so forcibly, strike the
general eye, as that does by its bold and prominent features. Yet we
are confident that we can present to the reader many an interesting
picture if he will allow himself to accompany us into the lodging of
one of our heroes. "In God's name," Mrs. Trollope will exclaim, "what
are you going to do? Are you mad, that you would seek the bear in his
den?" We can, however, only beseech the foreigner not to be deterred by
the often wild exterior and carriage of the student, from paying a
visit to one or another of them. Without further hesitation or
precaution he may follow us, and make himself certain of a friendly
reception, especially from the South German. Should any one yet be
incredulous, let him only inquire of Mr. Traveller, who has now resided
half a year in Heidelberg, and made his first acquaintance with the
student-world in this manner. One of my friends told me that he had
introduced him to the student Freisleben. "In his smoking-room?" asked
I, in astonishment. "Yes; why not? The English," said he, "have strong
nerves, and I wished to fortify his against all weaker impressions, in
fact, to make him smoke-proof; an experiment which I hope even the
learned Mrs. Carleton herself would not disapprove of."

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

"We had scarcely made our escape out of the snow-storm of a wild
December day into the house, when the Englishman remarked that the
whole abode had a peculiar look, which he could not for his life
describe or particularize, but which had a strong smack of the student.
I had purposely brought him into a genuine student _kneip-house_, and
in the entrance, that white painted board on the wall, on which, with
their respective numbers, hung the keys of the different rooms, caught
his eye. The narrow passage and steps by which we made our way through
the house appeared strange to him. We at length reached the right door;
I opened it; the Englishman looked eagerly in; but imagine his
amazement as he saw nothing but a monstrous cloud of smoke. 'Where are
we?' he demanded. An instant yell thundered through the smoke towards
us--a whip whistled in the air, and a tremendous voice cried, 'Down!
down!' 'We shall get no good here,' said the Englander. 'Courage,
courage,' said I, and we pressed forward into the midst of this
smoke-vomiting volcano. In the meantime a portion of the reek had made
its escape by the open door; it became tolerably light, and we saw the
great spaniel, who had withdrawn himself howling into his basket, and
friend Freisleben standing with his riding-whip in his hand."

"That confounded dog of mine--the uncourteous rascal," said he, "does
not understand how he ought to receive a stranger. Mr. Traveller, it
rejoices me to see you in my abode. My friend has already made me
acquainted with your name." He requested us to be seated, and offered
us each a pipe, which he himself had well supplied with tobacco, in the
kindest manner.

"But, my God," whispered the new guest to me, "every thing looks here
pretty much as with other well-bred people. All so human. Ah! I am very
sorry that I am so undeceived." Yet a closer observation conducted the
sufficiently quick eye of the Englishman to the various peculiarities
there, and served to enrich his sketch-book with sundry notices, which
he has been obliging enough to communicate to us.

The student knows how to live here. He has fitted up his room very
commodiously. The sleeping-room certainly is somewhat small; often,
rather an alcove, in which, besides his bed, his wardrobe, his
dressing-table, and a large trunk, there is little to be seen. But one
might almost pronounce his sitting-room comfortable, were it not
distinguished by rather too much of a lyrical disorder. Books, pipes,
rapiers, clothes, coffee, and writing apparatus, are somewhat too
little assorted; and the stove, standing in the room itself--but
Germans in this respect know no better. Yet one must admit that those
little machines, which look like an adiaphory, between a Roman urn and
a German beer-jug, and which one might take by the end of the long pipe
and carry with one along the streets, are very well adapted to the
needs of the student, who commonly only wiles away an hour at home, and
then hastens again to the college, since they quickly warm the room,
and as quickly let it cool again. They are readily made hot, so that
you may easily when at full heat light your pipe at them.

There are not wanting tables, chairs, a commode, a writing-table and
book-shelves, and a sofa that is pretty well used. Our host, at first
sight looked, to my fancy, somewhat Turkish, as at our morning visit he
sat enjoying his pipe and coffee, in a coloured plaid morning-gown and
showy slippers. But the legs--no, they were not crossed in Turkish
fashion, but stretched out at will from the sofa in true English style,
and seemed to feel themselves very much at home in the room. He had a
handkerchief thrown loosely round his neck, and the small, round, and
embroidered cap sat not inelegantly on his head. These caps, as I
learned in course of conversation, are termed _cerevis_, or beer-caps.
What especially struck me in the apartment, were the various
decorations which adorned the walls in gay rows, and the signification
of which our host politely explained to me. Upon one wall was displayed
a long line of profiles, all under glass, and in small gilt frames. A
coloured Chore-band falling from above, wound about them, and
comprehended them, as it were, in one great family. "These," said he,
"are in memory of the friends who have contributed to embellish my six
semesters at the university:" and I learned that it was the practice,
especially of those who belonged to the same Chore, mutually to honour
each other with those little likenesses.

"We have here," said he, "in Heidelberg, the Herr Münich, who executes
these things in first-rate style, and derives almost a livelihood alone
from this branch of business. It is the same in other places. I have
already passed some time in Jena, Berlin, and Bonn, and have enjoyed
the friendship of many a brave Bursche. There, you see the views of
many a city through which I have travelled. They will to the latest
hour yield me delightful recollections." These, with the well-executed
portraits of many professors, filled a second wall. Amongst them
proudly displayed themselves several printed duplicates of the doctoral
diplomas of his friends.

"And whose likeness is this which hangs in the midst?" I asked. "That,"
he replied, "is the portrait of our famous Pawk-doctor, which cannot be
wanting in any kneip."

On the third wall I beheld pipes of all forms and sizes, from the
meerschaum to the clay pipe; and my polite host promised me at the next
opportunity, to give me a lecture, as he expressed it, on these
articles of furniture. My eye was now caught by the garniture which I
beheld about the looking-glass. It was hung round with ribands of
various colours, and above it appeared the remains of garlands. As I
noticed them my host said--"See, those are flowers out of the mourning
garlands which deck many a departed friend who sleeps in the cool
earth; which we carefully preserve."

"And the ribands with the many inscriptions and the dates?" I asked.
"Those," said he, "are my Chore-brothers; and the date indicates the
foundation-day of our _Verbindung_."

On the fourth wall were to be seen a Schläger with the Chore-colours; a
chore-cap and a guitar, with several coloured rosettes. There stood
also a little table, and upon it apparatus for drinking and smoking; a
large Deckel-glass with a lid, having upon it an engraved inscription,
"Traumansdorf to his Freisleben, 18th July, 1838;" an elegant little
casket with tobacco, a spill-vase, a study lamp, a vessel denominated
the Pope, to receive the ashes of the tobacco on emptying the pipe, and
an incombustible spill, or Fidebus, a new discovery, and certainly one
of the most useful of the nineteenth century. This consists of a small
strong coloured glass tube, which is partly filled with spirits of
wine, and closed with a cork; through which a wire is thrust, and to
the bottom end of which wire is secured a small knob of wood wrapped in
cotton wool. This wire has a ring at the top, by which it is pulled
out, and the knob ignited at the lamp when it is wished to light a
pipe--a convenient piece of machinery, and also forming an ornament to
the table.

As 1 continued to observe these mysteries, my host took up the guitar,
and touching the strings, sung,--


                  He who can neither drink, love, nor sing,
                  How scorneth the Bursche so mean a thing!


"I can guess, and therefore ask not," I observed, "what your rosettes
mean." "It was a delightful August ball," said he to his friend
significantly. "And this glass, too, I see, is the gift of a friend," I
added. "Certainly, you are quite to be envied." "That is nothing
extraordinary," he remarked; "it is the custom amongst students to
compliment each other with, or to dedicate to each other, as we express
it, such things. The inscriptions which you see on you pipe-heads, on
those ribands, on this glass, we term dedications. They bear the name
of the giver, and the day which is the most distinguished in our lives
through some remarkable event, on which day such a gift is generally
given. Let us add to the so-called gifts the silhouettes and the sword,
and you have altogether what the student is accustomed to dedicate to
his fellow-student. But be seated. The coffee will be cold, and my pipe
is actually gone out. If you will have a morning-gown, I have another,
and I am always sorry to see any one squeezed up in an uncomfortable
schnippel (student term for a dress coat). Would you think that a
German had so much regard to comfort? Ha! ha! Much more than you
imagine. Fancy yourself before an English fireplace (opening the door
of the stove); since, without that, I know you don't feel yourself
comfortable; and that we also are aware of the pleasantness of a
fireplace, is shown by our frequently having the stove open into the
room. And do you know that we have an equivalent for your word
_comfort_, of which you are so proud?"

"If you will tell me what it is," I answered, "I will believe it; but I
have hunted through every dictionary for it in vain, since your words
behaglich, gemüthlich, bequem, don't express the actual thing."

"Pomadig," cried he, laughing; "that's the lordly word! but it is only
one of our _termini technici_, and is not yet sanctioned by Adelung."

"I will swear from this day forward," I exclaimed, "that the students
are _pomadig_." "Have pomade," said he, correcting me, "for we are no
pomadenhengste. When I am laid up some day," he continued, "I will make
you a vocabulary of our terms with their synonymes, and shall
felicitate myself thereby on contributing to a more perfect knowledge
of the German language in England. You will take care to publish it?"
"Assure yourself of that," I replied.

"But what has the Boot-fox brought?" asked my host of his friend, who
during this time had been in conversation with a queer-looking fellow.
"A duplicate diploma from Schmidt," he replied. "What has the old boy
then bitten of the sour apple at last!" "Yes! he has worked like a
dragon--he has _geoxed_ tremendously during the last year, and has now
taken the highest degree."

Freisleben sings:--


                  Therefore lets he fall a tear,
                  And thinks--ah! but youth was dear!
                  And gives me an examen summa cum laude.


"I am very curious," said I, "to know who the man was that walked in
without knocking, and whom you styled Boot-fox. He looked like a
servant that, instead of livery, a man has stuck into a student's coat;
and what a cap he had on! And besides that, he had such a curious voice
that one could have thought it belonged to some other person, or that
somebody else was in the room when he spoke."

"Ha! ha! I will explain that to you. This odd fellow belongs to a class
of ministering spirits who live entirely by the students. We dub them
Boot-foxes, because they clean our boots and clothes. They are bound to
run also on our commissions, and must figure in processions and public
pageants. As the poor devil must turn out very early in the mornings,
his voice snaps and cracks huskily from the effects of the raw air,
like that of a youth in the transition-state from a hobbledehoy to a
man, till by degrees it balances itself in one key. For the rest, he is
a respectable father of a family, and his wife is generally a
washerwoman for the students."

"All that is easy enough to understand," I replied. "Why do you call
him a boot-fox?"

"Ah, I forgot to observe, that in earlier times the foxes, who, as you
know are students just come from the schools, and whom we yet play many
a joke upon, were frequently obliged, very improperly, to perform those
offices which our Famulus now discharges, and thence this name dates
itself."

"I have made myself acquainted," said I, "with a new species of foxes.
The other day I heard a professor spoken of as a school-fox."

"Yes, yes; this name is given contemptuously to one of those teachers
who, without penetrating into the spirit of knowledge, turns into his
scholars, by hogsheads, the unfermented deluge of material, and reckons
a man learned if he has only piled up in his hollow skull a chaos of
things merely gathered by rote. God be praised, these scarecrows become
scarcer from day to day. Yet, alas! there lies in the German word
_Gelehrter_, the idea of one who has been _taught_ without our being
able to say whether he has actually _learned_. The French say not _les
enseignes_ but _les savants_; and the English not _the taught ones_.
but the _learned_."

"But," said I, "your _Gelehrter_, of the present day, we may also
certainly style the learned."

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

"Knowest thou," asked friend Eckhardt, "whence comes the term
school-fox?"

"Not clearly?"

"Then hear! M. Just Ludwig Brismann, born at Triptis, in Voiglande, who
had been schoolmaster in Hof, Zwickau, and Naumburg, and who died
Professor of Greek in Jena, on the 19th of August, 1585, was accustomed
to wear a greatcoat lined with fox-skin. This sort of clothing, which
he had been used to wear before he came to live at Jena, he still
continued to sport there. The students in Jena looked upon this
raiment, which was then quite out of date and very singular, as so odd
that they made game of it, and those of them who had previously known
him as schoolmaster, dubbed him School-fox. Thence sprung the name of
school-foxery, which comprehends every thing pedantic, contemptible,
and degrading."

"And may I ask," I added, "what you pay this precious Bursche for his
important services? I ask, since I think of staying here this winter,
and would therefore willingly enlighten myself on all matters of
housekeeping."

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

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

"You must recollect," said Freisleben, "that we are for the rest of the
day attended by the house-besom," the student phrase for housemaid, who
also in Berlin is styled _schlavin_, or she-slave.

"Hast thou heard the anecdote," interrupted Eckhardt, "of Schmidt's
answer to our boot-fox the other morning?"

"No; let us hear it."

"The Famulus came very early to Schmidt's bedside, and said, very
laconically--'the Geheimrath Forst is dead to-night. Have you any other
commands?' 'Yes,' answered Schmidt, still heavy with sleep, 'I command
the Geheimrath Langsam (a very rich and miserly old gentleman) to die
too, and to make me his heir.'"

"Famously answered!" said Freisleben; "but, Mr. Traveller, you would
know more of our household regulations. Our House-Philistine must
provide for all our domestic necessaries, bringing in the account
monthly, which, however, we are not obliged so very exactly to pay.
They furnish us with wood, lights, etc. Breakfast we commonly brew for
ourselves, in its proper machine. For the lodging, consisting of two
rooms, we pay perhaps from thirty to forty gulden, and the house-besom
receives besides, each semester, two kronen thaler--nine shillings,
English."

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

"Not quite so much so as you imagine. If you take into the account the
expense of the college lectures, you cannot well, at least pleasantly,
live under 800 or 1000 gulden. There are universities where you may
live much cheaper, but few where you can live so agreeably as here. You
know how Lichtenberg has divided the sciences. So I might here divide
the universities into such as where a man may live cheaply and well, to
which class Munich and Vienna particularly belong; where he may live
cheap and badly, as in many of the smaller universities, particularly
Halle, which affords only nutriment for the hungerers after knowledge;
where he may live well and somewhat expensively, as at Heidelberg; and
finally, where he may live dearly and ill, of which the great Berlin is
an example. I speak here only of the material life, apart from which,
every university has its peculiarities in many respects; in short, has
its own _ton_. When you have learnt thoroughly to understand
Heidelberg, and then afterwards visit other German universities, what a
variety will you not find."

"I would gladly learn," said I, "the differences of these various
universities which you say are so characteristic. It is a very
interesting subject."

"But a long one," said my friend, "which we must reserve for another
occasion. But," turning to Freisleben, he added, "I forgot to tell you
something which the Boot-fox has communicated."

"What is it?" asked Freisleben.

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

"And what wants she?"

"O, she creeps humbly to the cross, and prays earnestly that we will
again take our meals there."

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

"That," said I, "if I remember right, is the woman whom you said had
been put into _verruf_, or under the bann."

"The same."

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

"O, no. Part of them at the Gasthouses (inns); part here and there,
with private people, who keep a table for us, and even send us, if
required, our meals up into our chambers. About thirty of us took our
dinners at this aforesaid widow's, and paid each twenty kreutzers the
day (not quite seven-pence). But towards the conclusion of the last
semester, it was no longer to be endured! simply and eternally
cow-beef--and at last it grew still worse. Thereupon it was absolutely
necessary to give Madame, the Philistine, a lecture."

"Excuse me," I interrupted, "but I must first beg for a solution of the
term Philistine, which you so often use."

"We comprehend all who are not students under the name of Philistines.
In a more restricted sense, we understand by Philistines, inhabitants
of the city, and distinguish them from the Handwerks-Burschen, by
giving to the latter the title of Knoten; and the shopkeepers' young
men that of Schwünge, or Ladenschwünge, that is, Pendulums, or
Shop-pendulums. Others write the word Knoten, _Gnoten_, and say
that the artisans and journeymen were so called from _Genossen_,
_Handwerks-Genossen_, comrades or artisan-comrades, thence corrupted
to _Genotten_, and finally to _Gnoten_. We have already stated
that _Gnoten_ was supposed to be derived from their fighting with
_Knoten-stöcken_, or knotty sticks. Thus, as in most cases of
philological derivation, a fine dispute might be raised; it would be an
interesting subject, and the author might be rewarded for his pains by
the impressions of some dozen bludgeons on his back. But, not to lose
sight of the object of your inquiry--our domestic arrangements--I
here remark that the Philistine in whose house we lodge, is styled
house-philistine, and his wife, the Philöse. The student who is
quartered with us in the same house is our House-Bursche; and he
who shares with us our apartments, is to us a Stuben-Bursche, or
Room-Fellow."

"I thank you," I added. "I have certainly put your commentatorial
patience to a severe trial."

"One speaks of oneself," he replied, "generally pretty willingly. We
have that feeling in common with all mortals."

"But," I interposed, "it seems to me that you enjoy your comfortable
room very little, spite of all its comforts, if you neither dine nor
take your tea there of an evening."

"Tea!" he exclaimed, "tea! yes that is a right good beverage, but for
daily use a little too sentimental. Look you--our course of life is
this:--In the morning we pursue our studies over a cup of coffee, and a
pipe of tobacco; then we go to the classes. About twelve o'clock we
dine; then to the coffeehouse; and how much we study after that, or how
we otherwise employ ourselves, you will presently see. But in the
evening, we resort to the Kneip, and drink no tea, but beer; and to the
Kneip we now cordially invite you.

"But don't think we despise what may be called your national beverage;
for that also, comes a time. When in the long evenings we sit behind
our books, and the anticipation of the examination stands like a
spectre at the door, and bars it to our egress, then, praised be tea!
and its black brother, coffee; it is then they who must cheer us, when
the spirit of life threatens to faint, quiver, and expire. But excuse
me, I must now unto the college, which I cannot to-day very well
_schwänzen_. So fare ye well!"

And thus we parted.

N. B.--The expression Ein Kolleg schwänzen--to tail a lecture--means,
to put off its attendance. The term is derived from an earlier meaning
of the word _schwänzen_, for which the term _durch-brennen_, to burn
through, is now used, and is equivalent to the English phrase,
"to give leg-bail to your creditors." In the persiflage on the
_Burschen-comment_, entitled "_Dissertatio de Quomodone, etc_.," by
Martial Schluck, from which we have before quoted, it is said, "an
honourable Bursche has the right not to pay his debts; that is, he
may _schwänzen_ and _squiscion_ himself, make a _squis_ in his
shoes,--meaning that he may sacrifice his tail like a fox, who will
rather lose his tail than his life; and thus will the student rather
leave behind him his trunk and cloak-bag, than wait to be clapped into
prison."

When a student attends a lecture which ought to be paid for, but does
not pay for it, he is said to "hospitiren;" and he is allowed twice or
three times to hospitiren. If, however, he does this for a whole
semester, in order to devote the price of the lecture to some other
object, the students call this "to shoot a lecture." The description of
this term, is also thus explained by Schluck. "The student has the
right to seize upon other people's property, that is, to shoot, to
prefer, to lay the charge upon another. This is a new mode of putting
oneself into possession of something; that is, to commit a theft of a
life-and-soulless thing, and call it only a half-theft. Shooting
distinguishes itself essentially from stealing. First, by the student
privately conveying it away at once; and secondly, by giving the owner
of the property notice of what he had done, after it is done. This mode
of taking possession is not so much according to our customs as those
of the Lacedæmonians, which brought no shame to any one by the statutes
of Lycurgus, but rather honour and fame, to him who unobserved and in a
clever style carried off any thing."

The principal objects of _conveyance_, are pipes, sticks, spurs,
chore-tassels for the embellishment of pipes, riding-whips, and money
to the amount of a _doubel_. What is more than that must be merely
taken in loan, if it be there to take.

Friend Freisleben has, in this chapter, given us some notifications of
the manner in which he amuses himself in his hours of relaxation. Yet
we must hope that these are not all the fountains of enjoyment, that
are flowing for his refreshment, when he finds himself exhausted with
such arduous battles in the field of science. Our care indeed, is
unnecessary, since the inventive head of the student has, in all times,
least of all neglected this portion of his life.

But before we speak of other diversions, which our hero, partly in his
own and partly in other Kneips enjoys, or without, in the free air, we
must devote a few lines to that faithful companion, his dog. Some will,
perhaps say, "What! is it not enough that we have to do with the wild
student, must we also encounter his unmannerly hound?" But good reader,
recollect yourself of the words of Wagner in Faust:


            E'en the wise man, howe'er profound,
            Loves, when well trained, the generous hound,--
            And well deserveth he thy favour too,
            The student's scholar, apt and nobly true.


It is true, that a monstrous deal has already been said of the dog; but
by no one has he been more graphically described than by the immortal
Linnæus. He says, amongst other things, "He is the most faithful of all
creatures; dwells with man; fawns on his returning lord; bears not in
his memory the strokes he inflicts upon him; runs before him on his
journey; looks back at a cross-way, and seeks obediently that which is
lost; holds watch by night; announces the approach of any one; and
guards the property."

How much do we desire the eloquence of Demosthenes, that we might
pronounce a fitting panegyric on the dog, already made illustrious by
so many pens. We can, however, only sketch the character and manners of
the student's dog with simple colours, nevertheless we hope to do the
dog-family some service, and to amuse the reader with some new
anecdotes. Various as are the young people which are blown together, as
it were, by the winds out of every climate into a University city, as
various are the dogs which the spectator will see following at their
heels. They are seldom brought with them from home; but the fancy which
the student has for the beast, has created a class of men, who make a
trade in dogs a distinct branch of business. These people also, for a
moderate honorarium, superintend the toilet of this creature, which
care is particularly demanded by the luxuriant growth of hair of the
shock. This dog, sometimes, when he comes new washed and shorn out of
their hands, in the loss of his monthly crop of hair, scarcely knows
himself again.

If one reflects too, that every individual student, out of the
multitude of dogs, selects that one which seems to assort itself most
completely with his pleasure and humour, one sees probably therein the
ground of the observation which we once heard made by an intelligent
English lady, who asserted that there was always visible a great
likeness between the dog and his master. We can only corroborate the
justice of this remark, and it must strike every one, that the dog
continually picks up first one and then another of the peculiarities of
his master.

He who desires to take a general glance at the different races of dogs
which inhabit our city, I counsel him to attend the annual dog-muster.
This is held in an appointed place on an appointed day, whereto all the
dogs of the city, both those of the students and the citizens, must be
brought. These all pass, in succession, under the inspection of a beast
doctor, and such as neither through disease nor old age fall under a
sentence of death, are redeemed by the payment of a certain tax, and
have a tin label hung on their necks, which they wear for a certain
time. I add here, in passing, a refutation of those who assert that the
Germans are ungallant, in the fact that the ladies of the canine
species are charged only a gulden each for their redemption, while the
gentlemen of that race are mercilessly mulcted to the extent of a
gulden and a half.

Great and small, tall and short, thick and thin, one or many coloured,
all meet here together. On the one side, you see the heavy house-dog,
and the butcher's dog, how humbly they follow their masters; the
multitude of yaffing turnspits, prized as true watchers; on the other
hand you descry a line of boot-foxes, who have conducted hither the
dogs of the students.


            Hither come hastening with throngs and with pride,
            Lots of proud fellows from every side.
                                   _Reineke der Fuchs, by Göethe_.


There is the poodle with his thick, round head, with the stumpy nose
and hanging ears; he is propped on his short, stout leg, and his
knowing eye blinks forth from amongst the crisp woolly hair. He permits
himself good-humouredly to be adorned with his new order. Grimly steps
forth at the call, the colossal bull-dog, with black, thick, split
nose, and slavering chops; but over him towers the English mastiff, in
hairy coat of one uniform hue. The hunting dog, in a place where all
worthy exercise of his powers is denied him, has stretched himself out
calmly, supporting his strong head with its long drooping ears, on his
vigorous foot. The slim greyhound, constantly trembling, has cowered
down in a corner. Here and there you discover a fretful thick-bodied
pug, with his upthrown snub nose, which the popular speech styles a
saddle-nose. There is the bandylegged Dachs too, with his deep sweeping
ears, dark colour, and eyes full of intelligence.

The dog of the university leads a wholly peculiar life, not unlike that
of his master, since he accompanies him every where. The saloon and the
College hall only have closed their doors against him. Hence it is
said--


                  If at home thou would'st me find,
                  Pray thee leave thy dog behind.


During the time that the student spends in these places, his dog is
confined to his chamber. Here he fills up many hours with his dolorous
lamentations, or at the window watches with envious impatience the
passing of his brethren along the street, and challenges them with
savage yells. Whether he avails himself of the books of his master to
advance himself in science, we will not venture to say; yet we have
ourselves seen them fly through the window of their abodes that were
not at a great height from the ground, and seeking their masters in the
College hall, there, as very attentive Hospitanters, stay out the
remainder of the lecture. One of my friends had a white poodle, who was
accustomed regularly to accompany him to the indifferently attended
lectures of a certain professor, where he sat quietly on the bench by
his side, and looked solemnly into the note-book of his master. One day
the dog was absent, when the extremely short-sighted professor, in
opening his lecture, remarked, "Gentlemen, it would be well if you all
wore coats of one colour; and were they dark ones they would be not so
much observed by me, but it struck me immediately that the gentleman in
the white coat was absent to-day!" The great aptness of this creature
to be taught, often furnishes the students with much entertainment. He
readily learns to carry his master's stick and portfolio to the College
hall, whence on his command, he returns quietly to the house. He is the
best of chamber attendants, bringing in the morning his master's
slippers and pipe. If he returns home at night rather inspirited by
Bacchus, he accompanies him as a safe conductor, often bearing things
which he has unwittingly dropt, after him.

A dog at one of the universities was well known as an excellent guide.
He led his master home every evening; if he turned into a wrong street,
he seized him by the coat, and pulled him back; if he fell down, he
barked loudly till he rose again; and when they arrived at the house,
the sagacious animal knew very well how to ring the bell.

They are also made use of in many a prank or piece of waggery. Thus it
is said, that once in Leipsic, the students accustomed their dogs to
the most frequent Christian names of the ladies of that city, and so
soon as they came readily at that unusual call, the ungallant sons of
the Muses allowed themselves the unpardonable joke of shouting aloud
those names in the public walks, so that it is said, the fair sex in
surprise quitted the field.

In one of the university cities, two dogs also furnished this
spectacle. An order had been issued, that, to avoid any serious
accidents from them, no students' dogs should appear in public except
led in a band. Presently was seen a student with two dogs in cords. The
one was a little pug scarcely two spans high, which was led in a rope
about as thick as a man's arm, whilst the other, a huge and monstrous
creature of the kind which the students call _Doggen_, apparently half
mastiff, half bull-dog, stalked near it, led by a piece of twine.

We still see these creatures made co-workers in many a frolic. At the
dinner table, in the public walk, in the fencing-school, and in the
evening at the Kneip, every where must the dog attend his master. He
must eat with him in the same house; the master, indeed, in the
chamber, the dog in the kitchen; for which repast, however, is allowed
on the dog's behalf two kreutzers a-day. Neither are combats wanting
between them, whereby they may the more resemble their masters, and to
which the masters, in fact, conduct them. In these dog-duels it goes
often much worse than in those of their lords, for they seize each
other so furiously that it is often difficult to separate them.

"The dog," says Linnæus, "remembers not with resentment the blows of
his master." The student's dog is a striking example of the truth of
this remark. How often, when the Bursche returns home from a drinking
company, must this faithful servant do penance for the wild humours of
the evening. It goes not better with him on such occasions than with
many a poor German wife, who yet bears her lot with patience. She still
loves her rough commander, even while he treats her with unmanly
rudeness, and seeks to hide his weaknesses. So this true creature. Is
his lord in danger? he defends him to the last, and often renders him
the most signal services in skirmishes with the Knoten; yea, he
hesitates not to attack the sacred person of the beadle. He is denied
admittance to the duel, because he would speedily, as an uninvited
second, spring between the combatants, and as some assert, on account
of such accidents as the following. A duellist had his nose cut off,
and a large bull-dog which was in the room--perhaps they had forgot to
give him his dinner--greedily swallowed it; so greedily, that it was
impossible to prevent it! Whether the unnosed Bursche had a new one
made for him by Geheimrath Gräfe, or whether he afterwards wore a
silver one, I am not prepared to say.

The student dog extends his student life far beyond that of his master,
who turns him over into the hands of another on his own departure. It
thus happens that many of these creatures travel from one hand to
another, till, finally, they belong to no individual possessor but to a
whole Chore, and live a free, unrestrained life. They then kneipe in
rotation with the brethren of the Chore, all of whose dwellings they
are acquainted with; and if they appear a little lost during the rest
of the day, yet they are regularly found at the places of public
meeting for social enjoyment. There was, for instance, the little
Tambourlé here, which for many years lived only on sugar, which it
received from the coffee-drinkers in a well-known coffee-house. At
every fresh cup it demanded two or three pieces of sugar, as its
established toll.

It is also gratifying to see, when these welcome guests are grown old
and weak, how the other dogs receive them, and stand strictly by these
Bemossed Heads when they are attacked by the vulgarer dogs of the
streets. The cultivated dog is no longer a merely carnivorous animal,
he has accustomed himself to a variety of food; but it is perhaps the
peculiar characteristic of the student's dog that he drinks beer. Once
used to it, it becomes his greatest enjoyment to empty a few choppins,
and he seems not at all to dislike the phantasies of a half-fuddled
state. To him by no means applies what Voigt has added to Linnæus's
characteristic of the dog--"he draws himself back at the sight of a
glass."


                               *   *   *


The son of the Muses can as little be without his pipe as his dog. The
enjoyment which it affords him, is at once single and manifold. It
embellishes his pleasures, it comforts him in trouble, it warms him in
the cold, it cools him in the heat of summer. Should ennui seize him,
he fills his pipe, turns to his study, and what a fulness of thought
comes over him as he gazes into the clouds of smoke, which, curling up
from his mouth, shape themselves into mysterious forms! There lies in
it a power of inexhaustible reproduction. And how shall his wine and
his beer smack without his pipe? In short, it is a discovery which
wonderfully unites in itself all opposite qualities. With all the parts
and attributes thereunto belonging, it constitutes, when displayed upon
his walk, his room an armoury, which the tender hands of the ladies do
not even disdain to embellish.

Of the continued changes which pipes in the course of time undergo in
their fashion and construction, many cabinets would convince us, did
they only contain a collection of ten years' duration. We have no
intention to weary the reader with the description of such a cabinet;
but he will allow us to state of what members a modern pipe consists,
and what is necessary to its complete use and enjoyment.

The essential portions of a pipe are the mouth-piece, the tube, the
water-sack, and the head. The two last pieces are united in the
meerschaum and the clay-pipe into one. The mouth-piece, at the upper
part, is wrought out of horn. It is made thicker or thinner, longer or
shorter, with a greater or less bore, as it may be required. The long
mouth-pieces, having various partitions, or members, as they are
called, are so finely wrought that they are quite elastic, and are sold
at a proportionate price. The mouth-piece is commonly united to the
tube by an elastic portion called a Schlauch, which is constructed of
elastic wire and silk. If the pipe is intended to be a very handsome
one, there is still another piece interposed between the schlauch and
the tube, which is made of roe's-horn, and styled the roe-crown. The
tube itself is manufactured from various materials; the coarser ones
out of juniper-wood, or cherry-tree, the finer ones out of beech and
ebony; but that which is most highly valued, on account of its
durability and agreeable odour, is the Turkish weichsel, or agriot, a
kind of wild cherry. The tubes are, again, of different lengths and
thickness, from a span in length to some yards. The Turkish pipes are
the longest.

To the tube is generally affixed the water-sack, called also by the
northern Germans the sponge-box; a little reservoir, of wedgewood or
porcelain. For elegant pipes still more beautiful, but less useful
ones, are made of horn.

The pipe-head is, however, the part on which the most cost, art, and
ornament are bestowed. The lower part of it, which, tapering away, is
fitted into the water-sack, is called the boot. The head is adorned
with a variety of paintings and inscriptions. We see upon them, as upon
snuff-boxes, many humorous occurrences perpetuated. They are enriched
with the portraits of handsome women and celebrated men, and the
painting is sometimes so beautiful as to raise their price to several
_Louisdore_ each. The students are accustomed to compliment each other
with presents of pipe-heads, ornamented with their coats of arms, and a
dedication on the reverse side.

All the various sections of the pipe are so fitted to each other that
you can readily separate them, in order to clean them; but they are
prevented from separating when in use, by silk cords which pass through
small metallic rings, and are secured at top and bottom. These cords
serve also to hang them up by. On the pipes of the Chore-Burschen the
cords proceeding from the head to the mouth-piece, are not only
secured but continued, and hanging down at liberty, bear the coloured
Chore-tassels.

The student uses in the course of the day, different pipes. In the
morning he gladly smokes out of a Turkish pipe, if such a one is at his
command. This has a small mouth-piece, a long tube, and a meerschaum
head, which gives it its greater value. It is on this account so highly
esteemed; the student asserting that no pipe smokes so pleasantly; but
its price, if it be genuine, varies from two to six, or more,
Louisdores. The material out of which the real meerschaum head is made,
is dug in Spain, Portugal, and the ancient Thebes, and consists of a
silicious clay, in chemical combination with water. The other heads are
made of various materials, and the most usual are of porcelain or
wedgewood.

The meerschaum, called by the Turks (Myrsen, Keffekil), the material
out of which the ancient Samian vessels were made, is yet used in
Turkey for the manufacture of pipe-heads; of which only the smaller
kinds are allowed to be exported. It is chiefly dug in ancient Thebes,
and is by no means employed in its crude state, but undergoes a
manipulation, similar to that of the porcelain paste. It is exposed to
a certain process of fermentation; the softened mass is diluted and
washed, then half dried, pressed in moulds, and bored whilst in them.
The heads thus formed are then dried in the shade, and afterwards hard
burnt in the furnace. After this they are boiled in milk, then in
linseed oil or wax, and finally polished with Dutch rush (equisetum)
and leather. The finest formed heads--washed ware--may not be exported,
although the Turks on the whole prefer the heads made from burnt Bole.
As the Turkish heads are not considered handsome in shape, and have too
narrow a bore, they are again turned and rebored at Ruhia in the
district of Gotha, and being brought to a more modern form, are then
boiled in tallow or wax, and again polished. The turnings are used in
the preparation of imitation meerschaum heads, which are more brittle
and less lasting than the real ones. In these heads manufactured in
Lemgo, there is no real meerschaum clay used, but a mixture of clay,
chalk, and egg-shells. These heads are heavier and more frangible than
the genuine; they more readily become rough and unclean, and take a
metallic streak from gold or silver, which is not the case with
meerschaum heads.--_Leonhard's Oryktognosie_.

A new pipe requires great care in bringing it into use, till it is as
it is phrased, besmoked, or seasoned; that is, till the inside of the
pipe-head is coated with a black crust of finely cemented-together
tobacco dust. Till this is effected the pipe has not a good flavour,
and it requires to be well and vigorously smoked out. To promote this
seasoning, it is customary to smear the inside of the head with
sugar-water, before it is filled with tobacco. This seasoning of the
meerschaum head is particularly difficult. While it is warm, during the
first time of smoking, it must not be touched with the fingers; it must
be suffered to cool slowly, and must be protected from being touched or
rubbed by any thing.

The long pipes, called house-pipes, serve the Burschen usually at the
Kneips; the very short one, on their walks, or when out shooting, as a
long one might then be inconvenient. That there are people who
extravagantly carry their luxury so far as, from year to year, at all
times and seasons, to smoke genuine meerschaum pipes, any one may, to
his astonishment, read in Bulwer's Ernest Maltravers.

The white clay pipes, which were formerly in general use, are no longer
used by the student; but they may be daily seen in the mouths of
countrymen.

Thus we have put together a right noble pipe, and will now take a peep
at the apparatus requisite to its enjoyment. The most indispensable,
certainly, is tobacco. To lecture on the various qualities of this
article, we want both patience and sufficient knowledge. How many
descending steps are there between the finest Knaster, and the weed
which fumes up rank and qualmish from the pipe of the wood-cutter! The
worst sort is jocosely called "three times round the body for a
farthing," which may fittingly be smoked over that liquor called
"three-men wine," because it would require two men to hold a man while
the third forced this Tartarian wine down his throat.

Much luxury is expended over that little ornamental repository for the
preservation of this precious commodity--the so-called tobacco-casket
Abroad the student carries the narcotic herb with him in a
tobacco-pouch, which is often ornamented with embroidery by some fair
hand. The long and thickly-piled together strips of paper (spills),
which are used to light the pipes, are in Germany known by the name of
"Fidibus," and its derivation from "fidelibus patribus," the jolly
monks, shows that these good fellows did not despise the enjoyment of
tobacco, when they could in private breathe its beatifying fumes.

Another yet similar derivation is the following. At the time when
the students were forbidden to smoke tobacco, they had private
smoking-companies, where the host sent round a Latin bill with the
following contents, which the student who agreed to go to it,
undersigned not with his real, but with a purposely assumed name:


                              Fid.   Ibus.
                            S. D.      N. H.
                        Hodie hora vii. a. v. s.

That is, Fidelibus fratribus salutem dicit N. hospes. Hodie hora
septima (apparebit in museo meo, herba Nicotiana) abunde vobis
satisfaciam. As soon as they all were assembled, they placed themselves
in a circle, and each lit his pipe with his bill, as a Fid....ibus
offering--whence arose the term Fidibus.

The inconsumable Fidibus is a new invention with which our English
friend, Mr. Traveller, was struck in the lodging of Freisleben, and in
his notes thereon very graphically described.

When we have smoked a while, it is necessary to press together the mass
which has expanded itself proudly in the pipe head, and for this
purpose is used a sort of stamper, or stopper, also furnished with a
knob of wood. This instrument has received a variety of names. In
Heidelberg it is called _Dentsch_,--a name coined for the cogent reason
that it will rhyme with _mensch_, without which the poet would find
himself in what the Americans call, an "eternal fix." Another name is
Melibocus, after the mountain on the Bergstrasse. In this instrument
there is generally contained a wire, which you can draw out in order to
give air to the clogged up part of your pipe. It is thus at once a
stopper and an opener.

The process of smoking is a species of distillation, whereby the
water-sack, as a receiver, takes off the fluid product, while the fume
passes into the still-head, and is thence conveyed to the mouth, where
it achieves its narcotic purposes, and thence is again discharged into
the air. It is to be expected that this chemical apparatus will from
time to time require cleaning; and for this end is used a small feather
for the shorter tubes, and for the longer ones the fine clear stalk of
a peculiarly tall and strong kind of grass (Luzula maxima) which grows
in the woods. Some poor imp, unfit for other work, undertakes to
furnish the smoker with this necessary article, and those who gather
them in the woody hills round Heidelberg, even extend their trade in
them as far as Mannheim and Karlsruhe. When the stranger mounts
up to the ruins of Heidelberg castle, he is often accosted by this
_Binsen-Bube_ or _Blumen-Bube_, Rush-boy or Flower-boy, as he is
called, who, with most graceful obeisances, presents him with a small
nosegay, and patiently waits for a substantial token of its acceptance.
This is the great gatherer and furnisher of the _Binsen_, or rush, as
it is unbotanically called, for the fumiferous public.

The cigar, which we must not forget, is much less affected by the
student. Yet he sometimes prefers it to a pipe, over a cup of coffee;
and then is he accustomed, with great satisfaction, to drive forth the
smoke through his nostrils, in order to make himself thoroughly
conscious of his luxury.

If the reader has held out actually to the end of this dissertation on
smoking, then we are very certain that the general and determined
smoking in Germany has arrested his attention. We do not pretend to
offer a reason for the remarkable growth of the practice of smoking
amongst us during the last ten or twenty years. It seems to us somewhat
far-fetched to assign as the cause, as has been done by a learned
German writer, that it is a natural necessity to dull and modify to a
healthful degree the all too dominant nervous sensibility and
imaginative susceptibility of the over-refined, and especially of the
learned, man.

We may remark, in conclusion, that, amongst the students, snuff-taking
is much less common than smoking: and, having thus sufficiently
described, to our fancy, the two most constant companions of the Son of
the Muses, his dog and his pipe, we may now, without further care,
leave him to follow his labours, and amusements in such good company.




                               CHAPTER X.

              RURAL AND SUMMER AMUSEMENTS OF THE STUDENTS.


The natural beauties of Heidelberg are well known abroad. Who is he who
has looked upon its picturesque environs with a healthful mind, and has
not been enraptured with them? Therefore, the son of the Muses, who is
here passing his student years, eagerly hastens out in the lovely days
of summer into the free regions of nature that lie around. The walks in
the immediate vicinity of the city are diligently trodden by him. Above
all, the castle enjoys the frequent visits of the student youth in
thronging numbers. The student is to be met here every hour of the day,
but he still more loves to survey here the beauties of a moonlight
night. Leaning over the terrace, he looks down upon the city as it lies
in its solemn silence stretched along the bank of the Neckar. Its
inhabitants, with all their troubles and pleasures,--his companions,
with all the pursuits and passions of restless youth, are hushed into
deep slumber. He only wakes, but the hours which he steals from sleep
are not lost. He glances wide over the plain of the Pfalz, which,
illuminated by the moon's uncertain light, offers to the eye no longer
its boundary of hills. Opposite to him, the castle rears its gigantic
pile, and varying its outlines with every change of the moonlight,
challenges the imagination to equal its bold features in its highest
flights. The moon now advances from behind some envious cloud, and the
windows of the palace of Otto Heinrich appear magically lit up, and it
seems again to stand in all the splendour of past ages. But the
solitary watcher has unconsciously wandered forward till he finds
himself standing close to the spot where Matthieson sung his elegy.
Suddenly all falls back into shade, and before him stands a sublime
image of the wrath and passions of man--the rifted tower--one part
blown up and hurled, in one mighty mass, into the moat. In the vaulted
chambers of the yet standing portion, the mysterious forms of heroes
long gone down to the dust, seem to erect themselves, and to cry wo
over the desolating fury of the French. The wanderer feels a momentary
shiver pass through him--but he glances up to heaven, which expands
above him in its glorious clearness--an image of divine peace and rest;
the owl, with its dismal shout of joy, brings him back from his dreams,
and in silence he descends to the silent city.


                  How sweet 'tis in the air!
                  No hateful tyrant there
                    Scathes Nature's fair reign.
                  No base adulator,
                  No slanderous traitor,
                    Empoisons the plain.
                                              _Salis_.


The cool shades of the Wolfsbrunnen afford the student a delicious
retreat in the heat of a summer's day; and many another spot of the
vicinity are sought by him with equal delight, which have been already
often sketched and described.

This is not the place to attempt it, and were it, we should despair of
saying any thing more on the natural beauties of Heidelberg; but we
cannot resist quoting a few passages from a very popular article on
Heidelberg in the Halle Year-Book.

After the author has described the view from the balcony of the castle,
he says, "While in the youthful mind the sentiment of an infinite
fulness of life springs up from those rich and wide prospects, the
stiller and more secret charms of the environs of Heidelberg allure it
to thoughtful and more intimate observations of nature. The dark
shadowy paths of the casile gardens invite to solitary walks. Every
where on all hands hidden glens lead away into the mountains, and
winding pathways provoke to farther advances, and conduct to
continually fresh discoveries of charming valleys and woods, new views
in the distance, and more romantic places of repose. At one place we
quit the view of the ruin and the plain, where serene but busy life
displays itself; a few steps forward, and the most profound solitude
receives us; instead of the laughing fields and sloping vineyards,
solemn thick beech woods, in which for hours we meet no trace of
human existence, engulf us. We bury ourselves in the depths of the
Odenwald--then suddenly we stand on the airy peak of the mountain, or a
wide ravine rends itself out of the hill-side before us, and there
again lies in our view the whole magnificence of the Rhine-plain at our
feet! We see in the distance the ancient Worms, and the towers of
Speir, and of Trifells, where King Richard sate in captivity; and
yonder the ruins of the castle of Hambach; and in this one glance comes
before us a vast fragment of history--the Niebelungen Lied, and the old
holy Roman Empire, with its secular and spiritual Electors and Princes
under the Emperor, and Luther before the Diet. And then sweep before us
the Crusades; and then again the times in which the wild troops of
Turenne came hither from behind that Rhine-stream, the French soldiers
playing at ball, as they came, in the Dome of Speir, with the skulls of
German kings; and finally, the latest scenes of the past, when upon
that castle of Hambach the German and the French tricolour flapped on
the same standard staff. And these histories which we have lived over
again in this one view, are not yet dead and worn out, but still plant
themselves in the very heart of the present, and intertwine themselves
beneath our feet there, in many an intricate winding. A network of
boundaries lies before us; every fresh glance falls on a fresh
territory--upon a different race of the German people. There, towards
the south, the ancient Swabia shadows itself forth; here, northward,
Hesse divides itself from the Pfalz; there, beyond the river, contends
the active French spirit against the strict old Bavarian discipline,
and nourishes itself with its beloved traditions and daring hopes.
Still farther off can we look into this very France itself, which for
centuries has been so fatally disastrous to us. Those steam-vessels
which cover the Rhine, and bear in them travellers of all nations, are
ready to convey us upward to the foot of the Alps, or downward to the
sea; and the busy and restless traffic, which moving between these
points daily rushes to and fro, past us, there presses itself into the
very centre of our field of vision."

The reader must pardon us that we have permitted ourselves to be
seduced by the charms of nature to inweave here what might perhaps have
found a place in one of the last chapters; where indeed we propose to
consider what influence the student life has on the spirit and mind of
the pupil of Minerva. He will allow us now to return to our present
subject.

The more distant places the student seeks by means of a horse or
carriage. The riding horses for hire are truly, for the most part,
wretched jades. Even the means which the Renommist of Zachariæ used
would prove unavailing here; and what he thus describes, on such
Rosinantes as these could not come to pass.


      A spur-stroke and a curse gave wings unto his horse.
      The crack of ponderous whip, and rib-thumps, sans remorse,
      Sent him all foaming on, till almost, in a minute,
      The country lay behind him, the next, he was not in it.


A peculiar class of equipages are let out in the university cities, and
are hired by the student partly on account of their cheapness, but more
especially, because he can charioteer himself. He styles these little
chaises with one horse, a one-span, or one-engine. With one of these he
undertakes journeys which, especially on Sundays, stretch themselves as
far as Mannheim, to the Hardt mountains, to the Melibocus, or even to
Karlsruhe and Baden-Baden. The persecuted horse who drags these
vehicles, knows the way from Mannheim and other places, much better
than his temporary master; and when in dark nights a one-engine goes
wrong or comes to any accident it is for the most part because his
driver will not let him have his own way. Many a time the poor beasts
are so weary that the student can no longer urge them forward with the
whip, and is obliged to have recourse to stones that he picks from the
road.

Water excursions are seldom undertaken, because the ill-constructed
pleasure-boats do not allow him to guide them himself. The
neighbourhood of so many beautiful countries incites the student to
more extensive excursions, and he travels during the vacations, into
Switzerland, the Rhine country, and other places, chiefly in company of
a few friends. We may suppose it to be on some incident connected with
one of these excursions that Uhland has founded his beautiful ballad of


                        THE WIRTHIN'S DAUGHTER.

      Three students crossed over the Rhine-stream one day,
      'Twas to a Frau Wirthin's they wended their way.

     "Frau Wirthin, hast thou good beer and wine,
      And where is that lovely daughter of thine!"

     "My beer and wine are fresh and clear;
      My dear daughter lies upon the death-bier!"

      And as they stepped to the innermost room,
      There she was lying robed for the tomb.

      The first he withdrew then the veiling screen,
      And gazed upon her with sorrowful mien:

     "Ah, wert thou living, fair flower of earth,
      How should I love thee from this day forth!"

      The second he covered the pale, dead face,
      And turn'd him round and wept apace:

     "Ah, there thou art lying on thy death-bier,
      And how have I loved thee for many a year!"

      The third he lifted once more the veil,
      And kissed her upon the lips so pale:

     "Thee I loved ever! yet love thee to-day!
      And still shall I love thee for aye and for aye!"


That the student is not totally debarred from field-sports either, the
number of game dogs that he keeps sufficiently testify. A tract of land
lying along the Neckar, between Handschuhsheim and Dossenheim, is
assigned to him as his sporting ground; yet he is forbidden by the law,
to take any game-dog thither with him. This is probably to prevent
damage to the autumnal and winter crops of the peasants; which would
otherwise be sorely overrun by men and dogs. This regulation, and the
high cultivation of this tract, are the cause that the solitary
student, wandering thither with his gun, thinks himself lucky if he
returns home with an odd hare or partridge. But he has also frequent
admittance to other hunting-grounds which lie in the farms of different
citizens. The amusement of fishing does not appear so very attractive
to the German as to the Englishman, and one seldom now sees an isolated
son of the Muses, who patiently watches the line which is thrown into
the Neckar-stream, till a little fish befools itself with the bait. The
student loves not that sort of fishing, which according to his German
notion, seems at once a phlegmatic and tedious business; and there is a
caricature of an Englishman made by the students, which represents him
as sitting patiently watching his float so long, that a spider had spun
his web in the angle of the rod and line, and had already caught
several flies there before the fisherman had hooked a single fin.

Before we quit the summer pleasures of the student, we must say a few
words on the _Kirchweihs_--wakes. The reader must not alarm himself
with the fear that we are going to bore him with an essay on church
solemnities--we allude only to those popular festivities with which the
anniversary of the dedication of a church is celebrated. As is often
the case, this feast has lost its original intention; scarcely any one
thinks of the meaning of the word, which in the mouth of the ordinary
people is corrupted to _Kerve_. Every little nest, much too poor for
the possession of a church, yes, many an individual public house, even,
has its particular Kirchweih. By what authority it has usurped this
name and holiday, nobody troubles himself to inquire. People are quite
contented that, through these Kirchweihen, of which one or more fall
out within their reach every Sunday during the summer, they find
occasion to dance, drink, and sing. From every city gate then presses
forth a motley group; the worthy burger, the Handwerksbursche, the
alert young dressmaker, the homely housemaid, all are crowding forward
in a promiscuous throng. Amongst them one descries companies of a
higher grade, which rejoice themselves in the splendid summer's day.


            So gladly each sans himself to-day!
                     *   *   *   *   *
            Out of low houses, with damp, dull rooms;
            Out of the bonds of labour and trade;
            Out of the crash of the narrow alleys;
            Out of the church's reverent night,--
            They all are brought forth into the light.
            See! only see! how nimbly sallies
            The multitude, scattering through garden and field;
            How it gaily again on the broad flood rallies,
            Alive with all joys that boats can yield.


Who has not called to mind these lines of the great master, when he has
looked on the stream of the popular throng that has swept on towards
one of the resorts of holiday pleasures. In the midst of this tumult
the students are also to be seen following the current of the great
stream in smaller or greater companies. If in modern times the singular
attire less distinguishes him from the crowd, yet the practised eye
readily singles out the student from the Handwerksbursche and the shop
assistant. On the countenance of the Handworker we see displayed the
joy which he feels to find himself once more for a day able to flee
from the dusty workship, and the pride of showing himself in his Sunday
bravery, in the astonished eyes, as he believes, of the world. This
holiday array he has truly often thrown upon his back in a queer enough
style. In black frock coat, white trousers, high cravat, and glittering
boots, stalks he clumsily along, and his rude taste extends itself to
the very pipe which he carries in his hand. On the contrary, the
Pendulum has clad himself after the newest French fashion. All is
smoothed and polished off to a nicety. He looks like a dish that the
hungry Nero has licked into the most elegant cleanness. Scarcely dare
he turn himself in his beautiful clothes lest he should crumple the
ornate and artistical knot of his neckcloth; lest he should derange the
nice tornure of his locks. He wheels himself aside only to see whether
the admiring gaze of the fair sex is not following him. "_Nöthig_,"
would the student say--that is, "it would be well for him if it did!"

The student disdains, Knoten-like, to beautify himself on a Sunday. One
day is like another to him; he can devote it either to study or to
pleasure. So, as on other days, he lounges carelessly along. His attire
is not studied, but it is convenient; and according to individual
taste, more or less excellently chosen. A short frock-coat, often of a
peculiar cut, and the little cap, are all that distinguish him.
Formerly, indeed, the costume, one entire singularity, and the coloured
Chore-ribbands, the variegated cap, and the tri-colour of the
Burschenschaft, were worn openly. But in spite of all this, nothing is
so easy as to recognise the student by his free and self-possessed
carriage. Saucily, often haughtily, he observes the groups of
onward-pouring people, without turning a step out of his track;
careless whether he be an object of notice, being only too secure that
he is. So leaves he the city Besom to the Handwerksbursche, nodding,
however, a passing greeting to this and the other as they go by,
assured that, arrived at the dancing place, they will speedily forsake
the Knoten to fly to the arms of the more favoured dancer.


            I catch the hamlet's stir and cheer,
            The people's genuine heaven is here!
            Here great and small shoot glad and free,
            Here I'm a man--here may one be!


The Kirchweihs which in the neighbourhood of Heidelberg are the most
noted, are those of Neckarsteinach and Kirscheim. Thither, some years
ago, some of the most conspicuous burger families were accustomed to
make an annual rustic pilgrimage of pleasure. This glory is gone by;
yet we would recommend the latter still as the best place in which for
the stranger to witness this folks'-feast, if so we may term it. We
follow the sound of obstreperous music, and enter a garden, where a
motley multitude presents itself to our sight. All the tables are
filled; people eat and drink, chatter and smoke, laugh and sing, all in
one chaos of merry confusion. Hither and thither, where an impatient
guest thumps vigorously on the table with his glass, run the
waiters--in the student's tongue, Faxe. At one table an honest burger
company has planted itself, and over a glass of wine, weigh seriously
whether the European balance of power can be maintained, and criticise
the government of the city.


            No, no, I like him not; our span-new burgermaster,
            As he's so bold already, he'll come it thick and faster.
            And for the town, what doth he, pray?
            Gets it not worse then every day!


Certain youngsters have seated themselves beside them in a state of
considerable perplexity, whether they shall be held fast by the wise
conversation of these elders, or shall follow the bewitching sounds of
youthful merriment.

At the next table, a knot of Bauers carry on a zealous discourse, of
which one catches these syllables in passing,--"Oney think o'that, now;
that the thing can run so wi'out bosses. It's got the divil in't's
body, an' that the outlandish folk have fun' out again!" It is the
railroads that have thrown the fat farmers into such a heat, and they
raise themselves into such a fidget with talking of the steam-engines,
that they blow as much smoke out of their earthen pipes, called by the
students _earthly_ pipes, as the engines themselves can send out steam.

But at another table we behold the dear image of youth. The
Handwerksbursch, who treats his maiden with wine and cakes; the school
youth who is there playing off the bursche before them, but looks
round, ever and anon, lest the original that he is counterfeiting be
near, or his teacher, who walking this way might reprove his
presumption; the fresh country maiden, and the gay damsel of the city,
all desire to make themselves amiable, and seek by their tittering and
laughter, to let every one observe that they are capitally entertained
by their swains.

One table is occupied by the students, who, revelling in a rich repast,
now look up at the beauty of the Neckar-Thal, and now mix themselves in
the throng, whispering with this and that maiden, to whom their
shepherds cast frowns like thunderclouds. But careless of this, the
sons of the Muses conduct them forward to the dancing-floor:


            And all already dance like mad--
            Juchhe! Juchhe!
            Juchheisa! Heisa! Ha!
            So goes the fiddle-bow.


Faster and faster goes the music, and ever madder whirls the waltz. In
complete equality and freedom seem here the most opposite elements to
be mingled. The atmosphere is already smothering hot, and clouds of
dost fly up. But that matters not. He that finds it too hot flings off
his coat, and dances in his shirt sleeves; he that does not find the
music keep time, helps it with the stamping of his foot. All seems
totally happy--all unity. But the wine has, meantime, heated their
heads, and suddenly in one corner of the hall rises a terrible hubbub.
The strife has arisen about that maiden who, there weeping, endeavours
to part the combatants. "What would the silly Knoten?" cries a student
Then springs wrathfully forth a brisk tailor. "What be we? Knoten be
we? dirt be we? Who says that, is an ass, and I say it!" A swarm of
students that have rushed into the saloon raise a burst of hearty
laughter. Then blazes the wrath of the Handwerksburschen; "Brother
Hamburger! brother Leipsicer!" they cry. Numbers of them rush together,
and strike with sticks, chair-legs, and bottles, at the little knot of
students furiously, who grimly stand on their defence.

The Bursche shouts--


     "Let each man arm himself like me, with sturdy stang,
      And chase unto destruction the beastly Lumpen gang."
      'Tis said and it is done! Bellona storms on high,
      And the battle is renewed with menace and reply.
                                           _Zachariæ's Renommist_.



But bravery must yield to multitudes.


      They now begin to quit the bloody battle-field,
      Yet slowly draw they off, and scarcely seem to yield;
      And loath unto the base their noble backs to show,
      They whirl their last club at them, as from the ground they go.
                                                           _Ibid_.


Even the fair ones have divided themselves into two parties, and one
detachment wheels off with the overpowered body that they may enjoy the
happiness of wandering homewards on the arm of the Bursche.

This burlesque student song on the Handwerksburschen is very
descriptive of these scenes:


                  GOD GREET THEE, BROTHER STRAUBINGER.

            God greet thee, Brother Straubinger,
              I'am glad to meet thee though;
            Perhaps it is unknown to thee,
              That from Heidelberg I go.
            The master and the mistress,
              Of them I can't complain,
            But with these gents, the students,
              No mortal can contain.

            I lately bought me in the fair,
              A band, red, black, and golden,
            And hung my watch to it, that there
              From falling 't might be holden.
            Fierce as a horse a Bursch appears,
              And at me right he batters;
            He dashed the watch about my ears,
              The riband tore to tatters.[23]

            And as I in the Faulen-Beltz[24]
              Was with my sweetheart sitting,
            He nicknamed me a Knotenpeltz,
              For such fat Besom fitting[25]
            As in the dance I whirled about,
              They 'gan to stamp and rumble;
            The Senius stretched his leg so out,[26]
              That I must o'er it tumble.

            I'll off by Zurich unto Berne,
              And there I think to stay, so;
            And if my sweetheart false should turn,
              She may write to me, and say so.
            I must be stupid as an ass,
              Or as three oxen, fully,
            If I should suffer such a pass
              From this Studenten bully.


We, in conclusion may mention among the summer pleasures of the
student, the game at nine-pins, to which the son of Minerva devotes
many an hour. Yet to describe the various kinds of this game, would
prove, probably, a little wearisome. The student uses the same as all
the other classes of people in Germany, and which are, perhaps, already
familiar to the foreigner.




                              CHAPTER XI.

                   WINTER AMUSEMENTS OF THE STUDENT.


   He who lives out of himself, always does better than he who lives in
    himself.
                                                          _Seume_.


Let us now devote a few pages to the pleasures of winter. If we give a
distinguished place amongst these, to the amusements which the Museum,
and many private circles afford, we must at the same time admit that
particular circumstances prevent the students to any great extent
seeking the latter. But as these circles are easy of access to the
well-bred student even without letters of introduction, if he is at the
pains to seek that introduction himself, we can by no means omit their
mention. In the houses of professors and other leading families of the
place, the student is hospitably received. Reading, music, social
games, and the dance, here furnish an inexhaustible source of
entertainment. Here he finds an opportunity to accomplish himself in
social habits, and by polishing the rough outside to discover that
solid interior which can best be strengthened and perfected by a union
of active intercourse with knowledge; and who will deny that this
desirable condition is alone to be attained by the society of refined
and accomplished women?


      With softest persuasion and gentlest prayers,
      The sceptre of manners sweet Woman still bears;
      Extinguishes discord, which ragingly glows--
      Teaches wild powers that malignantly fight.
      Themselves in her own lovely form to unite,
      And combines what in nature else separately flows.
                                     _Schiller's Duties of Women_.


The student the more gladly joins these circles, as he is sure always
to find some of his companions already there, for the dance-loving host
continually recruits its members from the sons of Minerva. On the other
hand, the Museum presents manifold points of contact between the
students and higher classes of the inhabitants of the city. We again
avail ourselves of some remarks exactly to the point, out of the Halle
Year-Book. The author of the article says, "Heidelberg is only a city
of moderate size, but it contains sufficient elements for a superior
society. In the next place, it has formed itself into various small
circles, into which also the student of good disposition and accordant
taste readily procures admittance, and where he finds himself received
with simple cordiality. Most of the professors, are very accessible to
individual students, and throw in their way opportunities for a more
close literary intimacy; many of them thereby frequently collect round
them large social circles.

"In the next place, many English families, which have taken up their
abode for a time in Heidelberg, offer desirable points of union to
various lively social circles there; and with them vie other strangers,
possessors of estates in the immediate vicinity of the city, amongst
which in this respect is particularly well known the hospitable Stift
Neuberg. Many of the substantial burgers of Heidelberg also endeavour
to furnish those students that seek their acquaintance by letters of
introduction, or otherwise, with the amenities of social exhilaration
and improvement. These opportunities for a worthy enjoyment of life are
accepted by a great part of the students in the best spirit, and to
evident advantage. Walks in company and excursions into the surrounding
country in summer, and musical entertainments in winter, bring the
students into amalgamation with city society, subject their freedom of
thought to the wholesome restraints of good manners, and give to their
enjoyment of life at once scope and modification. But all these
different circles find themselves included and brought together into a
comprehensive social unity, in the Museum. This establishment founded
as a joint-stock property by the inhabitants and professors of the
city, is of high value both to the social life of Heidelberg in
general, and in particular to the student world. For a moderate yearly
subscription, the student becomes a member of this union, and through
that a partaker of its social pleasures; enjoys the advantage of access
to a rich collection of political, scientific, and literary
periodicals, and new works; and is even entitled to a certain
co-operation in the affairs of the union; a portion of the ball-directors,
for instance, being elected from amongst them. The spacious and
handsome suite of apartments in the Museum, which are always open to
the members, give the most preferable opportunities to the students for
having a common table, and for other social meetings, and by this means
brings about a more extensive intimacy and acquaintance amongst these
young people. But especially is the independent manner and estimation
with which they see themselves received in such a union, an incentive
to them to maintain this position with urbanity and moderation; and the
social equality with their teachers which here prevails, far from
diminishing their respect for them, serves only, through the confidence
reposed in them, to elevate and ennoble them. Inconceivable is the
auspicious influence of the Museum on the conduct of the students, and
their good understanding with the professors, and with the whole of the
best society of the city; and the cases are rare in which any one by a
wanton disturbance of the general enjoyment, loses sight of that
discretion which the company expects from him. Truly not all the
students have the taste for these nobler social pleasures, which are
offered to them in so friendly and disinterested a manner. They who
regard the established rules of social manners as a restraint,
incompatible with the enjoyment of their academical freedom, seek less
select circles, where such rules are more freely dispensed with. The
society of the middle classes of Heidelberg, though decent and lively,
yet wants that higher finish which elevates the young man, while it
compels him to watchfulness over himself. The student feels himself
above the society of such circles, and, as only too frequently happens,
he makes them feel his superiority in an unbecoming manner, making them
the butts of his wit, and the objects of his wanton humours. The
Heidelberg citizens have had repeated occasion to rue this overbearing
spirit of the students, and they have never, and can never be able to
establish a more satisfactory and secure relationship with such
society."

But the life of a large city comes near enough to the Heidelberg
students. The Mannheim theatre is chiefly filled by persons from
Heidelberg; the saloons of Mannheim society, in which the exclusiveness
of English high life, and of German aristocracy, appear softened by
French urbanity and South-German good-nature, are not impassable to
him; and the more favoured may, in the little court of the widowed
Grand Duchess Stephanie, become acquainted with the fine yet easy
manners of a circle distinguished by birth and accomplishment.

Many a romance weaves itself here in the intercourse of the social
circles--in the crowd of the ball-room; and strong chains of love often
become fabricated, which conduct the maiden far from the walls of
Heidelberg, and teach her to forget, on a distant hearth, her beautiful
native home. If on a lovely summer's night we linger late on the castle
height, we often, as we return, become the partakers of the enjoyment
of a serenade, the offering which a son of Minerva brings to show to
his chosen one his watchfulness. At a distance we listen to a beautiful
song, whose delivery, full of tenderness and feeling, is supported by
the accompaniment of a guitar.


                               TRUE LOVE.

            When in the gloomy midnight deep
            My solitary watch I keep,
            I think on her I left behind,
            And ask is she still true and kind.

            When I was forced to march away,
            How warm a kiss she gave that day;
            With ribands bright my cap she drest,
            And clasped me to her faithful breast.

            She loves me well, to me is kind,
            Therefore I keep a cheerful mind:
            Through coldest nights my bosom glows
            Whene'er on her my thoughts repose.

            Now by the dim lamp's feeble light,
            Perchance upon thy bed to-night
            Thy thoughts to thy beloved are given,
            With nightly prayer for him to Heaven!

            O, if thou weep'st by grief distressed,
            To think of me with danger prest,
            Be calm, God keeps me every where,
            A faithful soldier is his care!


Or we follow with insatiate ear the accord which sends to us through
the stillness of the night a full concert of wind music. There, under
the window, see we scattered light glimmer, and by degrees perceive the
separate music-desks, round which the dark figures have ranged
themselves. But the third piece is ended, and all sinks back into
the stillness of night. Many a son of the Muses is detained in
Ruperto-Carolo, fast bound by bonds of gentle witchcraft, till the
father's stern behest compels him to tear himself from this paradise.


                             THE DEPARTURE.

      What rings and what sings in the streets so down there?
      Open the windows, ye maids so fair.
      'Tis the Bursche, away he windeth,
      The Comitat him attendeth.

      The others go shouting and wave their hats round,
      With ribands and flowers all glowingly crowned;
      But the Burschè, he loves not this riot,
      In the centre goes pale and quiet.

      Loud clash now the tankards, bright sparkles the wine,
      "Drink out, and again drink, dear brother mine!"
      "With the farewell-wine there outfloweth,
      What so deep in my heart now gloweth."

      The very last house which they go by--
      A maiden looks down from the window so high;
      Fain hides she her tearful gushes
      With wallflowers rich and sweet rose-bushes.

      The very last house that they go by
      The Burschè there lifteth up his eye;
      Then sinks it, his pain betraying,--
      His hand on his heart now laying.

      "Sir Brother! and hast thou then no bouquet?
      See, flowers there are nodding and waving so gay!
      Hillo! thou loveliest dear one,--
      Of thy nosegays now fling us here one!"

      'Ye Brothers! what can that nosegay do?
      I now have no loving Liebschen like you.
      In the sun it will droop and wither;--
      The wind blow it hither and thither!'

      And farther and farther with clang and song!
      And sadly listens that maiden long.
      "O, wo! and the youth removeth,
      Whom only my heart still loveth.--

      "Here stand I, ah! in my love profound,
      With roses and with wallflowers around--
      And he for whom all I would sever,
      He's gone--and gone for ever!"


So marches he forth, and--"other cities, other maidens!"


If the stranger suffer himself, by his hunger after fresh air, to be
led away, in the days of a strong winter, to the hills above
Heidelberg, how monotonous and wild appears to him there nature in her
funeral robes. The mountains, the valleys, all wrapt in that white
winding sheet, are silent. From a distance only comes a heavy sound, as
the ice-covering of the Neckar is heaved and rifted by the combating
flood that rushes beneath it. That feeling of solitude seizes him, and
he follows the course of a small stream which will, however, conduct
him again to the banks of the Neckar. The water, whose course he has
followed, has wonderfully wrought the leaves and the grass into
fantastical ice-forms; while, above him, hang from the rocks enormous
icicles, glittering in the wintry light like crystal daggers. Again he
finds himself by the mirror-like surface of the wintry flood, and
behold! the uniformity of nature has only enabled man to multiply his
pleasures. A glad multitude here is full of life and activity. With
delight the eye follows the skilful skater, as he now, with wonderful
rapidity flies right forward, now winds in graceful sweeps and circles
through the human mass. He moves so freely and easily, that his art
would appear quite destitute of art, did we not see the learner in his
first attempts tumbling at every trial, till exhausted, he stands and
watches, with envious eye, the evolutions of the practised student. The
ice-field becomes every moment fuller and fuller, till the strongly
congealed surface can scarcely support the hundreds which crowd upon
it. And there comes a troop of blooming ladies, hastening down the
steep bank of the Neckar. They descend the narrow path, slippery with
frozen snow, cautiously, and a troop of their worshippers fly to
receive them, place them triumphantly in the chair-sledges, and pushing
them before them, vie with each other in sending them, with flying
speed, over the crystal ice-plain far away.

Nothing can well make so vivid an impression on the foreigner,
especially on the Englishman, as the sledging processions, which, as
soon as the snow is trodden hard enough to bear, may be daily seen
issuing from Heidelberg. Sometimes we see individual sledges, which are
of striking appearance, gliding rapidly through the streets; then
greater sledge-parties, which the students make amongst themselves, or
in association with some of the inhabitants. A troop of fore-riders,
with the thundering cracks of their heavy whips, announce the approach
of the sledge of the lady of honour, drawn by four horses. Then follows
a long train of sledges, each with two horses, and each containing only
one lady and gentleman. These sledge-parties afford much amusement to
the students, and opportunities for many a frolic, and the Chores vie
in outshining each other in ingeniously planned and splendidly achieved
processions. In earlier times masked sledge-parties were the order of
the day; but, in consequence of many well-known and distinguished
individuals of the university city being represented, or rather
misrepresented, they are now formally forbidden. Even the ladies, and
the venerable heads of the senate, were not secure from the
caricaturing of the students. Thus a stranger related to me, with great
horror, that he had met a great company of ladies and gentlemen in
sledges; all the ladies had wafted to him hand-kisses, and, _horribile
dictu!_ at the very next confectioner's, the ladies, with evident
delight, had each drunk a glass of brandy!

We recollect a winter, some years ago, that was particularly
distinguished by these pranks. In the first place, one of the Chores
set out a sledge procession, which was imposing from the number of its
sledges and the brilliance of its torches, which were carried by the
whole assembled body of Boot-foxes. But this was speedily cast into the
shade by another. The second Chore celebrated a Bauer's wedding, riding
and driving in numerous sledges, in the Sunday attire of Bauers and
Bauerinen, the country people and their wives, old and young, masked,
into a neighbouring village, the sledge of the feigned bride and
bridegroom being richly garlanded, and there, this fictitious pair--a
couple of disguised students--were solemnly conducted through the
ceremony of a marriage. A third Chore then, in order to strike out
something more piquant, undertook a voyage by land. A number of Neckar
boats were secured on sledges. They were all bravely rigged and
equipped with sails, masts, and cordage, and sailors were in full
activity, each crew zealous to maintain the honour of their ship. Some
of them were seen with huge spy-glasses looking out ahead in the
streets, to descry any dangerous rocks that might lie in their track,
which might obstruct or fatally terminate their voyage. And behold! all
was suddenly at a stand--the sign of a Beer-Kneip was the rock on which
they struck. All hands were now busy in trying to rescue the ship from
this perilous situation, and the way they went to work was to blow it
with a vast number of pairs of bellows, in order to send a very tempest
of wind into the sails. The captain gave his commands, in masterly
style, through his huge speaking-trumpet, and at length the vessel
heaved off, and all was quickly again under sail, the whole body
singing--


                       THE GALLANT SHIP IS GOING.

              The gallant ship is going,
              The strong east wind is blowing,
            The far-off fading strand
                Shows no longer,
                Yet glows stronger
            Love unto my native land.

              Billows dark blue foaming,
              Tell me, are ye coming
             From that dear distant strand?
                Let them flow then,
                Since they go then
            Back unto my native land!

              And as the billow breaks there,
              Love's heart and ear yet wakes there;
            O speed to her away!
                Kindly meet her,
                Kindly greet her?
            For of me you've much to say!

              Seas from thee may tear me,
              But my thoughts still bear me
            To thee in that dear land;
                What I sing now,
                Winds shall wing now,
            Till it reach that far-off strand.

              When high the waves are rearing,
              And wild the storm's careering,
            Then think I but on thee;
                Who dost change not,
                Who dost range not,
            And no storms can trouble me!

              All the songs I yet may sing thee,
              Other, nearer winds shall wing thee,
            Soon the port will lie in view;
                These I'll sing thee,
                These I'll bring thee,
            And with them a heart that's true!


Another winter the luxury of this amusement had advanced so far that,
from beginning at first with one horse, the students had now arrived at
having from six to eight in each sledge, and the academical senate felt
itself called upon to put a stop to this extravagant proceeding. It
forbade them in future to sledge with so many horses. What a set-out
was seen the next day! An old superannuated hack was harnessed to the
most miserable sledge that the city could furnish, and dragged it along
with the last remains of his strength. In this neat equipage were
packed together a dozen students, almost upon one another's shoulders;
and if the wretched beast, scarcely capable of putting one foot beyond
another, was disposed to stand still, he was urged to further exertion
by a horribly ugly, humpbacked, and limping ostler, going before him,
and holding before his nose a most fragrant and ravishing lock of hay.
At length they reached the first inn, where they called for a choppin
of beer, had it divided into twelve glasses, and thus, with about a
spoonful each, attempted to quench their thirst. Here they were
encountered by the inexorable beadle, or poodle, as they style him, and
commanded to withdraw so flagrant a satire on the worshipful senate's
decree. On the following day a modest sledge was drawn slowly through
the street where this stern enforcer of academical laws resided, in
which sate a poodle, whose mouth a student held close with his hand,
while another offered him a crown dollar. Not content with this
significant emblem, which held up the _official_ poodle to suspicion,
as though he too might have his mouth stopped by a sufficient motive,
in the evening came a crowd of boys, following, in wonder, two
students, who, to avoid falling under the stringent restrictions of the
senate, had adopted a new mode of sledging. One lay down on his back
sledgeways, and being drawn to some distance, by his legs, by his
companion; then arose, and drew his comrade in the same fashion, the
whole being attended by a train of torches, so that all the world
might see it. But enough of these mad pranks; these were in past
times. The sons of the Muses are now contented to distinguish their
sledging-parties by their numbers rather than their extravagance, and
instead of writhing under senatorial restraints, put on themselves, the
pleasant restraint of reason and good taste, and furnishing a holiday
spectacle to the city, enjoy themselves a day of social hilarity.

We have stated that after dinner the student seeks his coffeehouse, and
is not ashamed with a billiard party or with a game of cards to kill an
hour or two. The last amusement particularly will many of them only too
passionately pursue; and indeed Play, at the bank, as in Wiesbaden, or
Baden-Baden, whither they make excursions, has plunged many of them
already into great trouble. The student has invented many games at
cards, which are played, partly for money, partly for beer, and bear
peculiar names, as Cerevies, Pereat, Schlauch, etc. When the student
has in the evening visited his kneip, whither we will presently join
him, he has then brought his day's work famously to a close, and the
reader will join in the chorus when he sings--


                  Thus we students,--you may see so,--
                    Daily fun-fall, blithe, uproarious,
                  Burschen ever, could it be so!
                    For the Bursche is ever glorious!




                              CHAPTER XII.

        THE STUDENT'S EVENING PARTY, WITH ALL ITS CONVERSATIONS,
               STORIES, DISCUSSIONS, SONGS, AND CUSTOMS.

            My spirit with pleasure now fain would I fill,
            And blithe little images gather at will:
            Understand--all poetic--I'm young but the while,
            And most actively study the humorous style.
                                          _Renommist of Zachariæ_.


At the time from which we seek to borrow these pictures of student
life, there lived in Heidelberg the young musician Hoffmann. He had
taken refuge in Ruperto-Carolo from the petty intrigues of the
theatrical world, in which occupying a place in the orchestra, he had
moved long enough in a neighbouring greater city to become thoroughly
weary of it. His creative spirit, his glowing fancy, a certain poetical
style, marked him out and gave promise that he would one day enrich
that noble art of music, into whose depths he strove enthusiastically
to penetrate, with no ordinary performances. The means only had been
wanting to ripen in him, taking, as he did, the most lively interest in
every artistical and scientific pursuit, to the most beautiful
developement, the rich abundance of his talents. How could it then be
otherwise than that he should now find himself so happy in the midst of
the congenial life and movement of that university city, and in the
enjoyment of its natural beauties; that he should be transported to
find so many points of agreement between himself and the student youth.
He felt the truth of Goethe's words:--"This academical life, even if we
cannot boast ourselves of having partaken of its peculiar diligence,
yet affords incalculable advantages for every species of
accomplishment, since we are perpetually surrounded by men who
either possess knowledge, or seek it, so that in such an atmosphere,
even while ourselves are unconscious of it, we draw actual
nourishment."--_Wahrheit und Dichtung_.

The amiability of the young Hoffmann, and his social talents, soon
gathered a circle of friends around him, and now they all came together
to celebrate joyfully his birthday. His invitations, which he clad in
various forms of doggerel rhyme, having been sent round, were received
with gladness, since every one felt that he had never known ennui in
the house of Madame H., No. 9, since Hoffmann had resided there.

The room itself was of so handsome a size; the platform which raised it
in one part, gave it a peculiar aspect, and on this elevation he was
accustomed to solace himself with his solitary music. It also afforded
Hoffmann a particular pleasure to preserve all memorials of friendship
and pleasant times carefully, and to decorate his room with them. Thus,
therefore, many such things as masks, bouquets, ribands, and sketches
made by himself and by his friends, tastefully adorned the room. In a
word, the apartment was so agreeable, that every one speedily felt
himself at home in it. The tea-table was ready set out, the pipes
filled, and a cheerful fire flickered in the stove, round which the
already arrived guests had grouped themselves, and heard with pleasure
the dismal northeast wind whistle and roar without.

The reader has already been made acquainted with the student
Freisleben, and with Eckhard likewise, under the name of the Friend. We
shall therefore only remark, that they and the greater number of the
other guests had appeared in their morning-gowns; we restrain ourselves
from describing their exteriors farther, lest we should fall under the
suspicion that we have in our eye actual and particular persons.

Freisleben was in his behaviour grave, and somewhat introverted,
especially in large companies; but he became, amongst familiar friends,
especially when he was upon favourite subjects, open and lively. His
views of life were serious; and he was accustomed to conceal them
diligently from the eyes of others, and if any sought to look into him
a little more than was agreeable, he would sometimes set on and chatter
a good deal of mystifying nonsense. What others had no conception of,
either in him or concerning him, his familiar friends, however, knew
right well, amongst whom was Hoffmann. They knew that under his quiet
exterior, lay hidden a mind peculiarly alive to all that was good and
beautiful; yea, that his outward coldness was at the greatest in the
very moment that his spirit was the most deeply stirred. If he hated or
loved any one, that knew he very ill to conceal. For the rest, he was
tolerably firm in his principles, and knew how at the right time to act
for himself and his friends; and his failing was only in the time of
inactivity a too great weakness of resolve, and a certain romantic turn
of thought, which in the company of amiable ladies brought his peace
too easily into danger. He had pursued the study of medicine by no
means with a onesided view.

His neighbour, the Herr von Kronen, a native of H----, was to a certain
degree, his opposite; and yet the two agreed right well together.
Kronen had something formal and reserved in his disposition, without
being unfriendly. He carried himself with secure tact in all society,
and his sagacity enabled him to see through every one, and treat them
aright, without seeming for that purpose in the least to have altered
his own behaviour. He was far from troubling himself about the
approbation of others, and there were very few people of whose good
opinion he was desirous. He was a searching inquirer, and permitted no
impression to fix itself upon his mind till his understanding had
examined it on all sides. He was cautious in his judgment, and was
thoroughly candid towards every sufficiently intimate acquaintance. He
had met with many bitter experiences in life, and was once cruelly
deceived by a lady. Thence originated his dislike of all women, which,
however, he gratified by making court to them all, and turning the most
foolish of them into ridicule. On this head he came often into
contention with Freisleben, who, on his side, ranked women very high,
and had a great opinion of their general worth. His favourite study was
history; and he had obvious talents for a good diplomatist.

On the contrary, Eckhard was a jurist, good, true, honest, and had a
practical look. He was always joyous, and never averse to the
enjoyments of life. He stood freely and firmly by his friends,
especially when it came to a duel. His failing was an all too-great
Pfalzish bluntness. He promised one day to become a right able man of
business.

This was the company which had seated itself round the stove, and
waited the arrival of the rest. They entertained themselves with
scientific subjects, and had got down so deep into them, that they
scarcely noticed how two new guests came rattling up the steps. With
much bustle and noise appeared now the Jurist Enderlin, and the student
of medicine Pittschaft, whom at first it was not very easy to
recognise, so famously had he wrapped himself in coats, morning coats,
cloaks, and fur cap, against the cold.

As to Enderlin, every one knew that he was a good, inconsiderate
fellow, who was constantly merry even almost to dissipation; with a
piercing voice and a Pomeranian gibberish of a dialect; was perpetually
disputing, and only too ready to rush into a quarrel. His study,
jurisprudence, occasioned him no sleepless nights.

Enderlin.--Good evening, gentlemen! I have the honour to present to you
the great physician from Petersburg. I must beseech you to help me to
free him from some of the ballast that he has loaded himself with, lest
the disrespectful wind should so hurry his slow and reverend steps that
he might have been taken for a locomotive engine.

Eckhard now assisted Enderlin to wind their friend out of his wrappers,
as an onion is stripped peel after peel. Rind after rind was
abstracted, till it was feared that nothing at all would be left. But
the fear was vain, for what of Pittschaft finally was rolled out, it
required no microscope to discover.

Pittschaft far exceeded his friend in good nature, and was accustomed
often to become his joke. Yet he was one of the few, who, although they
often become the object of much merriment and laughter, yet never sink
in the liking and respect of their friends thereby. New schemes and
plans were continually running through his head, and his especial
pleasure was to reconcile again to each other, friends between whom any
distance or misunderstanding had arisen. He treated all matters with
great importance; had many especial friends; and decided upon things
even when he knew very little about them, in the most learned manner.
Wavering in his opinions, he followed willingly the counsel of his
friends, and with as good will gave counsel to others, and that even
without ever being asked. It often sorely troubled him that, though he
had always the very best intentions, he seldom could bring to bear what
he attempted, yet he soon comforted himself again, through the natural
and acquired endowments and talents which he was conscious of
possessing.

Hoffmann.--Where then have you left our Briton, who is seldom so
dilatory when a cup of tea is in question?

Pittschaft.--He is so busy now studying the art of smoking that he is
gone to a bookseller's to purchase a compendium upon it.

Eckhard.--How do you like our new protegé, Mr. Traveller, then?

Pittschaft.--O, that is a regularly clever fellow. He seems so very
desirous to strike up a friendship with me. We have already exchanged
our views upon many weighty matters.

Hoffmann.--Without doubt thou hast been the only winner by the
exchange, for the Englishman is a really amiable fellow. He takes a
much more ready interest in every thing than his countrymen are wont to
do; and he pleases us especially in this, that he knows how to value
what is foreign; that he does not, as his countrymen commonly do,
estimate the worth of a thing entirely by its resemblance, or
dissimilarity to what is English. He has a sound judgment, and puts his
questions in that manner, that one has a pleasure in answering them.

Von Kronen.--Yes, I wo'nt have the English inveighed against. They are
an able people, of good kernel, and one must pardon them their
singularities.

Hoffmann.--Only it is a pity that the taste for music is nearly lost to
them. I have often been vexed with it. When they admire a musical
performance, it generally happens that it is only because it is by some
celebrated master.

Eckhard.--They must be excused in many cases, because they are so
completely the slaves of ceremonial; but if they only come awhile
amongst us, they soon can unlearn that, and become in society as free a
people as they are already a political one.

Enderlin.--They are famous fellows these English, and box like the
devil. Nothing would give me so much pleasure as to have a round with
one of them for once. We would see, however, whether I could not upset
him with my Pomerlandish head.

Freisleben.--I have made the acquaintance of many of the Britons, whose
society afforded me a genuine pleasure. Their noble independence, the
cool courage, the practical eye, their love of freedom, their
straightforwardness, make them worthy of esteem, although one sometimes
sees these shining qualities disfigured by egotism and indifference. Of
the women, I will not speak. "On the Rhine, are the ladies very fine."
"In Saxony also, the lovely maidens grow." That is all very good; but
in England, I believe, were I there, I should fall in love at least
once every day.

Von Kronen.--Ah! now we're off on the high road to sentimentality! It
will not be long before he will give it you line and verse--"how man
can only be ennobled by intercourse with most-to-be-adored woman." He
will sing you "the joys of the beloved;" "the noble resolves, which out
of an heart," etc. etc., and other such nonsense. No, these women are
wicked creatures, that play with us, as Master Flea in Hoffmann
says--as the cat with the mouse. But when thou hast learned to reverse
that play, then art thou the true master. Recollect what Lichtenberg
says,--The expressions--"to give a heart," "to give favour," are
poetical expressions. Maidens don't give their hearts away, they sell
them for money, or honour, or they exchange them for others, in which
exchange they either have, or fancy they have, the advantage.

Freisleben.--He who honoureth not woman, and woman's mind to----

Von Kronen.--Phoh! cease all that. If thou dost not give over I shall
run into the street that the wind may blow the stuff out of my ears.
This is the consequence of thy associating so much of late with that
Krusenstern, who makes such an everlasting sentimental face, like a
goose that has had the feathers plucked out of its living body. They
should stuff him with Indian corn, and hang him in the smoke, that they
might grow him a good liver, with its appendage, a gall-bladder.

Freisleben.--Thou judgest to-day, contrary to thy wont, rashly upon my
friend. Thy judgment is false and unjust; but that arises from thy
knowing his history. The poor fellow is deeply to be pitied.

Pittschaft.--Freisleben, let us hear the story. We are all curious; and
thou knowest it will remain amongst us friends.

Hoffmann.--See there! At length appears Mr. Traveller! Good evening.
Take off your things. Seat yourself by the stove: here is a pipe, and
here the Fidibus.

Mr. Traveller.--Best thanks! Ha, it is savagely cold without; but here,
thank God, it is warm and comfortable. But I have disturbed the
gentlemen!

Hoffmann.--Not at all. Freisleben is about to tell the story of an
unfortunate student. I fancy you would take an interest in it too.

Mr. Traveller.--I am all ear.


                  STORY OF KRUSENSTERN AND AVENSLEBEN.

Freisleben.--Krusenstern, whose pale and wasted figure you now see
passing silently about, was not always so. Once he was one of the
handsomest students that the walls of Ruperto-Carolo ever enclosed.
Every endowment that honours man, adorned him; that, even his envier
must admit Nature had richly crowned him with her gifts; and the
education he, sprung from one of the richest mercantile families of the
city of N----, enjoyed, had brought those gifts to their highest
perfection; but he had one shadow-side, and this was his choleric
temperament; a failing sufficient to plunge him into ruin. Similar
studies, similar sentiments united him in a strong bond of friendship
with Von Avensleben, the only son of a house of ancient nobility. It
was now in the year before his examination that he first saw and became
acquainted with the sister of his friend; a most amiable lady, who then
resided some time with her parents in the city of Heidelberg. His manly
nature, free from all rudeness; his attractive demeanour, which a fine
feeling of propriety pervaded; and his finished education, won him the
heart of the damsel, and he testified to me that he had found in her
that ideal which he had before continually sought in vain. I had the
happiness to know the amiable family of the young lady, and recall with
a melancholy joy the time which I spent amongst these good, and then so
happy, people.

The widow Von Avensleben was as much distinguished for her high
accomplishment as for her most unassuming disposition. She was well
acquainted with the master works of German and foreign literature; and
her knowledge of the world, and her nice tact, gave to her conversation
a peculiar charm. She embraced her children in her innermost heart, her
constant care was to smooth out every slightest trace of discord
between them; and if she had a failing, it was her too great indulgence
of them.

Amalia was the eldest daughter. She might be compared to one of those
noble metals, which, because not vainly glittering on the surface,
escape the eyes of ordinary men: but the noble ore conceals not its
peculiar qualities from the knowing eye, which the more he observes,
the more beautifully they discover themselves, and satisfy him that the
pure metal requires no further refinement. In personal beauty inferior
to her sister, the maiden had earlier advanced to a reflection upon
herself and others, and her clear understanding enabled her to arrive
at noble and free views of the true worth of outward things, and of her
own mind. Thus she had early demonstrated that she was capable of the
greatest sacrifices for her friends--for her friends, who were chosen
after mature consideration, and in which choice womanly sagacity and
fine feeling were her guides. Her youthful timidity gave place, as she
first became conscious of her worth, to a noble assurance. She judged
others with indulgence, but hesitated not to speak out what was an
acknowledged truth, even when that truth was not flattering to another.
Thus showed she herself constantly as a noble and true soul, which one
must continue to love more and more.

The little Maria was not so circumspect as her sister. As a lovely
butterfly, she fluttered from flower to flower, extracting from each
the best honey. Her vivacity led her to embrace whatever was good and
beautiful with heartiness; but exactly because every thing is not good
and beautiful, was indispensable to her a change of the flowers from
which she drew nourishment. She knew how to show herself friendly and
full of kindness to all who felt themselves compelled to pay to her the
tribute of her love-worthiness, without tyrannically abusing her magic
wand. But, when she sometimes saw that the lovely and brilliant side of
a thing had too much biassed her frequently too predominant feeling;
when she found herself deceived in and discontented with what she had,
in her too enthusiastic fancy, taken up, would she painfully lament
over the dark side of life. Certainly, every one who had once seen the
little elegant being, as she charmingly and sweetly moved in society;
every one who had glanced on her fine and noble features, and into her
speaking eyes, must have loved her; and when she, moreover, sung with
the clear metal of her voice, one of the beautiful songs which my
friend accompanied on the piano, every one was enchanted.

Thus were they happy people; and the rapidly approaching completion of
his university life, his rare acquirements, and the protection of men
high in the government, gave my friend the promise of a near and a yet
happier future. Ah! who could have thought that the peace of this happy
family should be so horribly destroyed; that this lovely bond should
have been so cruelly rent asunder! An inconsiderate action of the young
Von Avensleben converted this paradise into a hell.

He had accidentally received intelligence of a serenade which
Krusenstern proposed to give to his loved one. This excited him to an
ill-considered joke. As his friend glided near to the house with the
nocturnal music, and standing near in the shade of another house,
delighted himself with the imagination of the joy that his attention
would give to Maria, Avensleben showed himself at the window, clad in a
woman's night-dress, and threw a hand-kiss to Krusenstern. The wrath of
Krusenstern at this foolish exposure of his lady to the ridicule of the
musicians was furious, and a challenge to a duel with pistols was the
consequence. No representations were able to bring him from this
terrible resolve; and a journey which the family of Von Avensleben
made, in order to spend a few days on a neighbouring estate of theirs,
afforded the sundered friends an opportunity to compass their unhappy
intention.

They drew in the early morning to the appointed place. Krusenstern with
his seconds was first there--a spot well known to travellers by the
name of the Engelswiese, or Angel's Meadow, lying up in the woods above
the Neckar, on the opposite side to the city, and showing its pleasant
green area belted in by the forest, to wanderers about the castle,
though invisible to the valley below. He walked in silence to and fro,
and gazed down upon the city, which lay gloriously illuminated by the
morning sun. He could even distinguish the house where he had enjoyed
the purest and deepest pleasures; he thought over the happy past; and
anxious forebodings of a dark and perdition-blasted future rose up
before him. The curtain was only too soon to be drawn aside, which his
eyes were not yet permitted to penetrate. His antagonist appeared on
the ground; the old resentment drove out every softer emotion; the
seconds measured out the distance, the pistols were loaded, the word
given--Von Krusenstern shot--but it became night before his eyes, as in
the same moment he saw his antagonist spring on high, and then fall to
the ground. He had received his death-wound.

Who shall describe the situation in which poor Krusenstern found
himself!--who the misery of the friends of both! He was immovable to
all persuasions to flight, and was committed by the magistrate to whom
he had surrendered himself of his own accord, to the university prison
until further inquiry.

The family of the fallen youth were immediately written to, to tell
them, that, on account of some degree of indisposition, he would not be
able immediately to follow them, as had been agreed, and a friend of
the house undertook the sorrowful task of opening to them the dreadful
intelligence. But the most terrible part was yet to come. Von
Avensleben was highly beloved amongst the students, and it was resolved
to attend his funeral with a torch-train; and that the wretched
prisoner, who, during all this time had sate brooding in a stupor of
grief without listening to any one, might not perceive it, they
determined that the funeral should take place a day earlier than usual.
I was with the unhappy man on this eventful evening, endeavouring to
comfort him, and to withdraw his thoughts from the dark pictures of his
imagination. The shutters of the little room were closed, but a tone of
the dismal mourning music struck his ear as the funeral train passed by
the end of the street, along the Hauptstrasse, or High Street, of the
city. "My friend! they bear him to the grave!" cried he with a terrible
voice, and rushed to the window. I endeavoured to hold him back, but he
tore himself loose from my grasp with giant strength, and bursting open
the shutters struck his head against the iron grating. There flared the
sullen glow of the torches, and the tone of the trumpets quivered
through my vitals. With ghostlike, terrible, and distorted countenance,
he gazed after the melancholy train;--"I--I have murdered him! the
good, the true friend! There! I see him with the bleeding wound,
crying, 'Wo!' over me! Oh God! Oh God! thou has cast me off! Maria!
Maria! what have I done to thee! Seize me, ye spirits of hell! Tear me
away from the pure angel-form!" So he raved on, till, exhausted, he
fell back into the chamber.

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 Schütz, 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 Athenæum, 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 scholæ, 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; Tübingen 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; Königsberg 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 Göttingen 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 Bützow,
which was in 1789 united to that of Rostock. The Duke Karl Eugen of
Würtemberg 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 Göttingen 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 verè æstimo,
      Quando et formosos sæpe inveni pessimos,
      Et turpi facie multos cognovi optimus.
                                                  _Phædrus_.


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-Märchen;" 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 Stammbücher. 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 KRÄHWINKLER LANDSTURM.

   But march you slow there before, but still march slow there before,
   Or the Krähwinkler 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 Krähwinkle 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, ça, 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;
            Thüce spring but silver and the cobalt ore there,
              And mischief-making gold.

            Thüringia'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 Bürger-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, Türk, 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 BÜRGER 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 Bürger-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
Bürger 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 Winkelquartè![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."


            And then comes the tug of strife,
            With the Pandects, life for life.
            Then after, examen, office calls, and then for marriage.

              An unbounded jollity, etc.
            I'm a great philosopher, of the school of Hegel,
            And his system follow I to the life.
            The Beadle is upset, the Philistine is teased;
            Goes all wrong--the Prorector is appeased.


_Spoken_.--"Well, Sir! last night you have again cudgelled and
floored five watchmen; and for this you must spend four weeks in the
Carcer."--"Your Magnificence, I think nothing of that!"--"You will go
on cudgelling watchmen till you get the Consilium abeundi."--"Youth
must sow its wild oats;--that's an old rule. Your Magnificence was
young once: certainly it's a good while ago; but spite of this, I hope
one of these days to become an honest, brave fellow, and do service to
my Fatherland, and become a special honour to your Prorectorate."


            Thereupon drops he a tear;
            Thinks of his youth--"Ah! it was dear!"
            Gives me an examen summa cum laude.

              An unbounded jollity, etc.


Happy are they who carry on with them this free and cheerful
disposition into after-life, which for most of those who now live so
gaily and happily at the university, brings an arduous succession of
labours loaded with cares and fatigues, which, however, sometimes leave
as their reward at the end of their career of life, a consciousness of
having discovered a certain portion of truth, and of having been able
to benefit their fellow-citizens. Student-life thus belongs to those
things which can come only once in our existence, but which are on that
very account the fullest of happiness, and must often extend their
influence so far as at least to refresh by their memory a later,
solemn, and joyless life. The songs of a happy youth accompany him who
has entered on the more serious path of his existence, and their melody
is able to bring him back for a moment now and then into the dream of
his young years. With a song of sorrow the student too, follows to the
grave the brother who departed this life, and then turns from the image
of death, and rejoices that he yet longer can enjoy the happy Burschen
period.


                           GAUDEAMUS IGITUR.

                        Gaudeamus igitur
                        Juvenesdum sumus;
                        Post jucundam juventutem,
                        Post molestam senectutem,
                        Nos habebit humus.

                        Ubi sunt, qui ante nos
                        In mundo fuere?
                        Vadite ad superos,
                        Transite ad inferos,
                        Ubi jam fuere.

                        Vita nostra brevis est,
                        Brevi finietur;
                        Venit mors velociter;
                        Rapit nos atrociter;
                        Nemini parcetur.

                        Vivat academia,
                        Vivant professores,
                        Vivat membrum quodlibet,
                        Vivant membra quælibet;
                        Semper sint in flore.

                        Vivant omnes virgines,
                        Faciles, formosæ;
                        Vivant et mulieres,
                        Vivant et mulieres
                        Bonæ, laboriosæ.

                        Vivat et respublica,
                        Et qui illam regit;
                        Vivat nostra civitas,
                        Mecenatum caritas,
                        Quæ nos hic protegit.

                        Pereat tristitia,
                        Pereant osores;
                        Pereat diabolus,
                        Quivis anti-burschius
                        Atque irrisores.




                              CHAPTER XV.

         DRINKING CUSTOMS OF STUDENT LIFE, ANCIENT AND MODERN.

            Seize the glittering wine-cup there!
            See ye not, no purply winking,
            Blood of nature, rich and rare?
            Let us grasp it, boldly drinking,
            That a fire-strength may glow
            Through each vein--a new creation!
            Sacred is of wine the flow--
            Is of youth the glad elation!
                                                   _Uhland_.


Have the gods drunk nectar!--the gods, exempt from all the cares of
mortal existence, and shall then poor mankind be envied the enjoyment
of their earthly nectar? No; not without cause was it celebrated by all
the ancient poets. Even the great Reformer himself joined in its
praise; and Horace says--


                        Narratur et prisci Catonis,
                        Sæpe mero caluisse virtus.


Then come the moralists truly and say, "You should not purposely throw
yourselves into an artificial gladness; the true gladness comes from
within." Very true; and the genuine healing of sickness comes from
within, and you shall and cannot subdue it by art? It is therefore that
the Turks believe that you ought not to assist nature in her marvellous
operations by a healing means. If that be your faith, do as the Turks
do, and drink no wine. But have we not thus a thousand things which are
to a certain degree necessary to our well-being, necessary to preserve
the proper tone of mind and body? And would you blindly condemn all
these? Wherefore then do you imagine that wine was made? Would you
banish all poetry out of life, and say


            Who then would cheat himself with phantom shapes,
            That with a borrowed charm do clothe existence,
            And with a false possession follow Hope?
                                                       _Schiller_.


Will you do that? Then, indeed, must you banish wine; for it is, so to
say, an incarnate poetry. For if it were not that, it were nothing to
us; and to whomsoever it is not that, him counsel we to refrain, and to
hand it over to other and happier mortals. But think well on it ere you
banish all poetry out of the world.


            The roseate-tinted veil of dreams
            Falls from Life's countenance of pallid gloom,
            And the world showeth as it is--a tomb.
                                                       _Schiller_.


Who, then, would wish to live in such a world? No; we value the wine
which calls forth the poetry of the inner man of him who is not totally
abandoned of the Muses. But you, perhaps, reprobate the enjoyment of
wine as too ignoble and material. But is it then the material portion
of the wine which confers on us its witchcraft? No; it is the fine
spirit, and that ethereal life which the German calls the flower of the
wine. They ascend to the exhausted brain, and brace the relaxed chords.
Know you then whether the strength which gives to life poetry and fresh
grace, may not be one and the same? Whether the strength which is here
bound to the material substratum, be not the same which there seizes
thee mightily in the creations of Shakspeare? whether it be not the
same which lives in the accord of the violoncello; whether it be not
the same which dwells so entrancingly in the voice of the beloved? Yes,
the spirits of the wine are related to others; and when they discover
their brothers in the breasts of men, so combine they vigorously, and
bursting their bonds, rush forth into active operation. All those noble
feelings which had long, perhaps, by their possessor, who had
experienced the bitter deceits of life, been beaten down and slept in
obscurity--now, touched by the magic wand of wine, start again from
their tomb. But when the spirits of the wine find there only strange
and ignoble associates, then raise they with them a fierce conflict, in
order from such guests of hell to free man; whose difference from all
other beings, says Goethe, consists in this--that he be noble, helpful,
and good! Therefore despise not wine, which is capable of accomplishing
such rare ends, which can raise phantasies such as were dreamed in the
Rathskeller at Bremen.[36] No; we acknowledge the wisdom of him who
gave the wine to mankind, and of the good old patriarch who so
thankfully received it.


                               OLD NOAH.

            Noah from the ark had got,
            The Lord came to him on the spot;
            He smelt his offering in the wind,
            And said to thee I will be kind.
            And since a pious house thou art,
            Thyself shall name the gracious part.

            Then Noah answered, as he stood,
            "Dear Lord, this water smacks not good.
            Therefore I, poor old man, would fain
            Some different kind of drink obtain,
            Since that there hath been drowned therein
            All sinful beasts, and men of sin."

            To Paradise, God stretched his hand,
            And gave him thence a vine-stock grand;
            He gave him counsel good and right,
            Said, "Tend thou this with all thy might."
            He him instructed,--so, and so,--
            Till Noah's joy no bounds did know.

            Both wife and child did Noah call,
            His servants and his house-folks all.
            He planted vineyards all about--
            For, trust me, Noah was no lout;
            Built cellars then, and pressed the wine,
            And tunned it into hogsheads fine.

            Old Noah was a pious man;
            Soon to a row his barrels ran.
            To God's high praise he drained each cask,
            Nor deemed it, faith, a heavy task.
            He drank, thereafter, as appears,
            Three hundred yet and fifty years.

            A knowing man thence see it will,
            That wine well used, can do no ill.
            And farther,--that no Christian more
            Into his wine will water pour,--
            Because there hath been drowned therein,
            All sinful beasts, and men of sin.


The Germans never despised their cups. Tacitus, in his time, said of
them--"To drink day and night brings disgrace to no one." Tacitus
might, in truth, have said pretty much the same of his own people. If
in the beginning they mixed their wine with water, this is not to be
taken as the fact in an after period. Who does not recollect the son of
Cicero, the most celebrated drinker of his time, with whose exploits in
tippling scarcely the Germans could match themselves, stout drinkers as
they were? It is well known that the ancient Germans transacted their
most important affairs when they were elate with Bacchus, and
reconsidered them, the next day, with a sober understanding. This
custom they retained, in many places, during the Middle Ages, and this
was the case in the free city of Bremen. Wine and song have maintained
their standing in every true Brotherhood, and this still continues to
be the practice in Germany. This ancient German custom then, least of
all could be expected to be abandoned in Burschendom, and their songs
are, for the most part, sung over the cup.

We may here find a place for some words of Schluck's persiflage on the
_Burschen-Comment_.

"The songs which are sung by the Commerses are called Burschen songs,
and besides the students, nobody may sing them--since they,

"1. Are only composed in honour of the studentship; and,

"2. Are chiefly composed in Latin, as the language belonging to the
learned."

(This is no longer the case. Latin songs become daily rarer yet some
still remain in use, as--_Mihi est propositum_.)

"Should a Knote dare to sing a student song, he is to be well
cudgelled; not so much on account of the excellence of the song, as on
account of the audacity of the Philistine, presuming to desecrate songs
sacred to the students especially as it is impossible that he can have
so much feeling as to appreciate the elegance and beauty of such
songs."

As the occasions on which men sing are very different, it is natural
that the contents of the songs should be so too. Some contain--

_Firstly_.--An incitement to joy. Amongst these I reckon "Up Brothers,
let us joyful be;" or, an Exhortation to Friendship, as that _bonne
amitié_ song, with which a Commers is always opened, and whose object
is solely to create a friendly feeling in the Old Burschen towards the
Foxes.

_Secondly_.--Others are Freedom and Fatherland songs; amongst which,
high above all, stands "The Landsfather."

_Thirdly_.--Songs which express the spirit and bravery of the students;
as--"The Bursch of genuine Shot and Corn;" or "The Sword on my left
side:" "Know ye the happy way to conquer;" "Brave 'tis 'neath the free
blue Heaven," etc. One of these we may here give at length, as a


                  PICTURE OF THE OLD-FASHIONED BURSCH.

            The Bursch of real shot and corn,
              His courage still doth bloom;
            On heavy boot the spur is worn,
              From hat doth sway the plume.

            The huge hat makes a gallant show,
              With the sword cut through;[37]
            It guards him more from thrust and blow,
              Than were it sound and new.

            The Bursch his ornament doth bear,
              Which him such pleasure brings,
            The sword which with a fearful air
              Upon his left side swings.

            As Bursch, when through the town he stirs,
              Majestic in all eyes,
            The sparks they lighten round his spurs,
              And fire crossways flies.

            What careth he, though hole there be,
              Upon his elbow now;
            The jolly Bursch remaineth he,
              Before whom all must bow.

            But wo to thee! if on his course
              In perfumed garb thou rub;
            He'll curse thee for Pomatum-horse,
              And threaten with his club.

            For friends still beats his heart so warm,
              He feels their grief and care;
            For them he wields his mighty arm,
              Nor would his own life spare.

            Whoever saw him shrink a-back,
              Or do a coward deed?
            Shame on him he would never take,
              Though kingdoms were the meed.

            They law how in the battle-shock
              His flashing sword he drew;
            They saw how from its sweep, like smoke,
              The slaves before him flew.

            Courage in danger and distress
              Is aye the conquering plan:
            Aye though all hell upon him press,
              He'll show himself a man!

            Hears he of Hermann's spirit proud,
              Of his high deeds the fame,
            His German blood warns him aloud--
              "Be worthy of the name!"

            He drinks the German vine-juice bright,
              And German feels and great;
            In his right arm dwells giant might,
              And freedom's his estate.

            Then live hoch! every German man
              Who thinks and speaks as he;
            But they who falsehood basely plan,
              Extinguished may they be!

            Weighs care upon his heart's repose,
              He takes his pipe so dear,
            And as the Knaster fumes and glows,
              All troubles disappear.

            He is a Bursch,---lives _sans façon_
              Him all their friend may deem;
            His heart is good, although we own
              At times it different seem.

            Fair maids he wishes free from wrongs,
              With joy to their life's goal;
            And lauds them still in all his songs,
              With all his heart and soul.

            See! though all glasses empty stand,
              Full jugs to us appeal;
            So send the wine from hand to hand,
              And drink the Bursch's weal.

            Already from the jug's full flood
              To glass the wine doth flow,
            And to our worthy Brotherhood,
              We'll sound this hearty hoch!

            Baden I call my Fatherland,
              As life I prize its weal;
            Therefore I wear the Baden Band,
              And guard with hand and steel.


_Fourthly_.--Others are drinking songs; as "Crambambuli, that is the
title;" or "When carousing I shall die;" "The year is good, the brown
beer thrives;" "Bring me blood of noble vines;" "The dearest sweetheart
that I have;" "I have throughout the forenoon long;" "I and my dear
bottle;" "Now sing in dulci jubilo;" or that maiden song, in which the
maiden is drunk for, while he who empties most measures is declared the
conqueror, and entitled to marry the maiden; while the rest cry and
chorus.


                  He's done it stout, he's done it stout,
                  So will he not be laughed right out.


And the maiden, who all the while is perfectly unconscious of these
proceedings, and has given no consent to them, is declared to be won,
and is pronounced to be the beloved of the victor. Ah, poor maiden! so
wouldst thou, not out of love, but truly contrary to thy will, be
thrown into the arms of a drunkard!

This maiden song is now, to the honour of the studentship, quite out of
use; yet Zackariä describes such a scene as common in the days of his
Renommist.


      And therefore filled he with beer that mighty glass,
      And drank it off the first unto that fair endearing---
      A maiden yet whose name had scarcely met his hearing
      He held in hand, as sceptre, the solid room-door key,
      Thus acted he as chief, and to his realm gave he
      A sacred law, unpausing the measured draught to end;
      And oft his judge's arm let the heavy key descend.
      Wo unto him who then this law as rebel brake,
      When he that thunder-word _pro p[oe]na_, to him spake.\
      Then must another measure his luckless throat o'erflow,
      Or stood he in great danger the damsel to forego.

                          *    *   *   *   *

      "But now, ye Brothers--hoch! and let Selinda live.
      Vivat Selinda, hoch! with roughest throats now roar,
      Vivat Selinda, hoch! cry mightily once more!
      Shout for the third time--hoch!"--the very room did quiver,
      And on the long wet table the glasses ring and shiver.
      As in old Homer's story, upon the Trojan plain,
      Mars, like ten thousand men, sent forth a cry of pain,
      Till the whole army trembled, with rock, and hill, and valley,
      So trembled now this chamber with this Studenten sally.
      Then Torf her lovely countenance with such a beauty draws,
      That each one swearing gave a thundering applause.
      The Renommist then cried--who inly now grew warmer--
      Here I myself do choose her--I choose her for my Charmer.
      "The fiend thou dost!" said Torf, right loath to give her o'er,
      But Raufbold straight defied him to twenty choppins more.
      Torf yielded up the contest--strength did his hope betray,
      And Leipsic's crown was thus far from the faint-heart drunk away.
                                                  _The Renommist_.


Certain songs belong to the conclusion of a Commers, or drinking
meeting. With the last song, the glasses are turned upside down
according to the old song, and the brother revellers, wish each other a
good night.


            I take my dear glass in my hand
            And bear it to the Underland.

            I fetch again my glass so dear,
            And hold to th' right and to th' left ear.

            My glass unto my mouth set I,
            And drain it to the bottom dry.

            The right thing to the glass do we,
            What was above must under be.

            The glass must walk the land O!
            From one to th' other hand O!


He who in drinking or singing shoots a buck--that is, has broken the
rule--must _pro p[oe]na_, or in other words as a penalty, empty an
extra choppin or two. He who often associates himself with a Commers,
is called a Commers-brother.

                               *   *   *

      Give us a prime good glass, so will our praise be ample,
      Only be 't not too scant a sample;
      For when on wine I must decide
      With mouth right full I'd have it tried.
                                                 _Goethe's Faust_.


So thought the German students in earlier times, and so think they
still. Drinking had reached a dreadful height in the Middle Ages, and
many laws were passed, but in vain, to put a check on the madness. It
was the same amongst the Burschen, who carried it to a most incredible
extent. At the time that those students who were the best drinkers,
were most regarded amongst their fellows in the universities, a
Westphalian studying in Halle, made a visit to a countryman who was
studying at Jena. The Jena student, to show his friend that he
understood life, immediately on the first evening, called all his
companions together, and they all drank to the welcome visiter so
strongly in beer and wine, that on the following morning he had hardly
slept off the effects of it before twelve o'clock. Scarcely had he
dressed and despatched his dinner, when he was anew conducted to the
drinking-place. Thus the revel continued for eight days in succession,
when he travelled back to Halle. After his return he related many
strange things of the mode of life of his countrymen in Jena, and
always added--"Children,--it is very curious in Jena,--there is no
forenoon there."

Such madness is now gone by; yet, ever and anon, there are students who
might boldly challenge the gentlemen of the old school to a trial at
toping, if they would rise out of their graves to it. Beer is the
general beverage of the students, and as the best sorts of the same, as
the Bavarian, and the formerly celebrated Heidelberg beer, are not
strong, the health of the consumer, even in a long-continued course, is
not injured by it, as it is in other universities, where, through the
want of beer, wine and spirits are drunk. Beer, at the same time, is
the cheapest liquor, and on that account is liked by the student not
less than by the common man, amongst whom it is equally the custom to
drink much. In one year, when the choppin (pint) of beer cost one-third
of a penny, or, about half the usual price, a coachman achieved a most
extraordinary feat in drinking. Some students promised to pay for a
hundred choppins if he would drink it with only short intervals. He
accepted the offer, and had all the hundred measures set in a row on a
bench. He drank the first, walked slowly to the end of the hall and
back, drank off the second, and so on till finding not another drop, he
said quietly to the landlord--"So, now let me have just another choppin
for my money."

The students drink generally beer at their Kneips, and if this is done
in the open air, a large company is accustomed to pile up the emptied
jugs into a pyramid.


            Not by trophies, marbled over,
            Will posterity discover
              What we brothers here have done;
            But of triumph our memorial,
            These drained pitchers in their glory all,
              Pile, a pyramid of fun!
                                                    _Hauff_.


At Commers, and on other festive occasions, are also frequently drunk
wine, or ardent glee-wine and punch. It is a very ancient custom,
amongst drinkers, that the glasses must be emptied after certain and
manifold practices and prescriptions. Horace describes a similar wont
in his time, where the drinkers are accustomed to elect a king, who
presided on the occasion. Such rules are now become quite voluminous
amongst the students, and are collected into their so-called
Beer-Comment. This, therefore, contains the guiding laws of the
Beer-Court. We will give this Beer-Comment at the end of the volume, as
an example of the elaborate style into which this old and deep-rooted
custom of German student-life has come to be carried out. Strange as it
may appear to other nations, it is a custom in Germany, old as the
universities themselves; and as our object is to probe to the very
bottom of student-life, and give a full and faithful portraiture of it,
those of our sober readers who may not think these very wise or
commendable laws, may, having read the rest of the book, there close
it, without perusing this Beer-Code. We also precede the account of the
Commerses with a collection of all the phrases which the Germans employ
to clothe in a tolerable garb of decorum that dreamy condition into
which Bacchus frequently throws his votaries. These modes of expression
were collected by Lichtenberg, and a few only have been added to them.


                              HIGH GERMAN

   He scents wine
   He has got a shot
   He is shot through
   He has got a blow
   He has got a touch
   He has got a Jesuit
   He has got too much
   He is tipsy
   He is foggy
   He has got a saintish look
   He has a dizziness
   He is inspired
   He is full
   He takes a Bauer for an earth-bear
   His head is heavy
   He has dim eyes
   He is not right in the upper story
   He has glass eyes
   He rocks
   He has something in the roof
   He is full and furious
   He has his load
   He has been in a good spot
   He has something in his head
   He has enough
   He has got a bag-wig
   He has drunk a glass too much
   He has pept into the glass too deep
   He is illuminated
   He staggers
   His tongue is too heavy
   He can't lift his tongue any more
   He floats
   He makes crosses
   He is sated
   He saw wooden cans in heaven
   He is up to his throat full
   He has made himself a beard
   He goes in a flourish
   He is well blessed
   He is loaded awry
   He has made himself black
   His house is haunted
   He tacks about
   He can't keep his legs
   He is funny
   He is well drunk
   He has been present
   He is ready
   He is off
   He is away
   He is happy
   He takes the sky a bass viol
   He sees the letters double
   He is as sick as heaven-hail
   He is dull and full
   He has followed his own fancy
   He is _à tout_
   He has daubed himself
   He has a rattle
   He has a ditto
   He has round feet
   He has leaned too far over
   He is star-blind thick
   He yearns after the brandy bottle
   He has lamed his tongue
   He is as full as a bagpipe
   He is lost
   He is covered
   He sees two suns
   He is thick as poodle-hail
   He goes as if all houses were his
   He is totally away
   He sails with full sails
   He leans against a shutter
   He is poodle thick
   He has his tally
   He has his part
   He can't spit over his beard
   He makes a _pas frisé_
   He is thick
   He has had too much of a good thing
   He has been in his cups
   He has something in the top
   He is cat thick
   He has washed himself
   He has drammed himself
   He has done it pretty well
   He has taken good care of himself
   He has a giddiness
   He can scarcely stammer
   He has Moses' tongue
   He is led about
   He is under the table
   He takes a church-spire for a toothpick
   He has armed himself with a sword
   He has sprinkled his nose
   He has endowed himself
   They have buried him
   He is hail-blind full
   He stares like a stuck calf
   He looks like a duck in thunder
   He is be-kneipt
   He is split
   He doesn't come home alone
   He brings Geiselbrecht with him
   He is a drunken swine
   He falls off
   He is in dulci jubilo
   He has chopped beyond the line
   He is tufted
   He cannot walk in the line


In the Low German are some fifty other phrases on the same subject.




                              CHAPTER XVI.

                              THE COMMERS.

      And there is grandfather, who, letters still extant,
      Though now somewhat ancient, give sure text on't.
      In many a Commers and Burschen-feast,
      As sword-bearing Præses his fame increased.
                                       _Preface to the Renommist_.


Our discourse shall now be of a beautiful feast of the Students--the
Commers. We describe the Commers of the present day; since in earlier
times this festival bore another shape, and was disfigured by rude
customs, so that we may justly say of the Commers, that it has not,
like most other feasts, degenerated in the course of years, but has
already improved itself. We will hereafter speak of these customs of an
earlier time, and of some which in many places still remain, but which
do not necessarily belong to the Commers. We understand by a Commers,
as it now exists, a festive assembly, which consecrates itself by a
higher tone and signification by the singing of "The Landsfather."

The Commers is divided into the general and the special. In the former,
the assembled Chores, and all other students who wish it, take part. In
describing the constitution of a Chore, we have already spoken of
these. In the special Commers, only a particular Chore, with all those
that are attached to it, and such other members of other friendly
Chores as are invited, take part. The Commerses are distinguished into
Entrance and Farewell Commerses, with which the Semesters open and
close. The Fox-ride generally takes place at the Entrance-Commers. Each
particular Chore, moreover, has its Foundation-Commers, on which it
celebrates the anniversary of its establishment. Many Chores also are
accustomed to hold a Commers in honour of the birthday of their Land
Prince.

First, of the General Commers. To this, assemble themselves all who
take part in it, in a spacious room, either in the city or in its
immediate neighbourhood.

Those students who are not themselves in any Chore, attach themselves
to one or other of them, and each Chore has its particular table; and
two presidents sit at the head of each table. The chief president is
the Senior of that Chore which has the secretaryship.

When the Commers shall begin, the presidents cry "ad loca!" which
command every one must be careful to obey, if he would avoid the
consequence of a beer penalty. In these Commerses, the rule is to drink
beer, and this is called a Commers in beer. The chief president has now
to give out the songs which shall be sung, and he also dictates the
particular verses. Certain songs are on these occasions brought forward
from time immemorial, as "Heidelberg, live thou! hurrah hoch!" or the
following, at a Farewell Commers.


                            THE TRAVEL SONG.

      Away! we have drunk it, the sparkling wine,
      Adieu, now, ye loved ones, to wander is mine.
      Adieu, now ye mountains, thou fatherly home,
      For mightily drives me the passion to roam.
      For mightily drives me the passion to roam.

      The sun in the heaven won't pause without change,
      But speeds on through lands and o'er oceans to range;
      The wave will not cling to the same lonesome strand;
      The storms, they go roaring with might through the land.
      --(The land).

      With clouds, fast careering, the bird floats along,
      And sings in the far-land its home-loving song;
      Through forest and field so the Bursche is hurl'd,
      To be, like his mother, the wandering world.
      --(The world).

      There greet him the birds which beyond seas he knew;
      From fields of his home-scenes 'tis here that they flew.
      The sweet flowers around him familiarly grow,
      In airs from his country, far wafted, they blow.
      --(They blow).

      The birds! O well know they his father's own towers;
      For garlands of love once he planted those flowers.
      And love, it still follows, still gives him the hand,
      And makes him a home in that furthermost land.
      --(That land).


Before each president lies a drawn sword, with which, as signal of
command, he strikes upon the table. It is forbidden to every one, on
pain of a beer-penalty, to interrupt the song in any manner whatever.
So now the singing and drinking go forward in regular course. At a
later hour a supper is eaten, and the Commers is closed by the singing
of "The Landsfather," after which there is no more singing, but it
immediately becomes free to every one to stay and kneip on as long as
he likes.

When "The Landsfather" is to begin, the presidents command "ad loca!"
Every one must quietly take his seat, and it is allowed to no one, as
otherwise commonly happens at kneipings, to take off his coat, and sit
in his shirt-sleeves. All must be conducted solemnly and seriously. All
voices join in--


                 THE CONSECRATION SONG, OR LANDSFATHER.


            Silence all ye, each one call ye
            Unto solemn tones his ear!
              Hark, the song of songs I raise now,
              German brothers, join in praise now,
            Sound it, Sound it back a chorus clear!

              Of your Fatherland the song;
            Fatherland! thou land so famous,
            Sacred to thy glory claim us;--
            Germans proudly, swell ye loudly,
              We, our swords, to thee belong!

            Life and living to thee giving,
            We are all prepared to bleed:
            Ready at each hour for dying,
            Death, with all his wounds defying,
            If our Fatherland it need.

            He who feels not; he who zeals not,
            In true worth to be arrayed,--
            He shall not our bond dishonour;
            This our Bride,[38] swear not upon her;
              Nor the German sword degrade.

            Song the proudest, swell it loudest;
              Brave and German be we too;
            See the consecrated band here,
            As brave Burschen take your stand here,
            And the free-cap strike ye through.

            See it gleaming, softly beaming,
              In my left this stain-free glave;
            Thus I strike the cap through, swearing,
            Honour bright for ever wearing,
              Still to be a Bursché brave!


During the singing of the preceding stanzas, the two presidents hold
their swords across each other, each holding his sword in his left
hand, and placing the fingers of the right on it, to ratify the oath;
and this being done, they pierce their caps through, and leave them
hanging on the swords. While they do this, all sing:


            Thus thou strik'st the cap through, swearing,
            Honour bright for ever wearing,--
            Still to be a Bursché brave!


Each president then sings thus to his next neighbour while he reaches
him the cup:--


            Drinker! swimming, bright o'erbrimming,
            Take this Fatherlandish cup!


The presidents give their swords each to their next neighbours. These,
who sit opposite to each other, have risen from their seats, and now
hold the swords which they have received from the presidents, crossed,
over the table. The presidents continue their song:


            Thy left hand the keen sword bearing,
            Boring through the cap, and swearing--
            To thy country drink it up!
                                        [Here they empty the cups.


The two who have drunk now sing,--


            See it gleaming, softly beaming,
            In my left this stain-free glave!

      All repeat--"See it gleaming, softly beaming," etc.


Each of the two individuals sings on:--


            Thus I strike the cap through, swearing,
            Honour bright for ever wearing,
            Still to be a Bursché brave!


While all repeat this in chorus, the caps of the two are spitted on the
swords to the former two. With the last words the presidents take back
the swords, and as they hand the caps to the next two, sing, "Drinker!
swimming, bright o'erbrimming," etc. So go the presidents, repeating
the same ceremony with each opposite two, till they reach the bottom of
the table. Here they exchange with each other the swords, on which the
assembled caps are hanging, but without changing their respective sides
of the table. As they do this each president sings:


                  Come thou, drawn sword, consecrated,
                    Of freemen the weapon free!
                  With transpierced cape thus freighted,
                    Yield it solemnly to me.
                  Let us gaily it discumber,
                    Cover each one now his head;
                    And unspotted in his bed,
                  Till next feast-day let it slumber.

      All sing--  Up! ye feast companions, guard them,
                    All our hallowed rites and fair;
                  All your heart and soul award them,
                    As stout men should ever dare!
                  To the feast, ye brothers valiant,--
                    Worthy of your fathers, stand!
                  And may he ne'er wield the brand,
                    But who noble is and gallant!


Each president now reaches across the table to the brother sitting
opposite to him, his cap, which he has taken off the sword, and
stretches the sword over his covered head; both the presidents
singing:--


                          So take it back;--
                  Thy head I now will cover,
                  And stretch the sword it over,
                    And live to this our Brother, hoch!
                  A dog's-foot who insult him shall!
                  Wherever we shall meet him,
                  We'll aye, as Brother greet him,
                    And live to this our Brother, hoch!


While all are singing, the president reaches to him whose head he has
covered, his right hand. The presidents thus gradually, and in
succession, cover all heads, till they have again arrived at that place
at the table where they have presided. Returned thither, they cover
each other under the same ceremonies. In conclusion, all sing:--


                  Rest thee from the Burschen feast-rites,
                    Now, thou dedicated brand,
                  And be each one's high endeavour--
                    Freedom for his Fatherland!
                  Hail to him who still is haunted
                    With his father's &me in field;
                  And the sword may no one wield,
                    But the noble and undaunted!


This is the simple description of a Commers, as it is now celebrated;
and when we ask what it is which distinguishes the Commers from other
festive meetings, the reply must be, that it consists in the singing of
"The Landsfather," as its solemn and ceremonial conclusion. To this
celebration we certainly are not at all disposed to refuse our
approbation. It contributes strongly to maintain a unity amongst the
students, divided and subdivided as they are into different Chores, and
separated again from the private people--as the Camels, as a more
polite name, are called. They contribute to bring back to the
consciousness of every one, that Germany, though separated into so many
states and territories, is yet One Germany! The hole which is pierced
in the cap is at once a symbol of death of the Fatherland, and a
memorial of Commers pleasures enjoyed in companionship with those of
many names and places.

In order to bring under notice certain customs of the Commerses, which,
however, are not general, and which in recent years at least have not
been practised in Heidelberg, we may here give the regulations of the
Beer-Comment thereupon, and which indeed take up the Comment, where it
will be found left off at the end of this volume, and conclude it.


                               TITULUS X.

                          OF THE BEER-COMMERS.

Section 142.--Beer-Burschen alone can preside, and out-to-be-fought
Branders, who then, as presidents, have unlimited power. (By
out-to-be-fought Branders, are to be understood those who, in this same
Commers, shall be advanced to Young Burschen.)

Section 143.--The Beer-commers proceed in the following manner. After
the presidents have cried, "ad loca!" and every one has seated himself,
they command silence, and every one must pay the strictest attention to
this command, upon which the song begins.

Section. 144.--When the song is ended, one of the presidents cries
"_Smollis_, ye brother presidents," which is answered by the other
presidents, with "_Fiducit_ and _Smollis_, gentlemen;" upon, which all
the commanders answer "_Fiducit_."

_Smollis_ is, in this place, a kind of salutation; whence comes the
word _Smolliren_, by which it is understood that the parties drink to a
brotherhood; so that the two new friends or brothers, from this time
forward, instead of the polite term "You," use to each other the
familiar word "Thou." When two individuals _smolliren_ with each other,
it is thus performed. The two kling, or touch their glasses together,
drink them quite off, and then reach to each other the right hand,
saying to each other, "Be thou my friend."

When this is done with a number in a Kneipe, they are accustomed,
holding the glass in one hand, to link that arm with the other arm of
the new Thou-brother, and thus turning and crossing to touch each
other's glasses and drink them off, as already it is described in the
Renommist.


            The hands to the Smollis, entwined thus crossing--
            "_Fiducit_, Sir Brother," together _antossing_.[39]


It is the custom in some universities, that all students address each
other with "thou." This is called the "Thou-comment," in
contradistinction to others; as Heidelberg, where the "You-comment" is
in use. But students who in any manner are often associated in parties
of enjoyment, will soon become "Thou-brothers," and it arises of itself
amongst those who are of the same Chore. Therein it is the custom that
the younger student always offers the Smollis to the elder; if the
contrary happens, it must be regarded as a peculiar favour. That
in the very different paths of life which succeed the university-years,
it must give occasion to some singular scenes, when the early
university-companions, who so quickly knit this kind of bond of amity,
in after-life find themselves together again, and are obliged to use
towards each other their familiar "Thou," we may well imagine.

Section 145.--After this, the song is sung "The Foxes under the bann
have gone." Upon which the Crass-Foxes, with bare heads, standing up,
must each drink off half a choppin; the Brand-Foxes, with bare heads,
sitting, must drink each a choppin.

Section 146.--When the song is sung, one president asks the rest, "Has
any of the brother presidents any thing to dictate, or to recommend?"
Whereupon, each of the presidents dictates or commands to them who have
disturbed in any manner the song or the Commers. But they may not
command to any one more than two choppins at one time.

Section 147.--If any one does not drink the quantity dictated to him
within five minutes, the president has the right, without further
proceeding, to write him down on the Beer-tablet as a Beer-schisser.
The quantity which he has yet to drink is to be added to the four
choppins. Yet is the Beer-schisser regarded during the Commers as
Beer-honourable.

Section 148.--If the presidents declare that they have nothing further
to recommend or to dictate, there follows a short pause, during which
each Beer-Bursch can fore-drink to the presidents, what these have
immediately to after-drink. But during this pause the quantity
fore-drunken to any one of the presidents must not exceed four
choppins.

Section 149.--If all is now drunk, the presidents may dictate nothing
further, but they close the presidentship with the exclamation--"_Ex
est! Colloquium!_"

Section 150.--There may be no fore-drinking during the presidentship,
except to the presidents during the pause after their dictation and the
commendation.

As already stated, these customs, which must always precede the singing
of "The Landsfather," are not every where observed in Commers, and do
not necessarily belong to them. In earlier times, the word Commers had
a wider comprehension. It meant, in general, a convival meeting, in
which a president had the direction and control of the singing and
drinking. The meetings were often of a very rude character, and if we
even do not hold up the Commerses of the present day as specimens of
temperance, yet they acquire a nobler sentiment from the solemnity of
"The Landsfather." To those earlier Commerses, rather than to the
present, apply those satirical remarks in the Dissertation of the Old
Schluck. He makes these observations:--

"A Commers is a drinking-meeting, in which a number of students elect
one from amongst themselves, under whose presidency to sing and drink.
The drinking goes on partly at their own cost, and partly at the cost
of others. He who invites others, as guests, and pays the shot
(schmaust),[40] is styled host, or hospes, from hoc and spes; as if
some one should say, I have placed my hope on him. He who directs the
drinking-meeting, is president.

"A Commers is more or less strict. It is a strict Commers when the
members of the company mutually pledge themselves faithfully to perform
whatever the president commands, be it even with danger of life. The
signs of the unlimited power of the president, are--

"(1) A sceptre, generally a house-door key,[41] with which he either
dispenses with drinking, or exhorts the delinquent to drink or sing, or
finally points out the defaulters.

"(2) A naked sword, which is laid on the table, and with which the
disobedient are compelled to obedience. Hereupon it is clear:

"(_a_) That no one, without the permission of the president, may stand
up. If any one withdraws himself, without having asked permission
aloud, he must, for his culpable stiffneckedness, drink from two to
four glasses.

"(_b_) That no one may refuse to drink the glasses which are dictated to
him, since, as shown above, he is pledged to obedience, even at the
risk of his life. _Quere_--Can one who has drunken so much that he
falls dead in the Commers be obliged to drink more? _Answer_--No! since
death discharges all obligations."

These Commerses, of an earlier and ruder time, are discarded. In the
Renommist such a one is described, and it concludes with these lines:


      Worn fairly out with song, with drinking and with noise,
      Go reeling now along, those three wild roaring boys.
      Mid shattered pipes and glass, their staggering way they strive,
      Till in the distant market, by lamplight they arrive.
      As other men awake, to bed they take their flight,
      And bellow to each other--"Sir Brother, a good-night!"




                             CHAPTER XVII.

                          THE SPECIAL COMMERS.

            Bumpers in oar left-hands draining,
            We will drink thy long maintaining,
              Ancient, jovial Burschendom!
            Swords in our right hands extending,
            We will fight for thy defending,
              Free and gallant Burschendom!
                                                    _Hauff_.


These lines of Hauff's, who himself enjoyed in Tübingen the pleasures
of the Burschendom with a fresh spirit, express the sentiments which
altogether in the life of the student, but especially in its most
beautiful feast, the Commers, are felt and abound. We have described
the General Commers; and we have now to make our readers acquainted
with the so-called Special Commers, that which each individual corps
celebrates at the commencement and conclusion of each Semester. These
Commerses are seldom held in the city. We see a jocund train issuing
forth from one of the city gates. A troop goes before on horseback,
who, in earlier times, were still more distinguished by their peculiar
style, but who still may sometimes be seen in full costume, that is, in
buckskins and huge jack-boots, Polonaise frocks; on their heads, their
Cerevis caps; over their breasts, wearing the broad Chore-band, while
they carry in their right hands their naked swords. The rest follow
them in carriages drawn by two or four horses; or the Senior precedes
in a four or six-horse equipage, and the rest follow in two-horse ones.
In their customary negligent student-dress, they lounge at their ease
in their carriages, smoking their long pipes. The Foxes show themselves
especially consequential, since it is the first time that they have
been privileged to present themselves to the eyes of the astonished
world in such a public procession. The Pawk-doctor is always invited to
this festivity, and frequently honours the Chore with his presence; but
the Red Fisherman is an invariable attendant, arrayed in the oddest
style, as the black frock-coat, and his other habiliments, by no means
correspond with the open breast and outlying shirt. He is generally
posted as servant behind the last carriage.

If now the reader were, on such a day, already at Neckarsteinach, so
might he, from the little pavilion in the garden of the Gasthouse[42]
of the Harp, right commodiously observe the approach of such a train,
as it emerges from one of the windings of the road which follows the
serpentine course of the Neckar, and permits him even from afar to see
the flashing of the drawn swords, and the shimmering of the coloured
caps and Chore-bands. Or he sees the new guests approaching in a barge
which they have mounted at Neckargemünd, where they have left their
horses and carriages. The barge is hung with garlands and festoons,
pennons stream from the masts; the sons of the Muses, in their
many-coloured costume, are picturesquely grouped, and some of them are
singing in the overflowing of their spirits to the sound of the jocund
music.

The inhabitants see gladly these guests arrive in the place; as the
Burschen, on one such day, make a greater expenditure, or in common
parlance, moult more feathers than as many honourable inhabitants of
the little town do in a whole year. On this account, their approach is
first announced to the spectator in the garden of the Harp, by the
firing of small cannon, which are planted for the purpose of doing all
possible honour to these high guests, on the Dielsberg, a town
opposite, situated on a lofty conical hill, where the earliest view of
the approaching train is obtained, and by others fired from one of the
old castles of Neckarsteinach. The garden of the inn now speedily
swarms with the jovial Burschen, who here play off all sorts of pranks
and whims.

But within, the whole house is in the most universal bustle.
House-servants and waiters run to and fro; in the kitchen all the hands
of the cooks are in active agitation, in order to fulfil the command of
the landlady. There will sit a sleepy maid nodding in a chair, since
for two days, that is, since the Commers was announced to them, there
has been no sleep in the eyes of any of the ministering spirits; but
she is quickly roused up with a vengeance in order to assist in the
general activity. All, however, is still and solitary in the yard; for
the poor feather-cattle have been compelled to yield up their young
lives in order to parade on the table of these honoured and swarming
guests. Above, in the great hall, is a long table covered. Every window
is adorned with green and flowery garlands and festoons, and at that
end of the hall where the seat of honour is placed, there is emblazoned
on the wall the great and painted coat-of-arms of the Verbindung,
embellished with flowers and ribands. The musicians now take their
places in the orchestra above; the sons of the Muses appear in the
hall, and the feast is opened. After the cloth is drawn the proceedings
at table are such as we have described in the General Commers, except
that, at this Commers, no beer is drunk, but wine only; and you may
soon hear the report of outflying Champagne corks, as the toasts of the
Chore are given, or those upon and connected with the Land Prince, when
the Commers is celebrated on his birthday.

In the so-called Foundation Commers, it is customary for the Senior, to
deliver a short speech, in which he takes a review of the fortunes of
the Verbindung, or Chore, from its establishment, and particularly
mentions the names of those who have belonged to it, and are now gone
forth from it into busy life.

As they do not return from such a Commers, at the earliest, till the
noon or the evening of the next day, all kind of follies and madcap
playfulness are resorted to, to make the time pass merrily. Amongst
these may be classed the "Lord of Fools." A great throne is built up of
tables and chairs, upon which one of the students is placed. He is
equipped as a king, with his crown, sceptre, and other insignia. The
others are his devoted subjects, who bring him a great humper, or large
glass, such as every Chore possesses. The Prince of Fools now sings:--


                          THE PRINCE OF FOOLS.

      Prince.--I am the Prince of fooling,
               Here, o'er the topers ruling;
               And ye the gods do send on,
               My Princeship to attend on.

      All--    To wait on your divineness,
               With wine of every fineness,
               That's why we here are standing,
               All at your dread commanding.

      Prince.--Ye sportsmen with your thunder
               Shoot me the foxes under,
               And ye there all before us,
               Blow in your horns a chorus.

      All.--   'Ith horn, 'ith horn, 'ith hunter's horn,
               'Ith horn, 'ith horn, 'ith hunter's horn,
               Drink off, drink off, thou Prince of Fools.
               Drink off, drink off, thou Prince of Fools.


As they sing this, he empties his humper.


  The Prince.--What helps me now my lofty throne,
               My sceptre, wad my Burschen-crown?
               What helps me now my high command?
               I lay it down in N. N.'s hand!


He now descends from the throne, and the next takes his place, till it
has thus gone the whole round.

The convivial meeting sits till late in the night; and the next day
they amuse themselves with all kinds of frolics and merriments, in
which the Red Fisherman often becomes the butt of no gentle jokes. They
sometimes make processions through the village at the head of which one
of them rides on the back of the Red Fisherman, or on an ass. They
climb the neighbouring ruined castles, which are perched on the
mountains, and let their songs thence resound over the country.

These gambols and outbreaks of youthful spirits, full of life,
strength, and enjoyment, and which thus are ready to overleap all
bounds in the excitement of leaving behind for a day or so all study,
and giving themselves up in fine weather, and beautiful scenery, to the
full swing of their fancies and feelings, especially such a troop of
youngsters being together, have always characterized the students. An
old popular ballad describes their pranks in these rural Commerses, as
far back as 1650; probably then a little more freely indulged in than
at present.


                         WAYS OF THE STUDENTS.

      Queer chaps are these students, say folks every where,
      Although you should have them but once in the year;
      They make in the village such riot and reek,
      There's nought else left for us but plague for a week.

      Now must we be caring for St. Mary's day,
      And every one is wishing that Galli come may;
      Then come they with swords and fowling-pieces too,
      And make in the village a horrid to-do.

      There's nothing then in safety; no pigeon, no hen,
      As though they were made but for plunder of men;
      No goose dare even venture out into the meadow,
      These gents with their swords would soon whip off its head oh.

      Are gardens with boards and bars all fenced too?
      They burst them asunder that the sun doth shine through;
      In clambering for apples the trees too they break,
      'Tis well if each home but a pocketful take.

      With fire and with powder we're in constant fears,
      That e'en our small house be burnt over our ears;
      Their crackers they let on our roofs hop and bound,
      And a devil cares not though they burn to the ground.

      Has one a good dog by his house-door to stay,
      And that from his chain could not break away,
      Straight let they him loose, when, troth 'twere no need,
      Potz hagel! they've shot, and the poodle is dead!

      Students 'ith Wirthshouse, are jolly and able.
      For all that they need is a great mighty table;
      They drink and they shout, as the house theirs had been:
      They drink and they cry till they're sky-blue and green.

      Now they talk Lapodeinish![43] I know not what 'tis;
      But one knows very well, it is we that they quiz--
      Now they dance in the market, they leap and they play,
      And take from the hinds their own dance-place away.

      Then turn the men-servants, and cudgel them out,
      Till like mice they are running the streets all about;
      They gather to battle in furious throngs,
      And smite, lunge, and cry with right deafening lungs.

      Then they're off through the fields with their play to undo them,
      'Tis just as if thunder should tear its way through them,
      They tread down the corn-field, they don't understand,
      What 'tis to eat black bread raised by their own hand.

      Is a horse in the meadow, his strength to recruit?
      The students soon seize on the poor weary brute,
      They're up, and their heels in his sides go ding-dong,
      Ah! might he, at least, but go slowly along!


Two centuries have produced a proportionate improvement in the
students; though as full of fun as ever, the country people have
nothing like the wanton mischief here recorded to fear from them.

The Commers then, being brought to a close, they generally return by
boat to the city of the Muses. If this is in the evening, the barge is
illuminated, and when they approach the city, fireworks are played off.
As they land they proceed to their Kneip, and there wind up the feast.
On the arrangements of a Kneip, nothing further is necessary to be
said, as we, in becoming acquainted with the Beer-tablet, beheld the
only particular in which it differs from other drinking-places; but, in
speaking of the different drinks that are consumed in a Kneiping, we
must not forget the Crambambuli. In order to prepare this liquor, an
earthenware dish is used, into which a sufficient quantity of sugar is
poured, and it is then filled up with rum. It is then set fire to; and
the company, who sit round the flaming dish, sing--


                         THE CRAMBAMBULI SONG.

            Crambambuli, this is the title
              Of that good drink we love the best,
            It is the means of proof most vital,
              When evil fortunes us molest.
            In evening late, in morning free,
            I drink my glass Crambambuli.

            Have I into the inn ascended,
              Most like some noble cavalier?
            I leave the bread and roast untended,
              And bid them bring the corkscrew here.
            Then blows the coachman--trantanti--
            Unto a glass Crambambuli.

            Are head and stomach both distracted;
              For eating have I little zest;
            A plaguy cold have I contracted;
              Have I catarrh within my chest?
            What need the doctor trouble me,
            I drink my glass Crambambuli!

            Were I a prince of power unbounded,
              Like Kaiser Maximilian,
            For me were there an order founded,
              'Tis this device I'd hang thereon:--
            Toujours fidele, et sans souci,
            C'est l'ordre du Crambambuli!

            Comes there no bill my needs to better?
              Have I at play my money lost?
            My maiden, writes she not a letter!
              Come grievous tidings by the post?
            Then drink I, from anxiety,
            A brimming glass Crambambulli.

            Ah! if the dear old folks but knew it,
              How we young Gents, their sons, were stead,
            How we must pinch and sorely rue it,
              They'd weep till their old eyes were red.
            Whilst make themselves the Filii
            So bene by Crambambuli.

            And has the Bursch his cash expended?
              To sponge the Philistine's his plan.
            And thinks it folly all extended,
              From Burschen unto Beggarman.
            Since this is the philosophy
            In spirit of Crambambulli.

            Shall I for fame and freedom stand then;
              For Burschen weal the sword lift free?
            Quick blinks the steel in my right hand then,
              A friend will stand and second me.
            To him I say, Mon cher ami,
            Before a glass Crambambuli.

            It grieves me sore, ye foolish-hearted,
              That ye love not, and drink not wine;
            To asses are ye now converted,
              And might be angels all divine.
            Drink water like the cattle free,
            And think it is Crambambuli.

            Crambambuli, it still shall cheer me,
              When every other joy is past,
            When o'er the glass Friend Death draws near me,
              And mars my pleasure at the last.
            I'll drink with him in companié
            The last glass of Crambambulli.

            Then who 'gainst us, Crambambulisten,
              His spiteful mouth with envy screws,
            We hold him for no kind of Christian,
              Since he God's blessings doth abuse.
            I'd give him, though for life cried he,
            No single drop Crambambuli.

                               *   *   *

During the singing the rum has burnt out, and the beverage, of a syrupy
consistence, is ladled into the glasses. At eleven o'clock at night,
which is the hour of the police, the kneips are closed. For some years
it has been the practice in Heidelberg that a bell should be rung at
this hour, which should be the signal for all landlords to close their
houses. At first this order received much opposition from the students,
and they endeavoured to make it ridiculous. As the order was, that at
eleven the bells should be rung, on its first appearance in the
Heidelberg wochenblatt (newspaper), at this hour all the dogs of the
students ran about the city with bells hung to their necks, and their
masters, to fulfil the order to the letter, began, to the terror and
amaze of the inhabitants, to set all the bells of the private houses in
full swing.




                             CHAPTER XVIII.

                            NEW YEAR'S EVE.

            The year's last hour retreating,
              Peals out with solemn sound;
            Drink brothers! your last greeting,
              And wish him blessings round.
            'Tis gone! with gray years blended,
            That are for ever ended.
            It brought much gladness, many woes,
            And leaves us nearer to our close.
                                                     _Voss_.


The last evening of the year had arrived. It found the two friends
Hoffmann and Freisleben in the room of the latter, where the friends
were accustomed gladly to assemble. "Shall I light the lamp?" asked
Freisleben. "No! let us sit in the dark. When the eye does not distract
itself with outward objects, it then turns with delight to those images
which memory brings before the mind." So the two sate; and they thought
over all which this year had given and taken away; on all, after which
they had striven, and which they had achieved; and on much, after which
they had desired to strive and accomplish. Each was lost in this
internal review, and the silence was only broken by one of the friends
being so powerfully seized with the recollection of the past, that he
must communicate his feeling to the other. "So then," said Freisleben,
"another year of this beautiful university life is over! and when I
call to mind that this year is a quarter, or a fifth of the whole, the
words of a German writer are irresistibly forced upon me:--'The world
may easily roll on, as it has hitherto done, yet for a million years;
and in that period, five thousand years would be exactly proportionate
to a quarter of a year in the life of a man of fifty,--scarcely a
twelfth of our university life!' What have I done in the last quarter
of a year? Eaten, drunken, electrified, made a calendar, laughed over
the tricks of a kitten, and so are five thousand years of this little
world run out, in which I move!"

Hoffmann.--Away with this calculation! To embellish the life of our
friends, and to enjoy ourselves that life cheerily, that is the
business of existence.

Freisleben.--The time spent at the university is certainly the most
lovely time of our life; but even in that I am amazed to-day how one
can be so merry, when one recollects how much more of unpleasant than
pleasant the year has brought.

Hoffmann.--There I differ. Past pain is pleasant in memory, and past
pleasure is pleasure both future and present Thus, it is only present
and future pain that troubles us; a strong presumption of a sensible
preponderance of enjoyment in the world, which is augmented by this
circumstance, that we are constantly endeavouring to create enjoyment,
whose fruition we can, in many cases, foretell with tolerable
certainty, while, on the contrary, future pain can be much seldomer
prognosticated exactly.

"Yes, to be sure! That is now clear, and I understand it," said Von
Kronen, who had caught the end of this demonstration, "but that on
which I have been reflecting is not yet clear to me. Perhaps you
gentlemen who to-day are in so philosophical a mood can enlighten me
upon it."

Freisleben.--What will come of it then?

Von Kronen.--The phenomenon is one of the most mysterious in nature.
Yet--

Hoffmann.--Only out with it!

Von Kronen.--Tell me then how it comes to pass that cats have holes in
their skins exactly where their eyes are?

Hoffmann.--Thou whimsical herring!

Von Kronen.--Without a joke, this is one of the three riddles that I
will lay before you. If you can solve them, you shall smoke the whole
evening genuine Havanna cigars, that I have received from Hamburgh as a
Christmas present.

Freisleben.--That's worth something!

Hoffmann.--Samiel, help!

Von Kronen.--The first you have; so solve it.

Freisleben.--I will explain it to thee. The nose has here stretched the
skin too much outwards, so that it has cracked it on both sides,
exactly where the eyes are.

Von Kronen.--Well hit! Now for the second. Why do the hares sleep with
open eyes?

Hoffmann.--Because their skin is too short to permit them to shut their
eyes.

Von Kronen.--Bravo! Now the third. Where go the cats when they are
three years old?

Hoffmann.--With thy confounded cats! If the talk was of foxes, or of
some other reasonable cattle?

Von Kronen.--Yes! dear Lord Abbot[44] put it together, or I must
pronounce sentence of asses on you.

Hoffmann.--Stop! I have it. They go into their fourth year!

Von Kronen:--


            O damsel! O damsel! O damsel! now marry I thee,
                Now marry I thee!


Mr. Traveller enters.--How are you, gentlemen? What an Egyptian
darkness there is in the streets! It was all I could do to find the
house.

Hoffmann.--There is moonshine in the calendar to-day.

Freisleben.--The police regulations in our city are very much like the
clapper-mills in the cherry-trees. They stand still when the rattle is
most needed, and make a terrible larum when, on account of the high
wind, the sparrows don't come.

Von Kronen.--Tell me, Hoffmann, can a man blush red in the dark?

Hoffmann.--Another hard question! That a man may become pale with fear
in the dark, I can believe; but blush red scarcely, since a man may be
pale of himself, but blush only on account of himself and another.

Von Kronen.--Ay, that is true; but the question whether ladies can
become red in the dark is a very difficult question; at least, one that
cannot be settled in the light.

Freisleben.--Ask the magistrate why he does not light the streets
better; that would be much more serviceable than these subtleties.

Von Kronen.--Dear Freisleben, in a country where the eyes of people who
are in love shine in the dark, there is no need of lanterns.

Freisleben.--For thy satirical impertinence thou shalt go into the
streets with me, on a voyage of discovery after some red wine. We will
make booty of some bottles in one of the kneips, and then manufacture
some glee-wine. It will relish with the cigars.

Mr. Traveller.--Capital! Hoffmann! let us hasten out too. We will buy
sugar and spices.

Hoffmann.--Good! So every one makes himself a useful member of society.

In a short time all were again assembled; the table was moved forward
to the stove. A light odour of cigars filled the room, and the wine,
which was played around by the flames in the little coffee-kettle,
began to sing. The cloves were now thrown in, the guests each took
sugar, and Freisleben filled the glasses. Hoffmann had brought a guitar
with him, and accompanied on it the following song:--


                  Down, down with the sorrows
                    And troubles of earth!
                  For what is our life made
                    But drinking and mirth!

                  Drink, and be glad, sirs,
                    Laugh and be gay;
                  Keep sober to-morrow,
                    But drink to-day!

                  Love's a deceiver,--
                    He'll cheat if he can;
                  Sweet innocent woman
                    Is wiser than man!

                  Trust her not, trust her not,
                    She will deceive!
                  Who wins her may gather
                    The sea in a sieve!

                  Laying up money
                    Is labour and care;
                  All you have toiled for
                    Is spent by the heir!

                  Knowledge is wearisome,
                    Save when the wise
                  Study whole volumes
                    In beautiful eyes!

                  So, down with the sorrows
                    And troubles of earth!
                  For what was our life made
                    But drinking and mirth!

                  Then drink and be glad, sirs,
                    Laugh and be gay;
                  Keep sober to-morrow,
                    But drink to-day.
                              "Seven Temptations." By Mrs. Howitt.


All repeat the last verse, and drink.

Freisleben.--Mr. Traveller, that song originates in your Fatherland.
She who wrote it shall "live-hoch!" (They touch glasses.) Now, Von
Kronen, let us have a German one.

Von Kronen sings:--


                           THE SONG OF WINE.

            The song of wine is short and fine,
            And joy and drinking doth combine.
            Oh! he who cannot sing it yet,
            Will learn it now we here are met.
                              The song of wine, etc.

            Ye chat not long your cups among;
            Wine fires the spirit into song,
            He who can sing, high be his laud,--
            He who sings not can hum accord.
                              Ye chat not long, etc.

            Wine clears the blood, gives bolder mood,
            And makes the heart all mild and good.
            Wine is the death-blow to old Care!
            A glorious call to do and dare!
                              Wine clears, etc.

            The wine-elate, without estate,
            And without castle 's rich and great.
            Yes, gods we are when wine flows clear,
            And old Olympus yet stands here.
                              The wine-elate, etc.

            Join hand in hand; in Bacchus' land
            All men are free, and equal stand.
            O magic drink! thou noble wine!
            The golden age for ever's thine.
                              Join hand in hand, etc.


Freisleben.--Our absent friends shall live! (They touch glasses.)

Mr. Traveller.--Will they return soon?

Von Kronen.--We expect them to-morrow, and their Christmas presents,
which their Frau Mamma and Mamsel have given them. Pittschaft will be
well packaged again, who would not on any account fail to spend his
Christmas-eve in his Father-city.

Mr. Traveller.--The exchange of gifts at Christmas, as it is practised
in Germany, pleases me much; and I am especially delighted with the
Christ-tree.

Von Kronen.--Have you seen the huge tree at the Sattlermüllerei,[45]
where the Hanseatic students hold their Christmas?

Mr. Traveller.--No. Do the students then also present each other with
Christmas gifts?

Von Kronen.--One or other of the Chores frequently amuse themselves
with this sport. I recollect that a society to which I belonged agreed
to exchange Christmas gifts, of which none was to cost more than six
kreutzer--twopence English money. The most droll things imaginable were
brought on the occasion.

Hoffmann.--The glee-wine is famous; it warms one right through and
through. Let us sing a beautiful song. He plays and all sing.


                              TABLE-SONG.

                              FROM GOETHE.

                  Heavenly joy entrances me
                    Far beyond exploring;
                  Shall it one day bear me up
                    To the star-lands soaring?
                  Yet, in truth, remaining here,
                    More is to my liking;
                  By the wine-glass and the song--
                    On the table striking.

                  Friends, I pray ye, wonder not
                    At my thus deciding;
                  For no blessing yet is like--
                    On the earth abiding.
                  Therefore swear I solemnly,
                    Without all concealing,
                  That I shall not recklessly
                    Out of life be stealing.

                  But as here we all have met
                    Time to speed with pleasure;
                  Should, methinks, the Beakers chime
                    To the Poet's measure.
                  Good friends must, a hundred miles,
                    Move from one another;
                  Therefore you met here, stoest-an
                    Brother as with Brother!

                  Live then he who is of peace
                    And of good a donor!
                  First and foremost to our king,
                    His of right's the honour.
                  'Gainst all enemies, the state,
                    Still he doth defend it;
                  To uphold it planneth much;
                    Much more to extend it.

                  Now the next, salute I her,--
                    Her the true alone one!
                  And let each, as gallant knight,
                    Think upon his own one.
                  Should a lovely maiden guess
                    Her of whom I'm thinking;
                  Let her archly nod to me--
                    To her own love drinking.

                  To our friends!--the two or three--
                    Be the third cheer voicéd,
                  Who with us in sunny days
                    Quietly rejoicéd.
                  They who from our night the gloom
                    Swift and lightly scatter--
                  Lift to them a hearty--hoch!
                    Old friends, or the latter.

                  Broader now rolls on the stream
                    With augmented billows;
                  "Live they, hoch!" resound the cheer
                    Unto all good fellows.
                  They who with combined strength
                    Plant themselves together;
                  In the sunshine of good luck;
                    In the worst of weather!

                  As we are collected here,
                    Thousands are collected:
                  May their sports and joys run high--
                    Higher than expected.
                  From the spring unto the sea
                    Many mills are turning,
                  Wider far!--my heart streams out--
                    For the whole world burning!




                              CHAPTER XIX.

           NEW YEAR'S EVE CONTINUED--SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF
                         HEIDELBERG UNIVERSITY.


The company were raised into the best spirits by the song. The splendid
cigars, such as seldom wander to the banks of the Neckar; the sparkling
wine, which welled out of the little machine as inexhaustibly as cash
out of Fortunatus' purse--all contributed to render the conversation,
which turned on the recent festivity, animated and delicious. The
Christmas festival, one of the very few people's feasts, which divided
Germany yet maintained inviolably universal, had given especial
pleasure to the Englishman, to whom it was a novel circumstance. Above
all, he could not sufficiently extol a walk which his friends had taken
him on Christmas-eve.

He who has ever witnessed in Germany a celebration of Christ's gifts to
the children, knows well the joyful expectation with which the children
await in an adjoining room the ecstatic moment when the doors of
Paradise shall be opened to them. How beats their hearts, when at
length the bell rings, after whose sound they have for weeks long
yearned, and in anticipation of which, they have often calculated how
frequently the Sandman[46] must do his duty before that moment arrived.
And now, the instant that it is become dark, the impatience of the
little ones can be no more restrained, and in all, even the poorest
houses, the Bescherung, or distribution of the presents, begins. The
shutters on this evening are closed in scarcely any of the houses, so
that in the dark, as you pass along the streets, you see into the rooms
lit up and embellished for the occasion. The Christ-tree covered with
lights, throws its beams into the very darkness of the street; and the
jubilant cries of the rushing-in children are heard, as transported
with the view of their individual presents, they fly to each other to
show them. This scene his friends had brought to his observation, and
he could not sufficiently thank them for it.

A modest supper was now brought out; the friends seated themselves
round the table, and while they addressed themselves to discuss it,
they heard the reports of pistols every where resounding in the
streets. The conversation turned itself upon the festivity of the
present night, and on the different modes in which it is celebrated in
different countries.

"That shooting," said Freisleben, "is a pleasure that we will surrender
to other people; but the Vivat! we will help to accomplish. The Chores,
Mr. Traveller, which betake themselves this night to their kneips,
make, about twelve o'clock, a procession through the city, and bring to
some of the Professors a 'Lebe hoch!' But till the hour arrive, we will
endeavour to entertain ourselves with the recollection of a former
occasion of this kind. It is so natural, at the conclusion of the year,
for us to bring its circumstances once more before us, and with what
must ours knit themselves?--Certainly with the University-city. I
therefore make the proposal, that every one of us, in rotation, relate
something which has a particular reference to remarkable persons and
events, occurring or existing in Heidelberg in former times, and which
were never wanting in Ruperto-Carolo; and in order to make a worthy
beginning, our great historiographer, Von Kronen, may, as he lately was
on the point of doing, communicate some of the most striking passages
from the annals of the City of the Muses."

The proposal met with general acceptance. The glasses were again
replenished; the cigars sent their curling fumes into the air; and Von
Kronen, throwing himself back in the corner of the sofa, began--

Heidelberg is one of our most ancient university-cities. Heidelberg, in
the unfolding history of German science and German spirit, took a
distinguished stand, and yet exists it, in the full-grown image of this
scientific life of Germany, an important and essential member. At the
mention of this university, start up in the memory renowned names, the
recollection of great crises in the history of literature. It is, to
the whole student youth of Germany, the spot of promise and of desire.
It stands foremost amongst those German universities to which even from
abroad, from beyond the Rhine, the Alps, even the ocean, scholars
assemble themselves.

The most numerous and the most living traditions of German literature
and German spirit amongst the French and English, date from Heidelberg,
and Heidelberg is therefore pre-eminently the representative of our
education, the type of the German universities, with those nations.

The founding of the university took place in the year 1386; a period in
which, though literature flourished in Italy, a deep night still
brooded over Germany. The then Emperor Charles IV. had erected a school
of general study at Prague, on the model of the Paris university;
and the advantages of this institution could not escape the eyes
of the Elector, a friend of the Emperor's, in his frequent visits to
Prague--advantages which were derived to the whole country from this
establishment. He, therefore, resolved to erect a university in his
city of residence, Heidelberg. On the other hand, the foundation of the
university had a political object. It was intended to prove an
instrument for advancing the interests of Pope Urban VI., whose
partisan Rupert I. of the Pfalz was. In this cause it stood forth in
opposition to the university of Paris, which had declared for the other
pope, Clement VII. Notwithstanding this circumstance, it was equally
formed on the model of that of Paris, and received part of its first
teachers thence. As there, the scholastic studies acquired an exclusive
influence. Theology was in the ascendant; the Aristotelian philosophy,
and the Canon Law, followed in immediate connexion; medicine, somewhat
later, raised itself out of its scanty beginnings. Dialectical
contentions take up nearly the whole of the early history of the
university. Yet it is to be remarked, that the returned spirit of
living experience announced itself, as it had earlier done here,
through the predominance of Nominalism. Perhaps the study itself of the
physical writings of Aristotle, slight and confined as it always was,
might lay the first foundation of the empirical researches into nature;
which later, here, as in Paris, came forth so conspicuously. On the
contrary, the university closed itself resolutely against the humanity
tendency, which penetrated into Germany out of Italy, and which Philip
the Upright also was anxious to plant in Heidelberg; but which
Frederick II., and his successor Otto Henry, were the first to
accomplish, preparing thereby a way for the Classical languages and
literature themselves. Through Micyle, Ehem, and Melancthon, the
university was reorganized; the predominance of the theological faculty
restrained; and thus, together with the philosophical and humanity
studies, a wider circle of operation opened to the practical sciences.
The study of law flourished under excellent teachers; in the faculty of
medicine professorships of therapeutics, pathology, and physiology,
were established.

The storm which now burst out in the train of the Reformation reduced
the universities to great straits; religion became matter of politics,
and the personal connexions and opinions of the princes, determined
often in a very powerful manner the course of knowledge. The
unfortunate embarrassments of the Elector Frederick V., led to the
storming of the castle of Heidelberg by the Bavarians; to the expulsion
of the professors and students; to the sending away of the valuable
library; and finally, to the total suppression of the university. Carl
Frederick had it entirely to reinstate anew. He did it with a noble
zeal, in the spirit and according to the needs of the time. The most
distinguished teachers, as Cocijus, Spina, Frank, Freinsheime, and
Textor, were called to it; a professorship for State and Popular law,
the first founded in Germany, was established; and entrusted to the
celebrated originator of this new doctrine, Samuel Puffendorf. A freer
spirit arose in both speech and writing; and Carl Ludwig laid it under
no restraint.

New agitations of the time, again disturbed this happy condition of the
university; the political rule changed with the personal affairs of the
princes; and literature felt the influence of this, in the strongest
and most immediate manner. The teaching of philosophy was at a later
period made over to the Lazarists; a dark reaction commenced against
the liberal spirit; and at the same time that the peculiar speculative
element of Heidelberg university fell into the shade, the empirical
sciences rose up again into new existence on all sides.

A society had already, in 1734, established itself under the auspices
of Professor Heuresius, for the cultivation of the history of the
Fatherland, which however fell again. In 1769, a philosophical and
economical society was founded in Lautern; and in 1774, a school of
state economy. Both of these were removed to Heidelberg in 1784, and
richly furnished with books and collections. From Heidelberg went forth
the first impulse towards a scientific treatment of the doctrines of
State economy.

The House of Zähringen now stepping into possession of the Pfalz, thus
presided over the university. The second of the newly acquired
territories, the Breisgau, erected in the university of Freiburg a
rival to Heidelberg; a circumstance which was not without its effect on
the latter. By the removal of the Catholic seminary to Freiburg, the
scope and operation of the theological Faculty in Heidelberg were
strikingly constringed; but only the stronger, and in this respect in
opposition to the Freiburg university, and in more conspicuous
superiority, advanced the other Faculties of Heidelberg, especially the
judicial and medicinal, and of the philosophical, the section of state
economy; which last, through the new organization of the university,
constituted an especial department, and was placed in rank, at the head
of the philosophical. This scientific tendency has raised itself on the
preponderating necessity of the nation and the times; upon it grounded
itself the fame and consideration of Heidelberg in foreign countries;
and the new government was sagacious enough not to disturb this natural
and historical position of the university by ill-timed interference.
The demands of modern education were so far conceded to, that, by
calling into it men of the highest celebrity in all departments, a
combination of the various ruling tendencies of the spirit of the
times, a universality of studies, was attempted. The two Vosses were
won in order to give new splendour to the university, and demonstrate
the taste for classicality; and a new impetus was given to the novel
speculative tendencies in philosophy and theology.

But it soon became sufficiently convincing that these elements of
education did not naturally assimilate themselves to the scientific
life of Heidelberg, but were only artificially engrafted; that
Heidelberg has not its mission to represent in itself the spirit of
modern science and art; but the simple vocation of working out
education and accomplishment suited to the necessities and interests of
the practical life of the state and of civil offices, in both their
wider and their more circumscribed spheres. It was then suffered to
retain the character which it had established for itself, and those
endeavours to force it into directions which did not naturally
originate in its own bosom and nature, were discontinued. Thus it came
to pass that the philosophy and the speculative theology altogether
dragged; that the classical and antiquarian studies became one-sided;
that even in the practical sciences certain methods became prevalent;
that the electrical shocks of the stream of the new literary topics and
of scientific revolutions in vain thundered and lightened and raged
round the professors of the old--professors who, from their isolated
stools, smiled over that rushing and confused scene of excitement; and
that the men of modern culture, the genial spirits, the speculative
heads, with one voice called down anathemas on that Heidelberg
Philisterium. But this anathematized Heidelberg Philisterium yet
possesses an internal strength and freshness, with which the hollow
inflation of the _soi-disant_ intellectual world found it difficult to
measure itself; these old gentlemen, who seem so far removed from the
spirit of the age, yet rest themselves in the real soil of the time, in
the spirit of the period, in the progression of political and social
life, far deeper than those genialists who in high-sounding theories
and systems imagine that they have seized on the world-spirit. This
scientific life which seems to stagnate, flows on without intermission
noiselessly, steadily, but not by fits and starts.

Hoffmann.--The old gentlemen shall live, and to their health we will
rub a salamander. Every one prepare a half-glass, and then I will
command.

All seize their glasses, which are half-filled. They rub with them on
the table in circles before them, all the time saying--"Salamander,
salamander, salam--," Hoffmann commands, One, two, three! and at the
three the glasses are emptied; One, two, three! they are again set down
on the table altogether with a clap, where they continue rattling with
them, till the command again One, two, three! when they are all lifted
aloft, and at the final command once more set down altogether on the
table with a thump.




                              CHAPTER XX.

      NEW YEAR'S EVE CONTINUED.--UNIVERSITY STORIES.--VON PLAUEN.


Hoffmann.--I will now, for a change, give some passages from the life
and deeds of a hero, whom, were I a Zachariä, I would celebrate in a no
less magnificent epic than he has done the exploits of his Renommist.
The Herr von Plauen, to whom I allude, studied for more than ten years
here, and enacted more mad pranks than the whole united university
besides would have been able to do. He was a little, broad-set fellow,
of prepossessing exterior and expressive countenance, who stood
particularly well with the ladies. His uncommon strength; his
accomplishment in all bodily exercises; his overflowing humour
continually gushing forth in witty conceits, procured him a constant
good reception in the student world, and in the social circles of the
city; and he long played in his Chore, as well as in the ball-room, a
distinguished part, till his total sacrifice of character, and his
really reprehensible actions, which were all alike to him so long as
they carried him to his object, completed his ruin. By his strength he
frequently put to shame the travelling Hercules who exhibit their
powers for money; since, poising himself on a perpendicular pole, he
would stretch himself out horizontally, so as to form a right angle
with the pole, and at his pleasure, could double up strong silver
coins. In the gymnastic ground, which yet existed, no one could stand
against him; and in the fencing-school he beat down every one's guard.
As he once travelled in the Upper-Rhine country without a passport, and
a _gendarme_ on horseback, would have detained him, he threw both the
man and his horse into the ditch by the roadside, and so left them. He
was especially expert in the then so-much-liked shooting of geese, and
thus made many a Philistine the poorer. Understand me right, Mr.
Traveller; to shoot, in studenten phrase, means to abstract without yet
doing any thing unjust or contrary to honour; since, especially in the
olden times, this was a student custom. Small things, as penknives,
sticks, etc., if they were not dedicated, were shootable. One might
take them from another, and with the words--"This is shot," he took
possession of them. It may easily be conceived that it was only the
elder students who indulged themselves in this practice against the
Foxes, and no one could secure himself from this Spartan plundering but
by instantly declaring a thing, which another seemed to have a design
upon,--unshootable.

Von Kronen.--This expression dates itself from the practices of the
schools of the fifteenth century. As then the teacher, with his
helpers, was only engaged by the inhabitants of a place there for a
year or so; so if the parties disagreed, the master, with his
assistants, to whom generally a number of boys added themselves,
proceeded from land to land, and supported themselves with alms, with
singing before the houses, and with all manner of petty plunderings.
The scholars, who stood expressly under the protection of the
assistants, must deliver to them geese, ducks, hens, and the like,
which they became very expert in carrying off from the villages, and
which, in their language, they termed shooting.

Hoffmann.--I have never before heard of this custom of antiquity. It is
a pity that so beautiful a practice is become obsolete, or I could, as
a musician, make most profitable use of it.

Freisleben:--


            Friends beloved! there were finer times once
            Than are these times--that must be conceded,--
            And a nobler people lived ere we did.


Hoffmann.--But to come back to our story. Herr von Plauen possessed a
more admirable dexterity in shooting than any of the schoolboys just
referred to could possibly have; and no wonder,--as they were only
schoolboys, and he was a student. Plenty of stories are related of him;
how he twisted the neck of many a living goose, and popped them under
his cloak; how with ladder and hook, he brought many a plucked goose
down from the lofty store-room; yes, and how he came most easily at one
ready stuffed and roasted.

On Holy St. Nicholas's-day, a worthy citizen of the place, whose little
son also was called Nicholas, prepared a feast for some guests, the
chief ornament of which was a goose, as fine as ever gabbled and
screamed in the Pfalz. The goose was carried up; the guests had not,
however, yet made their appearance, but the little son was impatient,
and howling and crying desired a slice from the goose. The father
strove in vain to quiet him; he howled and cried on. "Then," said the
old man, "I will give the goose to the Pelznickel." (In our country
there goes from house to house, on St. Nicholas's-day, fellows in
disguise, who inquire into the past behaviour of the children, and give
to the good ones apples, nuts, and little cakes, but warn the bad and
threaten them with the rod. These disguised personages are styled
Pelznickel.) With the word the old man set the dish with the goose in
it on the outside of the window! This frightened the little one; he
promised to be quiet if the father would take the goose in again;
whereupon the father reached the dish in again, but to his astounding,
the goose was gone! It was already rapidly on its way to the city of
Dusseldorf, (a Wirthshaus in Heidelberg), where the Herr von Plauen and
his companions found it smack right delectably with their red wine.

A similar passage once befell our hero in the village Schlangenbach,
where he was for a long time the guest of the Amtmann. They both, he
and the Amtmann, who had himself been a lusty student, made a call on
the Frau Pfarrerin, the parson's lady. They talked of this and that; of
husbandry, and of poultry and geese. "Ay," said the parson's lady, "I
have a goose hanging above; you may match it if you can. But with what
care and labour have I fed it myself; and stuffed it myself with the
best Indian corn that was to be got. But, gentlemen, you shall judge
for yourselves. I invite you next Sunday to discuss this famous goose."

"And yet," said Plauen, "I will wager that the Amtmann has one that is
quite as good."

"Impossible!" exclaimed the Frau Pfarrerin.

"Amtmann," rejoined Plauen, "you won't admit that! I challenge you to
invite the Frau Pfarrerin and her husband to-morrow, Saturday, also to
eat a goose, and we will afterwards see which goose is the best."

"Done!" said the Amtmann.

"We'll see!" said the parson's lady.

The residence of the plucked goose was soon ascertained by the two. It
was up in the chamber in the roof, where it hung, and made many
ornamental swings and gyrations in the wind that blew through the
dormant windows. It was a ravishing sight, which the world only was
allowed to enjoy for this one day. It was brought away in the night,
and the next day at noon, most deliciously dressed, was served up
before the invited guests.

"Now, how does the goose please you, Herr Pfarrer?" asked Plauen.

"My husband understands nothing of the matter," interposed the Frau
Pfarrerin, "but I tell you the goose is good, but mine is much better.
You shall convince yourselves; that I promise you."

Alas! the Frau Pfarrerin was not able to keep her word; for on the
morrow she became aware, to her horror, that her plucked goose had
taken a greater flight than it had ever done while it was yet
unplucked. She was excessively annoyed; and to propitiate her, the
waggish companions sent her a handsome cotton dress. On the package was
inscribed--"A dressing for the goose." The good woman was completely
conciliated, and highly delighted; but her husband thought that the
words would bear more than one construction.

Freisleben:--


            The Pfarrer's wits were sharp and sound,
            So let us all drink to him round.       (They drink.)


Hoffmann continued.--Another time, in a cold winter, he put, one night,
the figure of Hercules, which adorns the Brunnen in the market-place, a
shirt on, much to the bewonderment of the market people when they
arrived in the place the next morning. Another time, as it was the
fair, the students, at his suggestion, got all the strolling organists
together in the fair, who each kept on playing a different tune, which,
with the accompaniment of the barking of their assembled dogs, produced
the most astounding effect.

I must relate yet another of his tricks, which, however, he played off
in another university city directly before he came to Heidelberg. An
innocent youth, who was just come raw from the school, recognised in
Herr von Plauen a countryman, and begged of him, as he would go away
the next day, that he would accompany him to one of the professors, in
order to enter himself as an attendant of his lectures, as he really
did not know how it was proper to conduct himself on such an occasion.

"With pleasure," answered Von Plauen, gave the Fox at once his arm, and
conducted him to one of the professors, who was completely deaf. As
they entered the room, the rogue presented the new-comer, with the
words,--"Here, thou old Philistine! I bring thee a young gentleman who
will do thee the favour to listen to thy lectures. Take care, however,
that thou art not too tedious with him, for he is my friend."

The startled Fox seemed to have dropped at once out of the clouds as he
heard his friend speak in this manner, and his astonishment mounted to
its height as he heard him again say, as he took his leave--"Farewell,
old Camel!" which salutation the professor answered with a very
gracious bow.

"But for God's sake, then," asked the Fox, "may one then speak in this
manner to a professor of the university?"

"So, and no otherwise," replied he, "must you address them all; they
are accustomed to nothing else; and moreover, they soon lose all
respect for him who does not cock his thumb a little at them. Besides
this, I have been particularly civil to-day, that I might not astonish
thee too much, as is the case generally with youths when they first
come from the school. But thou wilt quickly acquire the proper tone."

"O! if it comes to that," said the Fox, "I'll soon be ready for the
gentlemen."

Von Plauen laughed in his fist as he rode forth the next morning
through the city-gate; and he soon learnt by letters that his protégé,
in proceeding to enter himself with the next professor, whom he
addressed in the same style, was speedily sent head foremost down the
steps, as he had unluckily happened to come across a professor who not
only had an excellent pair of ears, but a very fiery temper.

Some pranks which our hero permitted himself afterwards, laid the
commencement of his fall. Once he feigned himself delirious, raged and
cried out, for no purpose, but to have the pleasure of spitting in the
face of the physician who was called in, having, as it is asserted by
some, betted a considerable wager on this point.

He spared the fair sex as little in his wild conceits; which were not,
however, always very graciously received. He asked permission from one
lady in the open street to be allowed to light his pipe at her eyes.
Another time, a carriage, in which were some ladies setting out to the
ball, being drawn up across a narrow street, up which he was coming, he
opened the door, sprung in, and out at the other door, followed by all
his companions in succession, about twenty in number. Once he went with
his acquaintance to walk in the Heidelberg Castle. It began to rain
heavily, and the mistress of a ladies' school, with her pupils, had
taken refuge in the so-called Octagonal House, on the terrace, which
was then not completely closed, and had only one entrance. This the
wild troop beset, and refused egress to the young ladies, except on the
condition that each student should be favoured with a kiss from one of
the ladies. The ladies heard the proposal with horror, and long held
out siege in the little building; but as night was fast approaching,
and not a soul appeared within view, or hearing, on account of the bad
weather, they were at length compelled by necessity to accept the
horrid condition, and were then conducted safely home by the wilful
students. By this exploit, however, Von Plauen, sunk dreadfully in
credit with the world of beauty, as he was well known and immediately
recognised.

Finally, our hero was counselled or ordered to withdraw himself, for a
stated period, from the university on account of his repeated duels,
and concluded with himself to pass the half-year of his exile in the
Hessian Neckarsteinach. As he was intending to withdraw without paying
his debts, he found that his testimonial was taken possession of by his
landlady: for Mr. Traveller, you are perhaps aware, that if a creditor
fears that a student meditates quitting the university without
satisfying his just claims, he lays before the Amtmann of the
university the amount of his bill, and the exit-testimonial, without
which a student cannot be admitted to another university, is refused
him till he has discharged his debts. Plauen immediately procured all
the Hellers (each in value of the twelfth of a penny English, or two
hundred and forty to the gulden, or twenty-pence English) that the
place afforded, and sent them, to the whole amount of his debt, to the
poor landlady in a bag, which, of so small a coin, were so many as took
her several days to count them out.

On a fine spring day he was, to every one's astonishment, seen dressed
as for a festival, leading in a rich silk riband, a lamb gaily adorned
with flowers, along the banks of the Neckar. To those who wondered at
his proceedings, he said that this was the custom of his Fatherland on
that particular day. So went he on to Ziegelhausen, where he spent the
night, and where he was the better entertained at the Wirthshaus,
because he had attracted many people into the house by this unusual
spectacle. The next morning he made a present of his lamb, which,
however, was speedily reclaimed by its real owner, from whom Plauen had
"shot" it; and then betook himself to Neckarsteinach. Here he played
the pious Catholic. On Corpus Christi day, when the Catholics parade in
solemn procession round the town, singing and praying, and say mass at
certain altars which are erected in the open air, he followed the
priest, himself clothed for the occasion, and carried the train of his
robe. Soon afterwards he showed every where a letter sealed with black,
which he professed to contain the intelligence of his mother's death.
Every one took the deepest interest in his apparently deep-felt grief,
and the more so as he caused masses to be said in all the churches
whose priests he had before so much flattered. His mother, however,
lived long afterwards, and the whole was only invented on purpose to
have the masses said. Equally false was a later assertion, that he had
received information that they had appointed him a canon in his
Fatherland; and from that time he went about the little place in full
costume, and carrying a cross.

When the period of his banishment was completed, he returned to the
city on a day in the evening of which there was to be a ball. An
officer who was a countryman of his, then resided in Heidelberg, and
had frequently visited him in Neckarsteinach. He hastened to his house,
and then found that he was absent on a journey. As an old acquaintance,
he ordered his rooms to be opened, managed easily to open his commode,
and to draw out a new uniform of the officer's. Into this, which was
indeed much too tight for him, he forced himself, and appeared in it
that evening at the ball, where he told the people one lie upon
another, of his having succeeded to this new post of honour. He looked,
however, comical enough in the uniform, which was so narrow that when
his partner in the dance let fall her rosette, he was not able to stoop
to pick it up for her.

Von Plauen soon found again a swarm of acquaintance, and again played
over his old tricks. One of his acquaintances received from his native
town, which was somewhere not very far distant, a large and most famous
cheese, and a hamper of good wine. The others soon got wind of it, and
wanted to persuade him to make a merriment over these things. But he
assured them that he could not touch a single thing of them, as he
expected an immediate visit from his family. His father, he said, had
written him that he yet hoped to eat of the cheese with him, and to
drink a glass of the wine with him; and on that account he should leave
every thing untouched till they arrived.

They pressed him no farther, but one day at noon, as the lawless set
knew that he was fast at his lecture in the college, they rushed into
his chamber, drank the wine, and filled the bottles with water; and the
cheese they scooped so skilfully out from beneath, that nothing but the
outward rind remained standing. They set it again in the dish so that
nothing was to be seen. It may be imagined what was the poor fellow's
dismay as he set the cheese before his newly-arrived relations, and saw
it, at the first cut, fall into mere fragments of peel; and what a face
the old man made as he came to taste of that flat water instead of his
famous Rhine-wine.

Soon afterwards, the student thus treated, missed a sum of money, of
some three hundred gulden, which had been remitted him in order to
defray the expenses contingent on the taking of his doctoral
examination. Von Plauen, who had spent the night with him shortly
before the theft was discovered, fell under strong suspicion, more
especially, as, at the same time, he was accused of forging bills of
exchange. He was thrown into the university prison, and his examination
begun. But he did not await his sentence. One evening, as he knew that
the fat beadle to whom the care of the prison was entrusted, remained
alone in the house, he tore the lock from the door with his hands and
hastened down into the beadle's room. The beadle had the keys belonging
to the different rooms in the house, just then in his hand,--"How came
you here, Herr von Plauen?" demanded he. The prisoner seized a knife
that lay on the table, and warned him that if he did not deliver up to
him the keys, he would stick the knife into his fat paunch. The
terrified man instantly surrendered the keys; the prisoner shut him in
his own room, secured him, and escaped from the house. He hastened over
the bridge. There he threw himself over the gate, which then was closed
every evening; but he stepped up to the window of the gatekeeper,
knocked, and laid down a kreutzer, saying, "I will cheat no man of his
money."

He was pursued, but without avail; and various reports are in
circulation concerning his latter fortunes. Some say that he became a
fencing-master in England, and yet lives there; others, that he
continually gave himself more and more to drinking, and finally died in
the hospital of a great German city, where, in the last hour, he called
for a choppin of beer, and drank it off.

Freisleben.--So let us, in a better liquor, wish that he had left a
better memory. His tricks, if they were not always the best, have at
least served to amuse us; and so may it go well with him in the other
world, where, as his deeds certainly could not conduct him upwards, let
us hope, though somewhat against hope, that a deep and final repentance
prevented his going inevitably downwards.

They touch glasses.


                       STORY OF THE BLACK PETER.

Mr. Traveller, the turn now comes to you to relate something; but it
really is a difficult task for you to have to relate something which is
connected with Heidelberg.

Mr. Traveller.--Luckily I have recently heard the history of the life
of a student, who formerly studied here, and I think it is sufficiently
interesting;--I shall, therefore, relate as much of it as I recollect.

Some twenty or thirty years ago, a young man came to Heidelburg, whose
name was Schwartzkopf, a native of Fulda in Hesse. His father had been
an officer in the Hessian service, but he died early, and his widow was
compelled to straiten herself severely, in order to be able to educate
her only son out of the proceeds of her small property, and still
smaller pension. Nature had made amends to the son of the widow for his
poverty by many fine endowments of person and mind, and proudly gazed
the affectionate mother on her darling son, as with little solid cash,
but on that account with the more well-intended exhortations, and with
many tears, she dismissed him on his journey to the university. Many
were the anxieties that filled her mind when she thought that her son
indeed possessed a good heart, but was still very giddy and of easily
persuaded mind. He, with joyful spirits, and full of good resolves,
proceeded to his new place of residence. He studied the greater part of
the first year with zeal, and he wanted not good friends with whom he
could spend his hours of the Muses in the most agreeable manner. His
evil angel then caused him to be involved in a duel, and on this
occasion he made some acquaintances that were of disastrous influence
to him. Through them he became acquainted with play, to which he soon
gave himself up passionately. It is true that at first he played only
in his leisure hours, when his old friends were not about him; but he
soon came to neglect these, and his leisure hours soon became
continually less and less able to satisfy his desire for play, and then
his studies were sacrificed. His friends grew tedious to him, because
they had other interests; his books were covered with thick dust; and
if he sometimes attended the lectures, they showed only how far he had
fallen behind in the race of knowledge, and he hastened in vexation to
the kneip, in order to drown in beer and play the upbraidings of his
conscience. Thus he continued to live on for a long time; he returned
to his room only to pass the night, even not that always. In the
morning he fled from it as early as possible, because all there looked
desolate. His books were at length sold, and by degrees he had disposed
of every thing to the Jews, except the wretched clothes on his back, in
order to feed his unhappy passion. Many a time would he fall into a
horror, when he awoke out of a dream, which had carried him back into
his early life, and saw around him that empty room, or when he received
a letter from his affectionate mother, which was full of tender
warnings,--from his mother, who denied herself even the most necessary
things, that he might not want that money which he thus consumed on his
ruinous habits. But these terrible reflections drove him only for a
brief space out of his wild life, for he was already too deep sunk in
it, and felt no longer the strength necessary to work himself out of
the gulf.

It was then that he one day received a letter addressed by a strange
hand, and sealed with black. His mother was dead, and the letter was
from his guardian. Far as Schwartzkopf was already fallen, yet this
letter deeply shook him; it embittered the melancholy intelligence
beyond words, since his guardian, a severe man, wrote him, that he had
driven not a few nails into his mother's coffin; that he had wasted his
property; that he should immediately return home, in order to be made
acquainted with the real state of his affairs, which left him little
other alternative than that of becoming a soldier in the ranks. His
state of mind for the first few days was horrible, and he was at the
very point of self-destruction; but this went by, and he concluded,
after more quiet reflection, that it was the best to turn his footsteps
homewards, in order, if possible, to move his guardian to more moderate
measures, or, came it to the worst, to enlist into the army. His debts
were paid, and he put up the slender remains of his possessions in his
knapsack, with which, early one morning, he passed through the gate
leading towards Frankfort.

In the evening of the second day he had arrived in a great wood, which
extended towards Fulda. The forest seemed to stretch itself out
endlessly before him. It was already nearly dark; and a violent wind
against which he had to labour, bent the tall and gloomy pines, which
groaned awfully. Full of melancholy he wandered forward; the memory of
the past came over him with subduing power; and he almost wished that
one of the mighty trees might be dashed down by the tempest, and bury
him in its fall. He began to sing a song, in order to chase away those
painful thoughts,--when, as he turned an angle of the path, a rough
voice cried "Halt!" and at once three men sprung out of the bush. The
coarse hunting-garb, the pistols and hangers with which they were
armed, and the disguised faces, left him in no doubt that they were
some of the gang that kept that part of the country in disquiet.

The student feared them not; fear had never been any part of his
nature, and least of all now, when life to him was made indifferent by
despair.

"Leave me alone," said he, "I have nothing for you."

"But with your permission," said one of the robbers, "we will make a
rather nearer acquaintance with your knapsack."

"With all my heart," answered the student quietly, handing over to them
the knapsack, at the same time that he filled his pipe, and asked one
of them for a light, as he had himself lost his fire-apparatus. He
seated himself to rest on a block of stone by the side of the road, and
requested the robbers not to detain him too long, as he had yet far to
go to his night's quarters. They could not refrain from a laugh at the
_sang froid_ of the student.

"You seem to me sad fellows," said Schwartzkopf, "that you don't
understand your business better; at thirty paces distance you might
have seen very well, that you would get nothing, from me."

"Be silent, hound!" cried one of them, "or in a moment we will cut thy
throat."

"And a right noble deed too," added the student, "for three men to cut
the throat of one. If you were not miserable Philistines, I should be
obliged to call upon one of you to give satisfaction for that word,
hound!"

"By all the devils, he is right, Heiner," said another; "he has a right
to it, since he has shown himself so brave, and as there is nothing in
the knapsack, except a few miserable articles of covering."

"Does the fellow think I'm afraid of him?" cried Heiner.

"Ay, to be sure I do," said the student, quietly smoking on. The robber
was raging, and demanded on the instant to fight the audacious student;
but his comrades disapproved of it. It was too dangerous an undertaking
to decide this affair on the highway. They proposed to adjourn to their
encampment; and offered in a manner friendly enough to the student, if
he were not killed in the combat, to give him quarters for the night.
He was obliged to content himself with the matter, and so they put
themselves in motion. They went on long, still deeper and deeper into
the thick of the wood, and on the way made inquiries from the student,
whom they watched pretty well, as to the circumstances of his life;
which he related to them truly.

At length they came to an open place in the forest. Here the
surrounding hills formed a sort of basin, which on the one side was
shielded from the wind by a pile of rocks, and on the other by a screen
of stupendous trees. A little spring gushing out from the foot of the
rocks, wound itself through the carpet of grass, upon which the
robber-troop, consisting of about twenty men with their wives and
children, had built some huts. The sentinels on the outposts had first
announced their approach, and they were speedily surrounded by the
troop. When they learned the intention of Heiner and the student, they
gave it their hearty applause; and as soon as all had refreshed
themselves with food and drink, a battle-ground was selected;
Schwartzkopf received a hanger, and the robbers formed a circle round
the combatants. The women kindled great pine-torches, in order properly
to light up the scene.

The robber fiercely attacked his opponent; and the whole scene had a
singular aspect. The powerfully built figures of the men, whose bold
features yet more strongly stood forth in the light of the torches, as
they, smoking their short pipes, looked on the strife, full of
expectation of its issue; and the women dispersed amongst them in
singular and various attire, which they had selected for themselves out
of the plundered stores. All watched the fight in deep silence; which
was only broken by the clattering of the swords, the dashing of the
water, and the rush of the winds as they raged through the woods. The
student, by far superior to his antagonist in skill of fence, parried
with the utmost coolness, quietly meeting with his sword every blow of
his opponent; but as the robber began to press upon him closer and
closer in a furious attack, he suddenly struck in before the stroke of
his adversary, and in the same instant the robber let his sword drop,
and the blood spouted hotly from the arm-wound through his sleeve.

The men had seen the contest with astonishment; the arm of the wounded
robber was bound up, and the rest of them gathered together in a group
in earnest consultation. The student continued standing alone, doubtful
whether he should make an attempt at escape, or should wait the upshot
of the consultation, which might be fatal to him. He concluded to wait.

A robber now stepped up to him, and said, "Our captain fell in a
skirmish a few days ago. We have all seen, with admiration, your
perfect coolness, your courage, and your swordsmanship; when you arrive
at home little good awaits you; remain with us, and be our captain, and
so will you find a better life than amongst those miserable soldiers."
Schwartzkopf hesitated only a short time. He weighed the attraction of
the proposal against the life which he had otherwise before him. He
reflected how dangerous it would be to refuse; and if scruples arose in
his mind, he silenced them again by the thought that he could again
give up this life when he pleased. After a short rumination, he gave
his pledge of adhesion and fidelity to the robbers. The intelligence
spread itself with rapidity through the whole robber troop; the wives
brought wine-cups, and all drank to the health and prosperity of the
new captain. They caroused till deep in the night, and drank
brotherhood to Schwartzkopf, who, under the name of Black Peter, was
speedily known and feared through the whole country round.

About half a year from this event had flown away. The complaints of the
country people in the neighbourhood of Fulda, of the oppressions of the
robber band, had ceased. But from time to time it undertook greater
exploits, with such calculation and astonishing boldness, as testified
the new spirit that was come amongst them since they were led by the
Black Peter. The real name of Peter Schwartzkopf, from which this was
derived, was not recognised. The former student, of whom people had so
often read in the newspapers, was believed to be dead, or to have
fallen into the hands of the recruiting officer, and to serve in
foreign lands. The captain, however, was known as the Black Peter, from
two other causes. He always wore a black mask; and he had never been
seen otherwise than riding on a black horse. The inquietudes of the war
had hitherto made impossible any earnest attempt to put down those
disturbers of the public security; and this was rendered the more
difficult as the band never lingered long in one and the same place,
but, immediately after the perpetration of some bold deed, vanished
from their haunt, and exchanged it for the Bergstrasse, or the country
of the Main.

Already the storm of war had retired many weeks from the neighbourhood
of Fulda, and the robber band appeared also to have left the country,
perhaps out of fear of a more vehement pursuit. The inhabitants of the
little city of Schlüchten rejoiced themselves in the prospect of the
enjoyment of a more refreshing rest than they had for a long time been
favoured with.

One afternoon a heavily loaded travelling-carriage rolled slowly into
the city, and aroused universal attention as it drew up before the
Gasthaus Zum-Stern. A swarm of lounging Bauers collected about it, and
out of every window peered curious countenances. But how much greater
was the astonishment as the people learned from the coachman and valet,
who, both of them clad in military costume, looked, in their mustaches,
most formidable fellows, that their master, a Graf of high standing,
had been attacked on the way by robbers, and now lay severely wounded
in the carriage; and that they only owed their escape and life to the
fortunate interposition of a patrol party belonging to the Graf's own
regiment.

At this intelligence the whole city was thrown into an uproar, and not
the least the landlord of the Star, who with his loud and eager orders
for the proper care of the noble gentleman, made the heads of all his
people dizzy. The stranger Graf was finally lifted out of the carriage
by his servants, aided by some of the others. He was a tall, stately
man, pale with the loss of blood; his eyes were closed, and many deep
wounds in the head were only rudely and hastily bound up. While he was
carried to his bed and given into the care of the surgeon, who was
called in, the Amtmann was hastily sent for; and, from the statements
of the coachman, who caused at the same time his own arm-wounds to be
bound up, dictated to his clerk a long protocol. The whole police
corps, with an addition of some armed Bauers, immediately set out in
pursuit of the robbers, without, however, being able to discover the
least trace of them.

In the meantime the stranger lay in the most frightful delirium. The
servants forbade any one, besides the surgeon, from entering the room;
such, they said, being the orders of their lord. The surgeon wondered
sometimes at the fearful phantoms that haunted the imagination of the
strange nobleman, which the servants calmly remarked proceeded entirely
from the last battle, and from the attack of the robbers.

For some days the Graf hovered between life and death, but shortly a
decided improvement manifested itself in him; and after many weeks he
was so far recovered, as to be able to receive the visits of the first
people of the place, who anxiously desired to make the acquaintance of
so distinguished a personage; and indeed, shortly afterwards, to return
them. He styled himself Graf Pappenheim; gave out that he was a native
of the north of Germany, and had quitted his regiment on account of a
difference with his superior officer, and was about to retire to his
estate. He possessed a great partiality for Hesse, as his mother was a
native of that state, whence he himself had a Hessian accent in his
speech, which was strong enough to strike the ear of the people. In
short, the Graf was a most genteel man in society, had the most
agreeable manners, and was soon a favourite in all the circles of the
little city. When the Bauers had at first seen the many heavy chests of
the stranger, they said, "he is a rich man, the Graf;" and said they
again, with one accord, as they saw him first ride out on a black
horse, purchased of the Chief Forest-master, "he is a very handsome
man, the Graf."

The Graf brought a new life into the little city; he was the soul of
all companies, and himself gave the finest entertainments in the Star;
in short, he had always something new with which to entertain society.
He treated every one with the most condescending courtesy, but above
all the lovely daughter of the Chief Forest-master, who was not a
little envied on that account by the other ladies. As it now one day
became known that the Graf had proposed for the Forester's lovely
daughter, and contemplated buying an estate for himself in the
neighbourhood for his future abode, many of the young ladies made truly
a sour face; but all said, "We have long thought that," and hastened to
present to the young lady their congratulations.

The marriage was immediately afterwards celebrated at the new castle of
the Graf, with the greatest eclat. About five miles from the city lay,
in the midst of a wood--a former hunting castle of the prince--a
wide-stretching building. This the Graf had recently purchased. The
Chief Forest-master thought indeed the castle much too solitary, and of
too great an extent; but his son-in-law quieted him on that head, with
the prospect of the noble hunting which they could here enjoy together.
That the carriage was always at the command of his wife, and he hoped
constantly to have company from the city with him. The extensive
accommodation was, moreover, very convenient to him, as, on account of
the not yet perfectly restored security of the country, he should send
home for the greater part of his servants to attend him here. And it
was not long, in fact, before the rooms of the castle were filled
with about a score of fresh servants. They were altogether strong,
wild-looking fellows; and the Graf said that he had selected these
expressly, because people yet, here and there, talked of the robber
band; and it was possible that they might some day attempt an attack on
his house or property. It was the more necessary for him to do this, as
he was himself a restless spirit, and could not live without now and
then making a little expedition. But this he could not do unless he
felt at the same time that he left his house in perfect security.

The people in the city considered this all very reasonable, and
conceived a still greater opinion of the affluence of the Graf,
who was able to maintain so great an establishment. The Forest-master's
daughter lived with her husband in the happiest manner; and when he
sometimes, accompanied by some of his servants, made a little excursion
into the country round, she invited always some of her friends from the
city, and never sent them back without the most beautiful gifts. The
Gräfin, indeed, wondered with herself, that her husband, who otherwise
gratified all her desires the moment they were uttered, never took her
with him on these little excursions; but she loved him too well to
chagrin him by pressing entreaties. The winter was now come, and yet
the excursions of the Graf did not cease. They were it is true, more
seldom, but they often stretched themselves into weeks; and the young
wife frequently felt herself excessively solitary when she, with her
maid, the only other female who was in the castle, sate in the large
room, and the wind without shook the naked branches of the trees
fearfully.

During this period the vicinity was not at all disturbed by the robber
band, notwithstanding the repeated accounts of housebreaking and
highway robberies in the countries of the Main and the Neckar. The Graf
seemed almost totally at ease on that subject, for he often took with
him all the servants, with the exception of two or three, in his
journeys. The young wife made many reflections on this strange conduct
of her husband, who always so suddenly resolved on these marches; yes,
sometimes even was awoke by a servant in the night, and at once went
forth numerously accompanied. It also struck her that many of the
presents which he brought her were clearly not new; and if she asked
him the cause of it, he told her that they had been sent for by him
from his native seat, and that he had been in a neighbouring city to
fetch them.

In that part of the castle in which the servants resided, was a room
which was always closed to the women, as there, the Graf said, were
preserved family documents of the highest importance, to which none but
himself must have access. Strange did it seem when Lisette, the
chambermaid, asserted to her lady, that she had often seen one of the
servants in that room with her lord; and the Gräfin was equally annoyed
at the familiarity between master and servants, when the Graf, till
late in the night, in one of the rooms appertaining to the servants,
was accustomed to talk and drink with them. "They are true souls," said
he, "who have been brought up with me, and I must be good to them, as I
have caused them to come into a country so strange to them."

All this, and the relations of Lisette, who, amongst other things,
asserted that she had seen the Graf, on his entering the house, take
off a black mask, disturbed the poor lady in the highest degree, and
she resolved at last to throw light on the mystery, let it cost what it
would, but till then to conceal her anxiety from her relations.

One evening, as she heard the Graf and his followers come riding in,
she hastened quickly into the neighbourhood of the suspected room, into
which her husband was accustomed always to go first, and concealed
herself in an unused fireplace. With beating heart she saw the Graf
enter with two servants. With light steps she approached the mysterious
door and listened. What she then heard was sufficient to inform her of
her dreadful fate. The Graf, and the notorious robber-captain, the
Black Peter, were one and the same person. Near to fainting, the
unhappy wife glided away to her own room. Soon after the Graf appeared,
and expressed his regret that, on account of family intelligence which
he had received, he must yet ride out again this night, but would be
back by break of day.

Scarcely had the Graf and his troop ridden away, when the poor wife
called her maid, communicated to her the dreadful truth, and both
determined on instant flight. They left the lights burning in the
chamber, and stole silently down into a room below. Happily the one
robber whom they had left behind, was yet within the mysterious
chamber. They escaped through the window, and made directly for the
nearest way to the Forest-master's house. Like two alarmed roes they
hastened on through the night, and often shrunk together when the moon
lighted up a distant tree, so that they fancied one of the robbers
stood behind it. Continually looking round to see that no one was
pursuing them, they at length came distantly into view of the
Forest-master's house. Their anguish became almost insupportable when
so near the goal; they thought to themselves they might yet be
overtaken. At last they reached the house, full of joy that they yet
saw a light in the room of the Chief Forest-master. He rose up in
amaze, when he heard a knocking at so late an hour; but how much
greater was his astonishment as his daughter flew to him, and sunk
breathless in his arms.

As soon as the old man was able from his exhausted daughter to learn
the cause of her thus wandering in the night, his wrath burnt fiercely
at the false son-in-law. He called up his huntsmen: the Bauers in the
little city were armed, and with all possible speed they set out for
the wood castle. But the robber had vanished with the mysteries of the
closed chamber. It was empty. All the other rooms were still just in
the state that the fugitives had left them, but gold there was none to
find.

The next day, the castle was surrounded by soldiers that were sent out
from Fulda, but the robbers had evacuated the country, and came not
again. After many vain attempts, it occurred at last that one of the
robbers was seized on the Bergstrasse. This led to further discoveries;
and finally, they had the good fortune to take prisoner the captain
himself. He was confined over the Manheimer Gate in Heidelberg, and was
to be delivered over to the Hessian authorities, when he escaped in a
most extraordinary manner out of his prison, but was speedily
recaptured. After an examination, in which he was hard pressed without
their being able to bring any confession from him, he was dismissed at
eight o'clock in the evening. At half past nine o'clock the same
evening, the gaoler announced to the magistrate who had presided on the
inquiry that the Black Peter had escaped from his confinement. The
watch had shot at him, but had missed him.

It was found that, without any negligence on the part of his keepers,
he had got out in a scarcely imaginable manner, in his shirt only. He
had taken the whole of the circular window of his prison with its frame
out. By means of a sharp holdfast, with which the frame of the window
had been secured, he had broken the two new and good locks of the chain
with which he was chained crossways; taken off the chains; torn up his
bedclothes, and twisted them into a rope-ladder, from ten to twelve
feet long, and had slipped through the wonderfully narrow opening of
the strong window-shutters, which, by proof made there and then, would
admit the passage of no other head. When he had reached the bottom of
his rope he had still nine or ten feet to drop to the earth; and the
shot, which was instantly fired at him, passed close to him.

Immediately on his escape be sprung into the neighbouring Neckar, and
concealed himself under the floor of a swimming-school, which was
erected on a boat, where he continued many hours up to the mouth in
water. He saw the pursuers on both banks of the Neckar, and in the
swimming-school itself. It was not till after midnight that he
attempted to wade through the Neckar, which, luckily for him, was then
very low; but he had not reached the other bank of the river when he
became aware of the watchers placed there also. He continued yet for a
long time sitting on a rock in the middle of the flood. Finally, he
made another attempt, reached the bank, sprang up it, and by a rapid
and breathless flight succeeded in reaching, in spite of all the
straining efforts of his pursuers, the hills and the woods.

In order to make his appearance in the wood the less striking to people
that he might happen to meet, he slipped his legs through the sleeves
of the shirt, and held the lower part of the shirt about his neck with
his hands. He thus ran on to a great distance. He met two Bauers in the
woods, to whom he feigned himself crazed and dumb, and begged of them
by signs, and was so lucky as not only not to be seized, but to obtain
an alms from them, with the pity of the givers. With this alms he
purchased some bread at a solitary mill in the mountain. The people
inquired the cause of his singular dress, or rather want of it; and he
invented a lie which answered his purpose. He fled still farther; till,
at evening, he was arrested by some Bauers of less easy faith, and who
had already became apprised of his flight, and the reward offered for
his recapture. He was brought back to his prison, and soon afterwards
delivered over to the Hessians, and confined in a high tower. But even
from this he effected his escape in the most ingenious manner possible.

One morning, the sentinel who was on duty at the foot of the tower
looking up, observed a hole worked in the wall, from which a tolerably
long rope hung. He immediately and with all speed gave intelligence of
the circumstance to the police officers. All hastened up into the
tower, and saw with amazement a hole made through the wall, of the
width of a man's body of ordinary size. Into the wall, a piece of iron,
part of the broken chain, was driven, and to this the rope was
fastened; the rope itself was made from the torn up cover and tick of
the prisoner's straw bed.

They could not sufficiently wonder how a man could pass through such a
hole; how he could trust himself at such a terrific height to such a
brittle rope; and how he could by any possibility, when he reached the
end of this rope, the length of which was insignificant in comparison
with the height of the tower, drop to the ground without certain
destruction.

While they were thus lost in these wonders, the prisoner, who all the
time was in the room concealed under the straw taken out of his bed and
heaped up behind the door, crept silently out, passed the open standing
door unobserved, descended the stairs, and completely effected his
escape.

He lived afterwards in various places and by various means; and on the
breaking out of the war, enlisted for a soldier. The Battle of
Waterloo, which cost so many honourable men their lives, ended also
his.

"And his former wife?" asked Hoffmann.

"She soon died of grief, or, as they say in England, of a broken
heart."


                           THE STUDENT STARK.

After a short pause, Freisleben addressed himself to the telling of his
story: and for that purpose drew forth a letter. After he had seen that
the company were supplied with glee-wine, he said--

We have had enough of evil and evil deeds, and it may, therefore, be
permitted me to relate something out of the life of a good man; namely,
out of the life of my friend Stark, whom you have become acquainted
with in his passing through here lately, face to face.

His father was the pastor of the village of Greenwiesel, and had, as is
only too much the case with the country clergy, a very scanty income.
The boy received his first instruction in the Folks'-school of the
place, and afterwards from his father, who, being an industrious man,
contrived to spare so much time from the duties of his office, as was
necessary to the due progress of his son. Private teachers he could not
afford, nor the expense of his maintenance in a neighbouring town, so
that he might attend the Gymnasium there. This was only an advantage to
Stark, as he could not easily have enjoyed an education which was at
once so well grounded, and so free from all pedantry, as that which his
father gave him. An old officer who had long spent his pension in the
village, and was a friend of the pastor's, spared no pains to instruct
him in the mathematics, which he loved above all things. But the
scholar listened with still more delight to his instructor when he
talked to him of the armies in which he had served, and of the battles
in which he had been engaged against the French. The intercourse with
the old officer, and the books which he put into his hands, contributed
not a little to inflame the boy's enthusiasm for liberty and
Fatherland. With avidity he devoured the German history of Kohlrousch,
and was accustomed then to rush forth into the wood, in order that he
might stretch himself under the German oak, and felt altogether as
German should. Nowhere was he so delighted to be, as abroad amid God's
free nature; and as the other boys of the village could not understand
his internal feelings and impulses, he was thus daily accustomed to
roam about alone, which occasioned him many a reproof from his father.
If it was fine weather, he used to take out his Tacitus with him, his
favourite author, or he recited with a loud voice a passage from
Ossian, of which the old officer had given him a German translation.
Nothing, however, gave him greater pleasure than to battle with the
winds; and the more it thundered and lightened, the more drenchingly
poured down the rain, the more exulting was his feeling of the strength
of his youth. When wet through, and looking wild, he returned home, his
mother would clasp her hands in wonder at his foolishness, as she
termed it. Yet she loved him extremely, as he on his part, above all
things, loved his parents and his sister, and did every thing to please
them that he could discern would be acceptable to them.

The first bitter tears that he shed, and bitter ones indeed they were,
was when his old friend and instructor, the old officer, died. But a
still greater misfortune soon befell him and his family. At the time
that young Stark should have entered one of the higher classes of the
Gymnasium of a neighbouring town, the old pastor was seized with an
apoplectic stroke, as he returned from preaching. His speedy death
spared him the painful reflection, that he left a widow and two
uneducated children helpless in the world. The family removed to the
next town, and there hired a poor dwelling in a small side street. The
young Stark, who attended the Gymnasium, felt, indeed, that he must
consider himself as the head of the family, and must provide for it. He
discharged his duty in the most exemplary manner. Besides that, he
received his school instruction free, he also enjoyed a stipend which
was awarded him in consequence of his having passed a brilliant
examination. It was very small indeed, but Stark knew how to
circumscribe his wants. He laboured zealously, in order to advance as
rapidly as possible, while at the same time he devoted every leisure
hour to instruct a considerable number of boys in the city, in their
elementary learning. With the united proceeds of this stipend and
these labours he maintained his family; and thus, when he had toiled
through the day as learner and teacher, the evening found him by his
study-lamp, where he sate fixed till late in the night. But he was
cheerful and contented. His strongly-grounded constitution enabled him
to support these exertions, and the glad consciousness of being able to
stand independent, and to provide for the necessities of his mother,
and of one dearly beloved sister, made sweet to him that monotonous
life.

Another removal of the little family was necessary when the young man
went to the High School. For the rest, his family continued to live
after that removal as they had done before, and Stark pursued his
studies with double diligence, in order yet better to maintain them.
His teachers in the university took an interest in the brave youth, and
amongst the students he found congenial friends, who, more favoured by
fortune, took a pleasure in procuring him many enjoyments of life,
without touching too closely on the delicacy of his feelings. They
visited him gladly in his modest room, where, besides the most
necessary articles of furniture, there was nothing to be found but
books, and some maps which he made use of in his studies, and which
hung on the whitewashed walls. Yet was no one happier than he when he
shared the frugal meal in the evening with his family, or with a friend
chatted over a glass of beer and a pipe. He went very simply, but yet
very neatly dressed. His tall, strong figure; that earnest, somewhat
pale countenance, to which the slightly aquiline nose, the friendly,
thoughtful eye, and a background of black whiskers, gave interest and
effect, produced on the beholder a highly favourable impression. Every
one with pleasure heard him speak, for his voice was strong and
well-toned, his speech fluent, and when he became zealous, carried you
irresistibly along with it. But when he sung, he affected every one.
His bass voice was, however, too powerful for a small room. It made
every window vibrate, and was, indeed, a voice made to sing the songs
of German freedom under the German oak.

Cruelly did fate startle him out of this monotonous yet quiet and happy
life. A nervous fever which then raged, snatched away his mother; and
his only sister, who had been her true nurse on her sick bed, soon
followed her. Stark was strongly bowed down by these severe losses. So
much the more did he attach himself to a maiden, whom he had now known
for some years, and to whom he had now been for half a year affianced.

The father of Emily, his promised bride, lived near the city. Emily had
a very attractive person, was always merry and good-humoured, and
possessed many good qualities; but was in the highest degree giddy and
fickle. My friend would never admit the last characteristic. He was
blind enough only to see in the maiden, noble and beautiful qualities,
which he worshipped. But he came to be bitterly convinced to the
contrary. A wealthy merchant's son, who just then was commencing
business for himself, announced himself as a lover of Emily to her
father. The father, although pleased with the proposal, yet gave his
daughter free choice, and she was heartless enough to prefer the
characterless, pretty, and glib-tongued merchant, to the poor Stark,
who, since his recent trials, truly had become more grave, and might
possibly have wearied her with many melancholy retrospections of his
lost mother and sister. Emily shrunk from writing herself to my friend,
but informed him, apparently in an unfeeling manner, through a third
person, that the connexion must be broken off; and assigned as reasons,
besides some other unimportant things, that her father was favourable
to the pretensions of the other lover, and had forbid her to hope for
his consent to a union with Stark.

Her father, who through the whole affair conducted himself as an
honourable man, answered a letter which my friend addressed to him.
This answer kept strictly to the truth; but at the same time expressed
a wish that it might be the last; moreover, requesting the return of
the letters of Emily. I will here communicate to you the letter which
my friend wrote to the false one. He permitted me, as I was long the
confidant of his attachment, and frequently the bearer of his letters,
to take a copy of this, and also to show it to any good and tried
friend. You may in it see the real nature of his character.

"Emily!--Thy father has requested me to renounce our verlobment; to
break off the correspondence. I had already written to give him this
assurance, but he had not the goodness to receive the letter.
Consequently I have not given it him, and his will is for me no
unconditional law.

"But thou appearest to be of the same mind, and thy wishes shall be
sacred to me till my last breath. Fear not that I will embarrass thee
with further importunities: only I cannot deny myself the melancholy
pleasure, once more, in this last letter, to speak to thee from my
heart. I will justify myself to thee, justify thou also thyself to
thyself. My heart shall and must be silent: I have cause to fear that
its language will no longer be understood; and I will not desecrate its
sensibilities. It has for some time been my employment to read over
again all thy letters with a bitter feeling. It is as if the lovely
deception yet still played round my heart; as if it could not awake out
of the sweet dream. I know many kinds of doubts, but none gives such a
scorpion sting as the doubt with which thou hast inspired me. I have
been happy,--happy in my vain belief! and I thank thee for it. Thou
mayst be proud;--no other woman has made me so happy as thou. Thou
mayst be very proud;--none can henceforward make me happy. Thou
bringest me back to my old philosophy respecting the fair sex, and
indeed at the right time.

"Emily, thou hast not dealt nobly, not honestly, with me, not wisely
with thyself. Why hast thou not told me the truth? Thinkest thou that I
shun the truth, even when it strikes me to the earth? I observed thy
change immediately with the holiday. I ran to and fro, full of anguish,
like one possessed. No greeting came from thee--no affectionate
inquiry--no question after a letter, which I had, in fact, written
seven times and tore again to pieces. My spirit was on the rack. Then
informed me, Neuburg, that the connexion must cease; that thou wished
it--thou! who only a fortnight before, sent me the most sacred
protestations! Thy father had taken away all hope from thee; had
menaced thee with his curse!

"Of all this nothing was true, as I learned from thy father's letter.
What course, thinkest thou, then was left me to pursue in accordance
with my character, but to write to thy father directly, as from thy
messenger I must understand that he knew all. Hadst thou but said the
truth to me, I should, after a short struggle, have returned every
thing to thee.

"Thou complainest of my pride, and takest great pains to humble me.
Perhaps thou mayst succeed; perhaps not. Thy father will receive no
further letter from me; thy mother, none; thou thyself perhaps, none.
That cannot humiliate me. I find my conduct tolerably consistent,--as
consistent as a man in my state of mind can be.

"What shall I now do? It was thy desire,--thine, and thine only to
break off. Thou wouldst have spared me, and thyself, and thy parents,
many painful feelings, if thou hadst acted with somewhat more
consideration. It seems as if thou hadst made it thy pleasure to wind
up my sensibilities to such a height, in order then to make me feel my
nothingness. Thou hast succeeded. The maiden who, but shortly before,
hung on my neck, and prayed assurances of my truth, has now not once
the courage to say that she loves me. I am too serious for gallantry;
and thou hast wofully erred, if thou hast classed me amongst such men.
It seems we have neither of us known each other, and need therefore
make no complaints of each other. That I have disturbed thy peace,
forgive me. That thou hast created in me so many beautiful hopes, only
again to destroy them; that through thee my joys are dashed to the
ground, that will I forgive thee; lament my simplicity, and again class
thee amongst the ordinary crowd of maidens.

"Could I but do that, Emily, I should yet be happy enough. My
seriousness has not pleased thee; and, in order to cure it, thou hast
poured bitterness into it. I complain not of thy parents; they act
according to their notions of duty; but how thou actest according to
thy conception of duty, I cannot perceive. Thou hast neither acted
towards thy father nor towards me as thou shouldst. The reasons which
thy father gives are valid enough, as thou givest weight to them; but
one thing more than all has struck me--it is called the fickleness of
women.

"Thy father does thee justice. Emily, thou shouldst have been honest
with me. I am not the man that will abuse the tender heart of a maiden.
I challenge thee to speak the truth. Have I not been open-hearted with
thee? Have I stolen thy affections? My whole soul hangs yet on thee,
and never will it be able to loose itself from thee. If thou wert
unworthy of me, would I weep and lament over thee? Tell me then
candidly thy desires, and trust me that I have generosity enough to
satisfy them all, even if it cost me my life. Thou canst charge nothing
upon my honour. Thou would long ago have had thy letters, if thy father
had not demanded them. He shall not receive them, but he shall read
them if he desires it, for his own satisfaction and thy justification.
Hast thou written any thing that thou art ashamed to acknowledge? Hast
thou cause for shame? Then are we both to be pitied; thy father and I,
and thou most of all. Then shall they, to extinguish all mistrust, be
destroyed in thy presence. If I am reluctant to come into thy father's
presence, yet I will not be ashamed before him. I am wont to compel
respect, if indeed I can acquire no attachment. I can well imagine how
many disadvantageous things people will tell thee at my expense. If
thou canst believe them without examination, then, indeed, have I
expended on thee every sentiment of my heart in vain. I pity thee in
all my misery far more than myself, since I shall probably so long as I
live continue a living reproof to thee. My conduct will be thy
punishment. I assure thee, love, that I shall never lose thee out of my
soul. I have with no other maiden stood in a nearer relationship. Thou
art the only one that has firmly fixed herself in my heart. Go whither
thou wilt, I shall bear thee with me to the grave. Thirty years hence
thou wilt most probably hear from me exactly the same tone, if thou art
by any circumstance reminded of me.

"Emily, thou shouldst have dealt more honestly with me. By God! I would
have sacrificed every thing for thee. Wilt thou be happy when at thy
wedding I sing a song of sorrow, that my friends may weep with me?

"Emily, I pray thee, for God's sake, by the happiness that thou yet
hopest, be worthy of thyself: I cannot believe any thing bad of thy
heart. Be the friend of thy father, if thou canst no longer be my
beloved. If my kiss has not ennobled thee, then am I an outcast, or
thou a creature without mind. Do nothing--nothing secret. What I did
was done on thy account; otherwise I walk ever in the light. For my
sake, also, show this letter to thy parents; I will not, when occasion
requires it, conceal from them that I have written this letter.

"Allow me once more to deceive myself with the sweet delusion of the
harmony of our souls. Thou hast destroyed a beautiful work, love, which
thou shouldst not have done, or shouldst not have helped to build it
up. Thou askest what I think, and not what I feel? I am infinitely
sorrowful; and of what kind my affections are thou mayst read hereafter
in my countenance. I may, perhaps, never again be so happy as to speak
another syllable with thee, but my heart will accompany thee, since I
am unchangeable!

                                                  "S. ----."


                  It is an old, old story,
                    Yet bides for ever new;
                  And he to whom it chances,
                    It breaks his heart in two.
                                                    _Heyne_.


It came not truly so far with my friend; but happiness of his life was
for a long period destroyed: the manly and high-toned character of his
mind, however, saved him from sinking permanently under the weight
which would have prostrated many a one of equally sensitive and
strongly-devoted temperament. But, as an English poet has said, he
resolved not to sacrifice


                 His name of manhood to a myrtle shade.


The fervour of his passion for political liberty, his admiration of
heroic actions, and his pride in his native country, were very near, in
the excited state of his mind, leading him to involve himself in the
grand but ill-digested plans of the Burschenschaft for the
consolidation of Germany into one magnificent empire; and probably the
blowing up of those plans by the government measures which followed on
the wild deeds of Sand and others, just at that crisis, saved him from
the fate which most probably would have awaited one so ardent and
qualified to take a prominent part--flight, or exile, from his native
country. Therefore, turning his eyes away from this hopeless track, he
studied with renewed severity, passed a splendid examination, and soon
after wrote a work on the German political constitution, which at once
attracted attention, and excited the admiration of all the lawyers in
Germany. It was soon translated into most of the languages of Europe,
and brought him a call from the principal university of one of the
first states of Germany, where he now occupies the chair of
jurisprudence with the most splendid reputation. He is no less
distinguished by the clearness and grasp of his reasoning powers, than
by the eloquence of his style, by which he contrives to diffuse a charm
and a life into the driest topics; and he is equally so for the
liberality of his principles, and the ardent devotion of his mind to
the liberties of mankind. He is beloved by the students who attend his
lectures, for the affability of his manners, and by his cordial
readiness on all occasions to give them his advice in any of their
troubles or perplexities. Having himself fought his way through a
narrow and a rugged path, he knows how to sympathize with others in the
same circumstances. His triumphs over his own impediments have not
inspired him with arrogance; nor the sorrows and disappointments of his
dearest hopes seared his sensibilities, but on the contrary, softened
and mellowed his heart. In public, he wears in his pale and grave
countenance traces, not only of his native tone of mind, but of the
shattering baptism of spirit that he has passed through; but in the
social circle, though often on his first entrance silent and reserved,
the warmth of his imagination and heart are sure to triumph over the
sadness of habitual reflection; and he charms every one with the poetry
and the animated references to the great deeds and great men of his
Fatherland, that show you that he is still at heart the same as when he
listened in breathless attention to the stories of the old officer, or
sung out Ossian on the forest hills.

Of Emily, we have little to say. Hidden, herself, in the retirement of
private life, she would have seen with an inextinguishable regret the
splendid career and wide fame of the man whom she had abandoned, had
she possessed a mind worthy of becoming the companion of such a man and
of such a destiny; but the great error of Stark's life was that of
investing a lovely but not high-minded woman, with the poetry and the
magnanimity of his own spirit. But he himself is a striking example of
the virtues, the talents, and the indefatigable labours by which many a
German Professor fights his way out of narrow circumstances, and
through the shades of native obscurity, into the broad light of fame
and public usefulness. Such instances are not rare, and they----but,
hear I right? it even now strikes twelve!

In confirmation of this was heard on all sides the reports of
fire-arms.

"Prost Neu-Jahr! gentlemen," cried Freisleben. "Prost Neu-Jahr!"
resounded they in reply. Freisleben declared that his story was at an
end; they drank off their glasses _anstossing_ for the first time in
the new year, and hurried into the street.

                               *   *   *

       CONCLUSION OF NEW YEAR'S EVE--THE TORCH TRAIN--THE EXPLOIT
                         OF THE RED FISHERMAN.

Following the distant sound of the fire-arms, they soon came to the
troop of students, which was marching round to bring to the Prorector,
and to some of the most popular professors, a "Vivat!" Music went
before, accompanied with torches; and a noisy swarm of students
followed it,--some in cloaks and great coats; some in dressing-gowns,
and with their long pipes in their mouths. You could easily see that
they had all of them suddenly started away out of their kneips, where
they had celebrated the termination of the old year. They now arrived
at the dwelling of a professor. The musicians placed themselves in the
centre of the street, surrounded by the torches; the students closed in
around them in a dense circle, and the music played a tune. A student
then stepped forward, and gave a loud "hoch!" to the Professor. All
joined in it three times, while the music blew a flourish, and the
pistols thundered off all round. As the third "hoch!" ceased, a window
opened above, a dark figure showed itself, and immediately below
"Silentium" was commanded. All were still, and the Professor spoke as
follows:--

"Gentlemen! Ever since I have resided in Heidelberg as teacher, have
you annually paid me this testimony of your respect and esteem; but
were I to live to be as old as Methuselah, and was this scene every
year renewed, it would give me a fresh satisfaction.

"Gentlemen! Let the world judge of our worth as men; let the republic
of the learned, which you are growing up to become a part of, decide on
our services as learned men, on our ability as teachers,--the means of
alone coming to a just conclusion oh those points will still lie
constantly in the hands of the student youth. May they always use them
with wise consideration, and free from all party spirit. So long
as we are able to labour with the vigour of men for the good of the
High-School, will our honest endeavours to fill our posts worthily as
teachers, not be in vain; and we rejoice in this glad consciousness
that we find in the acknowledgments of the student youth, only an echo
of that which our inner self declares. But when the zenith of our
career is past, so comes by degrees the weakness, and with it the
doubtfulness of age; and then does it delight us to find in the
acknowledgments of others, the conviction that, although our hair has
become whitened with the snow of age, yet our labour still preserves
its freshness and its green. And the Ruperto-Carola is also an ancient
and venerable stem, which ages in their flight have already visited
with their storms; but, if these storms have often and fiercely shook
it, they have never been able to uproot it. So long as teachers dwell
under the shadow of this tree, who, anxiously seeking its prosperity,
cherish and nourish the old trunk; so long as scholars make to it their
pilgrimage, who seek knowledge earnestly, so long shall Ruperto-Carola
flourish and bloom."

[Here the Professor went over the past year in review, and stated what
it had brought both of good and evil to the university, and then
continued.]

"May Ruperto-Carola ever possess scholars, of whose approval an honest
man will be proud! May yet many an age on the festive day resound the
cry of--'Vivat Ruperto-Carola!'"

The sons of the Muses here joined in with their thundering "vivats!"
The music made a flourish--the pistols resounded.

"Once more," cried the Professor, in conclusion, "my hearty thanks for
this proof of your love. May your Fatherland receive you in a while
with pride from our arms, where it yet only reluctantly leaves you for
your good. May you live long and happy!"

The professor withdrew from the window; the music played yet another
tune, and the troop then marched onwards. The four friends having
separated themselves from the throng, in order to return home, heard
yet for a long time, the distant uproar of the merry students, and the
sounding of the fire-arms.

We must here further observe, that not only such night-music is
brought; but also on some occasions, in order to do the more honour to
the professors, the so-called solemn night-music, attended by a greater
procession of the students, who carry torches, and have their appointed
marshals and officers, to maintain order in the procession. The
description of a torch-train will yet follow. Before this arrives at
the house of the Professor, two or three deputies proceed thither in a
carriage. These, in full gala costume, wait upon him for whom the
compliment is intended, and make him a short address. The Professor
returns them his thanks, and as he has always become aware of the
intention of the students, he has his bottle of champagne ready, which
he sets before the deputies, and _anstosses_ with them. They retire as
the torch-train approaches the house, and when the customary hochs!
have been given: first, by the students to the honour of the Professor;
and then by the Professor in his speech to the prosperity of the
university, the officers who have stepped forward for the purpose
clash their swords wildly together. Before retiring they generally
sing--"Stosst an! Heidelberg live thou!" and the torch-train marches
away.

In some places, as in Munich, it is the custom that the Prorector when
the New-Year's-night "Hoch!" is brought him, invites the students in,
and treats them with punch. It may readily be imagined how much of this
liquor is consumed on such an occasion, and into what a predicament a
Professor once fell in Munich, who had prepared his punch, but waited
for the students in vain, who out of dislike omitted to pay him this
visit of honour.

But it was destined that the Englishman and his three friends, to whom
we must now return from this digression, should not on this night yet
retire to rest. They had just arrived in the Karl-platz, as a man
galloped past, crying out with all his might,--"The ice goes! The ice
goes!"

This messenger was from Neckargemünd, sent to announce to the
inhabitants of Heidelberg this event, which the people living on the
banks of the river, and especially the boat-people, always look forward
to with great anxiety, and take their measures of precaution
accordingly. But especially in that winter were people full of
apprehension, as the ice-covering had acquired an extraordinary
thickness; and indeed, in some places, could no longer be called a
covering, since the flood in shallow places was completely frozen to
the bottom. After a fierce and early-occurring season of severity, the
actual warmth of spring suddenly broke out, and the soft south wind
melted the snow so rapidly on the hills that the waters ran in streams
down their sides. But all was in readiness; and as soon as the four
students reached the bridge, they saw, wherever the houses on the banks
of the Neckar did not completely occupy its strand to the edge, groups
of men, who had provided themselves with cressets with rolls of pitched
torches, called pitch garlands, and awaited the spectacle with eager
looks. The bridge itself was covered with men, and scarcely a place at
the balustrade was to be fought out. From this place an interesting
scene presented itself. So far as you could see the banks of the
Neckar, the torches flamed, and threw their flickering lights on the
surface of ice, on the crowding spectators, and on the neighbouring
landscape.

In the city itself, most of the houses were lit up for the festival,
while above them, in the country, the mountains and the old castle
shrouded themselves in the deepest gloom. Most of those who had
assembled on the bridge, were men in their ordinary dress, who had, on
the announcement of the ice-break, hastened hither from the punch-bowl.
But others had been roused from their beds, and exhibited themselves in
costumes singular enough, over which they had hastily thrown their
cloaks; out of which their nightcaps peeped above.

The explosion, as of distant thunder, was now heard, and the floods of
water that rushed up through the disrupted ice were seen pouring over
the surface. The ice in the neighbourhood of the bridge cracked and
groaned aloud; deep fissures opened, and ran with lightning speed far
and wide. But as the mass of waters still rushed nearer and nearer, and
the ice continued to resist its pressure, the floods rose, and forcing
into the streets, made the people assembled on the banks flee back
precipitately. On the other side of the bridge, all hands in the mean
time were busy removing the piles of fire-timber which were ranged
there, and in conveying them to a safe distance. The huge fragments of
the already up-torn ice were sent with fury over the ice-surface that
yet resisted; in some places, piling itself up into actual bulwarks,
and in others was heaved into the streets. Thus it happened, that a
little boy who, forgotten of the rest in their flight, had escaped to
the top of a pile of wood, above the bridge, was, by one of the masses
of ice which was forced forward by the water and driven directly under
the pile, carried aloft, together with the pile. Ere any one could
spring to his assistance, the moment was come when the opposing ice
could no longer maintain its resistance to the accumulating flood. It
burst with loud explosions, and raising itself furiously with the other
fragments rushed forward towards the bridge. Through the long contest,
the water had acquired the most terrible agitation, and when the
victory came at once, it formed itself into a headlong stream, which
carried the mass of ice on which the boy was, rapidly towards the
middle of the flood. The boy, surrounded by the raging element,
shrieked in the most fearful manner for help. His cries of misery were
scarcely to be heard, but they were not necessary to fill every
spectator with terror and commiseration. But who shall help him! Many
an able swimmer was there, but none would undertake so desperate an
enterprise. Some cried out to throw a rope from the bridge, that the
boy might lay hold of, but this was impracticable, for in the moment in
which the ice-masses struck the piers of the bridge, they were
scattered into fragments, and the stone bridge itself trembled with the
shock of their dashing against it. Already the ice-mass, on which the
boy sate in despair, approached the piers. Every spectator watched the
horrible catastrophe with breathless expectation; when the masses of
ice which now passed in countless numbers, blocked up first one and
then another arch of the bridge. There was a momentary pause in the
progress of the ice. At the crisis of this terrific spectacle, a band
of lively music approached the bridge. It was the wild troop of
students, who, having completed their round, and finished all their
Vivats! and Lebe Hochs! were marching past with their torches, and
amongst them was seen the Red Fisherman, who holding in one hand a
torch, and in the other a pipe, was striding on with open breast, and
in his shirt-sleeves.

"Ackermann! Ackermann!" shouted the multitude, "he must help! He alone
can do it!"

The approaching train rushed upon the bridge; the torch-bearers flew to
the balustrades to cast a light upon the scene--the music ceased in an
instant The Red Fisherman, on whom all eyes were turned, cast but one
glance towards the child; threw his torch on the ice below, and ran
down from the bridge to the banks of the Neckar. It was high time, for
the ice-masses again began to put themselves in motion. Boldly the
fisherman sprung from one block of ice to another; already was he near
the boy, when the ice broke beneath him; yet he fought desperately
against the rushing water. He reached the boy, and endeavoured to raise
himself upon the ice-mass;--at the same moment it went to pieces, and
both the fisherman and the boy disappeared for some seconds. The people
gave them up as lost for ever, when a voice was heard from the other
side of the bridge, crying "A rope! a rope!" It was the fisherman
himself, who stood on the basement at the foot of the pier with the boy
in his arms! He stood up to the middle in water, but he held fast by a
projection of the pier. A rope with a large piece of wood tied to it
was speedily let down by some of the fishermen, and Ackermann with the
boy was hauled up with the help of the students. As soon as his head
appeared on a level with the parapet, he handed over the boy to the
people, and then himself leaped over the iron balustrade. With a loud
"Vivat!" he was here received; and the musicians blew the finest
flourish that they had executed on this remarkable New-Year's night.
The troop of students accompanied the Red Fisherman with loud
acclamations, who quickly put himself in dry clothes; not regarding
some slight wounds which he had received from the ice-masses. The
students took him into their midst, and "Free-night! free-night!"
resounded on all sides.

This cry of triumph means that they will revel the whole night through;
and this takes place either at the room of some student, or at a kneip.
In the last case, the permission of the police is necessary. These
free-nights are only held on extraordinary occasions, or, as in many
cases, when without any particular cause the sons of the Muses find
themselves in a thoroughly joyous humour.

These were especially frequent formerly amongst the so-called Lumpia.
This means a union of students, who bind themselves for a certain time
to give themselves up to the Lump; that is to doing nothing, and to the
wildest pleasures,--to drinking, playing at hazard, and so on. To the
honour of the students these wild engagements are rare, and are in the
strictest manner prohibited by the laws.

The Red Fisherman warmed his stiffened limbs at the kneip with punch,
and a collection was made on the spot, whose proceeds were handed to
him as his reward. The four friends in the mean time had taken the
child, and brought it into a neighbouring inn, where it was undressed
and put to bed, until the mother, who did not till some time afterwards
learn the whole of the circumstances, could be fetched.

After the many events of the night, the wearied party hastened home, to
dream over again what they had witnessed, variously metamorphosed by
fancy, and one image mixed up and exchanged with another.




                              CHAPTER XXI.

                          THE MARCHING FORTH.


We Burschen freshly forth to the number of seventeen hundred; thou at
our head, and butchers and tailors and shopkeepers behind us, and
innkeeper and barber, and all the trade guilds of the city, swearing
to storm the place, if a hair of the Burschens' heads is but
crumpled.--_Schiller's Robber_.


Before we permit the Student to depart from the happy Burschendom into
Philisterium, we will see in what manner he generally takes his
farewell of the university.

For this, there are three ways: either the quiet way, in which we shall
presently see Mr. Traveller depart; or the still quieter one in the
stillness of the night, in order to avoid the hands of his creditors;
or, finally, the compulsory one, which the Bursche must generally take
who has made too much noise in the world.

We have already made ourselves acquainted with different excesses on
which lie the penalties of banishment, and we will here speak of the
greatest of all these excesses, at least of that, in respect to its
application to members, the very greatest--the Marching Forth. As the
duel is resorted to, to enforce justice from one student towards
another; so it is the Marching Forth, in which the students not merely
leave the bounds of order, but the university-city itself, which is
regarded as the means of avenging the injured body upon the whole city,
for an encroachment upon its rights. That the reader may obtain a clear
notion of the Marching Forth, we will describe the one which took place
amongst the students of Heidelberg, in the year 1828.

The Museum in Heidelberg, a building dedicated to social entertainment
and pleasures, was built in 1827, and completed in the following year.
The rules for the management of the institution, which, after careful
consideration and proof, were adopted, did not in some particulars
please a part of the students; others, however, found nothing to object
to, and about seventy students immediately enrolled themselves as
members. Instead now of leaving every one to his liberty, a part of the
discontented came to the conclusion, that the museum must, so far as
the university was concerned, be put altogether under the bann. As it
was now found that they laboured zealously to this end, the teachers
took the proper measures to prevent such a circumstance. A member of
the senate, in whom the better portion of the students had always the
strongest moral reliance, endeavoured by every means to make such of
the students as stood high in the respect of their fellows, clearly to
comprehend, that such a bann had the severest enactment of academical
law against it; that it might render the Baden students unfortunate for
life, if they allowed themselves to become partisans; that it might
lead to the most angry contentions, if those who had already become
members of the Museum, would not suffer themselves to be compelled to
such an act of evacuation; and the Senate could not remain unconcerned
spectators, by any means, of such disorder, not just then especially,
as on the near approaching name-day of the Grand Duke, the Museum was
to be solemnly and ceremoniously opened.

But the intelligence quickly spread, that the Burschenschaft, which by
degrees and secretly had again sprung up, had pronounced the bann with
great formality and haste, and that they were labouring with all their
might to compel all other persons into the undertaking, and even to
draw the natives into the matter along with them. Active measures were
therefore unavoidable on the part of the Senate. It accordingly
decreed, on the 13th of August, that immediately with the break of the
following day, the members of the Burschenschaft should be brought to
trial on account of the promulgation of the bann, and that they should
be arrested in such a way, that there might be no concerted plan laid,
upon what they should state in their defence, and in such a way also
that no student should be absent from home.

On the 14th of August, the beadles received at a quarter to four in the
morning, the order to pronounce house-arrest to some, and to remove
others to the university prison, preparatory to their being called up
for hearing. The trial began immediately, and would have been completed
the same day, had the laws found obedience. But immediately on the
sitting of the court, there arose in every street, the cry of "Bursch,
come forth!" This is a call which every student must unconditionally
obey, on pain of proscription. It is therefore, as a compulsion in
opposition to the laws, and as the most convenient method of speedily
raising a tumult, punished with the sharper expulsion.

So ran the ringleaders through the city with a loud "Bursch, come
forth!" drew the students together from all quarters, and rushed with
them, with great uproar, into the front of the university, where the
Senate had speedily assembled, and stood in presence of the tumultuous
throng at an open window. Instead of applying to the Prorector, as they
should have done, had they ground of complaint, they even treated with
contempt two summonses from the Senate to send deputies to explain
their claims or demands, and immediately in the face of the Senate
proceeded, with loud outcries, to make a desperate onset on the door of
the adjoining academical buildings, with sticks and kicks, so that the
upper beadle, to prevent further mischief, was obliged to liberate the
incarcerated students. This being accomplished, they commenced their
march forth towards Schwetzengen.

The whole city was in uproar. The shops were closed out of fear of the
wild faction. Every where chaises rattled through the streets; the
boot-foxes ran here and there; the inhabitants looked full of trouble
out of their windows; when a student, with his sword in his hand,
galloped through the streets with the fearful cry--"Bursch, come
forth!" Most of the students went along with the train, only because
the Comment, or Students' Code of Laws, demanded it, without well
knowing for what purpose. The wild throng rushed into the houses of the
dilatory, in order to rouse them out of bed. Hastily, every one packed
up what was most necessary and threw it into the carriage, or buckled
it upon a horse; and when no longer carriage or horse was procurable,
the boot-foxes must become baggage-bearers.

In order to rouse all into a necessary degree of resentment, and to
keep it up, the ringleaders circulated false stories. They spread it
every where that the authorities had dragged the students out of their
beds in the night; that they had thrust them into a hole where none
could stand upright, and where there was not a single seat to rest
upon; while the fact was, that they who were said to have suffered so
much maltreatment in the night, were conducted to the academical
buildings in clear daylight. Yet, in the excitement of the moment,
these false reports found credit, and with the "Bursch, come forth!"
which raged like a running fire through the streets, they availed in a
very short time, to bring the whole student host together.

They who were on horseback placed themselves at the head of the
procession; rode hither and thither, in order to quicken the motions of
the dilatory, and to maintain the whole train in order. A long line of
carriages followed them, of every description that could be got
together in the haste of the occasion. Part were chaises, in which the
students rode; part were wagons, on which were hastily loaded their
packages. All the students had armed themselves in haste, as well as
they might, with swords, rapiers, and pistols. They who found no place
in the carriages, or on horseback, went on foot, and a great swarm of
boot-foxes followed who were loaded with all kinds of house-gear, as
pipes, dressing-gowns, coats, and so on. A vast crowd of people,
consisting of school-youths who had to thank the students to-day for a
holiday, and of all kinds of people who, in a university city, draw
support from the students, added themselves to the train, and increased
the uproar and alarm, with curses and insults, that the students should
be suffered to go away. The inhabitants of the city looked down in
wonder and curiosity from their windows roused from their sleep by the
noise, and gazed on the motley throng who, with shouts and singing of
Burschen-songs, swept by.

At length the rear of the train disappeared through the city gate, and
a strange silence reigned in the deserted town. The doors opened, and
the Philistines stepped out into the streets together, to talk over the
fatal story. In the mean time a professor might be seen, with serious
countenance and hasty steps, hurrying through the streets, and people
looked doubtfully after him, or one or another of the citizens detained
him to snatch a couple of words as to what was to be done in this
necessity of the Fatherland. Here and there also might be seen a
solitary student who had not been able to join the train in time, now
hastening towards one or other of the city gates; since every one is
compelled, on pain of entire proscription, to quit the city in case of
a Marching-Forth, even if he does not join the train.

When the train arrived in Schwetzengen, the discontented saw that the
territory of Baden was not safe for them, and that by passing the
frontier they would enjoy more freedom. Suddenly there followed them
from many quarters the report "The dragoons come, to fall upon us!" and
all ran with wild haste to Ketsch, a village on the Rhine, where they
caused themselves to be ferried over into Rheinish Bavaria. This false
report of this falling of the troopers upon them had thus arisen.
Immediately on the occurrence of the excess here related, the Senate
held it necessary for the protection of the city, hastily to request a
hundred dragoons to be sent for from Mannheim. These hundred dragoons
marched out of Mannheim, about nine miles below Ketsch, only at
half-past two o'clock in the afternoon, after the students had, in
fact, crossed the Rhine at Ketsch; and they never directed their march
at all against the students, but rode direct to Heidelberg. As it was
then there well ascertained that the Marchers-Forth had taken up their
quarters for the present in Frankenthal, where part of them were lodged
in the town, and part of them had encamped in the neighbourhood under
tents, and that many of them had become involved in the transaction
through erroneous information, a member of the Senate was requested by
the Curatorium to proceed to Frankenthal, and to endeavour to bring the
young men to reason. This took place on the sixteenth of August, but
without success. On the contrary, the emissary of the Senate was sent
back with a remonstrance, very numerously signed, which concluded with
a menacing clause, and demanded that the Senate should guarantee the
whole body of students against all penalties, on account of this
transaction, and should cause Heidelberg, without delay, to be
evacuated by the troops. It was also added, by word of mouth, that the
bann pronounced on the Museum, could not be retracted.

A similar endeavour, made through the university Amtmann, on the
eighteenth of August, received as little attention, although the
Museum, in many points, had yielded to their demands, and thereupon was
immediately relieved from the proscription. The resentment against the
Senate continued unabated; and therefore, on the evening of the
eighteenth, in all haste, the academy was declared to be under the
bann; this, however, was not done through the voting of individuals,
but effected by the dreaded ringleaders pronouncing the bann, demanding
then the others to accede to it, though many were opposed to it; and
thus the resolution was passed in a painful silence, since individuals
saw dangers on all sides of them if they refused. Yet in that night,
and in the course of the next day, numbers quitted Frankenthal, and
returned towards Heidelberg. Here, when they came to understand exactly
the real circumstances of the case, there was regret and general
discontent. A great number of the most noble young men loudly declared
the bann to be dishonourable, to be null and void, because brought
about by deception; to be contrary to all custom and precedent, and
thereupon came some of the most artful proceedings to be talked of: for
example, that in the remonstrance sent to the Senate, there were forged
names of students who were absent at the time, and that the menacing
clause had been surreptitiously introduced. In fact, the natives of
Baden had had no part in the declaration of the bann.

On the twentieth of August the classes again were opened, while the
trials were still proceeding. The ringleaders were punished with
expulsion; others were banished for a certain term; and a greater
number imprisoned for a longer or shorter period. The attention of the
court was turned by these events afresh on the still continuance of the
Burschenschaft, and it was pursued with yet greater severity of
proscription than before. But the Studentschaft had so far achieved its
original object, that its demands on the Museum were for the most part
conceded.

Such Marchings-Forth are of rare occurrence, yet this is not the only
one that has taken place in Heidelberg. Many years before this,
occurred a something similar one, on account of contentions with the
military, which then lay in Heidelberg.

A student, as he went past the watch-house, forgot to take the pipe
from his mouth. He came into contention thereupon with the soldier on
guard, who called an officer, by whom the student was very much
insulted. This gave occasion to a Marching-Forth, which, however,
proceeded no further than to Neuenheim, about a mile from the city,
whence the students at once returned, all their demands being complied
with; which, were, that a full amnesty should be guaranteed for all
that was past, and that the soldiers should be removed. Moreover, the
military were obliged to post themselves on the bridge, the officer at
their head, and so present arms while the students marched past again
into the city in triumph, and with music playing before them.

Where soldiers and students are brought together in one city,
collisions are inevitable; at least in the smaller cities, where both
cannot be sufficiently mixed and lost in the great mass of the people.
Many contentions have heretofore arisen out of such collocation; and
thus occurred also the Marching-Forth from Giessen in the year 1819.
The military having in the most unallowable manner acted towards the
students, and one of the students coming to a quarrel with an officer,
was extremely insulted by him. There appeared in consequence of this a
ministerial rescript, in which it was ordered that the military in
future should only be called out against the students by a requisition
from the Senate, and that all acts of illegality already alleged
against the military on the part of the students should be strictly
investigated, and every just satisfaction made to them. There
immediately appeared a judgment on the part of the military college, by
which the officer who had insulted the student was condemned to
fourteen days' close arrest, which was immediately to take place; and
was, moreover, required, in the presence of the rector of the
university and of the colonel of the officer, to beg pardon of the
student. The aforesaid ministerial rescription was now made known to
the students by four deputies of the Senate, who waited on them in the
place of their retreat; whereupon they immediately resolved to return
to Giessen, and to restore every thing to its old course and order.

To give yet another example of a Marching-Forth, we may take the
disturbance in Göttingen in the year 1818. Contentions arose between
the then students and the members of some of the trade guilds; amongst
others, with that of the butchers' guild. The house of a butcher who
had especially insulted the students was very much damaged, and the
windows of another house beaten in. A commission was despatched by the
government to Göttingen to inquire into and quell the disturbance. The
means, however, which were adopted in order to bring the incensed
student youth again within the bounds of order, were not the most
fitting; and the calling in of the military only made the matter worse.
The students refused to succumb to a strange power. They boldly
attacked the hussars; these drew their swords, and in the skirmish many
students were dangerously wounded. About eight hundred of the students
now marched out to Witzenhausen. They sent by the hands of four
deputies, a memorial to the Senate, who delivered it and returned. In
this document they complained, that one of their fellow-students had
been maltreated by a butcher, and that the butcher had not been visited
with the punishment due to his offence; that the sending of a royal
commission altered the condition of their rights; that the authority of
the same had been so far illegal that the reigning prince had not yet
confirmed it; and finally, that the people had been attacked by the
military in time of peace, whereby many had been wounded.

The ministry, thereupon, issued a rescript, which commanded the whole
body of students to return, and if they refused obedience, threatened
them with the loss of every claim to future employment by the state, as
well as of all stipends that they might enjoy.

After an absence of more than eight days, the greater part of the
students, who had scattered themselves through the country, returned,
exerting, however, on their side a right of retaliation, by declaring
the university to be for two and a half years under the bann to all
foreigners. The foreigners immediately took their departure, and only
about six hundred students were left in Göttingen,--about half of the
number who had studied in it before those disturbances took place.

In Witzenhausen the people had fleeced the students of nearly all their
cash. All necessaries of life, during their abode there, were raised to
a monstrous price, and the burgers of that place charged them
individually for a week's lodging as much as a louis-d'or. Therefore
now, to quit Göttingen, they were obliged to dispose of every thing
that they could possibly spare.

Many natives also, spite of the menaces of the ministers, quitted the
cities; and Göttingen, in fact, presented a melancholy aspect. The
departure of the foreigners was injurious to the city, in two respects;
many workmen depended on them for subsistence, and besides this, they
left many debts behind them. It was natural, in these circumstances,
that many workmen too should quit the place, since their means of
livelihood had failed, and thus the emptiness of Göttingen became still
more apparent.

The sentence of the ministry upon these disturbances condemned one
student to entire expulsion; many to the Consilium abeundi, or
confinement in the university prison; and the master butcher also was
punished with eight days' imprisonment, with bread and water. There was
a further commission appointed for the trial of the originators of the
bann, and these also were punished.

Thus peace and order were again restored; and in order to maintain
these, precautionary measures were adopted; namely, every one studying
in Göttingen, and every fresh comer, must sign a declaration, that he
would take no part in the carrying into effect the bann pronounced
against the university; and that he would never, either by word or
deed, allow it to be supposed that he acknowledged that bann as
actually existing. Spite of all these regulations, it was a very long
time before Göttingen was able to regain its former state of
prosperity.

These Marchings-Forth may serve to show how jealously the students
defend their privileges, not only against individuals, but even against
the state. The student avenges himself upon any one by whom he is
unjustly attacked. A ludicrous story connected with these practices
occurs to our recollection, which happened very shortly after the
tragic act of Sand.

An actor, who played heroic characters in the theatre at Darmstadt, was
at the supper-table in the inn there, and gave a loose very freely and
sourly to his remarks upon students and universities. A student from
Heidelberg, who was present, and had in his possession a letter to
deliver to this very actor, determined to punish him a little for his
observations, and therefore on this evening did not present him the
letter. In the morning he went to the dwelling of the actor, caused his
room to be shown to him, and finding him alone, inquired with a dark
countenance--"Are you the Herr Court-actor F----r?" "Yes."--"Are you
really the Herr Court-actor F----r?"--he reiterated sternly.
"Yes!"--"Now!" cried the student, with a loud voice, and thrusting his
hand into his bosom. The poor hero, who imagined he had got a dagger
there, darted at full speed away. The student laughing called him back.
"Stop!" said he, "stop! it is only a letter!"

In recent times, when people are not so pliant towards the students,
the Marchings-Forth have more and more disappeared. In the year 1838,
the students conceived that their rights were infringed by the
gendarmerie. They assembled at the Hirschgasse; one of them stated the
case to the rest, and invited them to subscribe a memorial on the
subject to the Senate, requesting the removal of those gendarmes. As
the doors were in the meantime all guarded by the Chore people, so all
complied with the invitation. When all had signed, they returned to the
city in one body, two and two abreast; sang "Free is the Bursch," and
presented their memorial to the Prorector. They derived, however,
little satisfaction from this proceeding; and as the document contained
expressions dishonourable to the Senate, some of the ringleaders were
punished.

But the cry "Bursch, come forth!" has not always been employed for the
purpose of effecting a Marching-Forth in opposition to the laws. It has
on many an occasion served to assemble speedily the Burschen for the
noblest objects. It was thus in Heidelberg, when at one time the
bitterness against the Jews had spread itself through Germany. Suddenly
a great throng of Handwerksburschen in this city also, and others of
that class who have nothing to lose and always a chance to win
something in every revolution, had got together, and scoured the
streets, crying "Hep! Hep!" They hastened to the houses of the Jews, to
plunder them and mishandle their inmates. The city soldiers were called
upon to disperse the rioters, but in a cowardly manner refused to do
their duty. People were in a great perplexity how to protect the
unfortunate Jews. Some students met the then Prorector, who was on his
way to the Senate, and engaged to him speedily to restore quiet if he
would only allow them to cry, "Bursch, come forth!" The Prorector took
the responsibility upon himself, and scarcely was the shout of "Bursch,
come forth!" raised, when from all sides came running the students,
armed with their swords. One of those who came first, placed himself at
the door of one of the richest Jews in the city, against whom the mass
of the mob were most desperate, and drawing his sword, called to the
pressing throngs, full of zeal for the good cause--"Only over my corpse
lies your way into this house!" The assailants fell back with terror;
other students speedily came to his aid, and chased away the rabble.
One of the professors took a sword from the hand of a student, and led
on the sons of the Muses. They surrounded the houses which the rioters
had already forced their way into, holding their drawn swords before
the windows so as to prevent all escape, while others, rushing into the
house, seized the plunderers, and gave them into the hands of the
police. Peace was in a very short time restored. The Jews made a public
acknowledgment of their thanks to the academicians, and the Senate
cited before them such of the students as had most distinguished
themselves, in order to thank them themselves, and through them to
thank all the others who had given such timely and successful aid.

In other circumstances of danger too, the students have often
distinguished themselves. This has been especially the case in fires,
where, placing themselves in long rows from the scene of burning to the
river, they have made the water-buckets pass from hand to hand with
astonishing celerity, and all the time have relieved their work with
singing.

Once also they executed, in Heidelberg, justice in the promptest
manner. It was when, at the instigation of Prussia, Baden lost again
the freedom of the press, which the Grand Duke Leopold had conferred on
it at his entrance on the government. Over this circumstance a great
bitterness was felt in Heidelberg. Just at this crisis the Prussian
students at that university celebrated the birthday of their king, as
they are accustomed to do every year. This took place in a Commers in
Neckarsteinach, and as they are often accustomed, they returned to the
city in the evening in an illuminated barge, down the Neckar, with
fireworks. A report had spread itself, that the people, who beheld the
spectacle from the Neckar bridge, would insult the Prussians, when they
passed under the bridge. The police were concerting preventive
measures, when the other students requested to be allowed to maintain
the peace. It was granted to them; and in the evening, they awaited
quietly in their kneips the intelligence of the approach of the festive
barge. They then spread themselves amongst the crowd upon the bridge.
As the boat now drew near, and the customary "Vivat, the king of
Prussia!" was heard resounding from it, the mob on the bridge began to
bawl out a "Pereat!" and one Handwerksbursch was bold enough to fling
down a stone. In a moment such a storm of cuffs and boxes on the ears
was rained down from all quarters on the disturbers, that they were
compelled to fly from the hands of those who were an overmatch for
them; thus the bridge was speedily evacuated by the whole tribe, and
the barge came to its anchorage without further molestation.

Another cause which often compels the students to quit the university,
and indeed in all stillness, is debt. That the young men at the
High-School may readily fall into debt, is easy to conceive. Most of
them were till this time at schools where they were quite dependent on
their parents, and have now, for the first time, considerable sums in
their hands; and beyond this, the way into debt is made so particularly
easy to the student. The landlords, the shopkeepers, and all others,
who derive an advantage from the students, freely give credit, or
_pump_, as the students term it. They do it the more willingly, since
it is a good opportunity to make the account a little larger (since the
English and students, as the student says, generally chop above the
ear, that is, suffer themselves to be overcharged); and moreover, the
students look on it as a certain prerogative, of which many are
compelled to avail themselves, who, especially in their first year,
need more than their remittances. A master tailor who was much in mode
amongst the students, once attempted to put an end to this silently
acknowledged privilege, but it cost him dear. This man sent round a
list amongst his colleagues, by which every one who signed his name
bound himself to give no more credit to any student. But this list had
not circulated far, when the students became aware of the fact. They
assembled themselves that evening at their kneip, armed with their
swards, proceeded thence to the house of the tailor, dashed all the
windows in, broke open the doors, and rushed into the workshops and
store-rooms of the tailor; where they cut to pieces, and bored through
all his pieces of cloth and ready-made clothes, so that they were
totally ruined. The actors, indeed, were punished, and required to pay
all the damages, but the tailor had for ever lost the business of the
students, and his fellow-tradesmen took warning from the transaction.

The academical laws have endeavoured to put a check on this facility of
debt-making, by determining that all demands for credited wines and
spirituous liquors, excepting the regular choppin of wine or beer set
before his guests by the landlord or master of an ordinary,--all
demands of the masters of coffee and billiard-rooms, as such,--all play
debts, demands for carriage, sledge, or horse-hire for more than one
journey, which may be made on students, shall not be recoverable in a
court of law; and it is also enacted to what extent credit for all
necessaries of life, for books, and such things, may be given, so as
yet to leave a legal right of recovery. In order to make themselves
secure against a student, whom they are afraid may attempt to quit
without discharging his debt, the creditor is accustomed to take the
usual and effectual way, that is, to go and lay an arrest on his
departure-testimonial, which will then not be handed to the student by
the university office, till he has paid his debts; by which means it
becomes very difficult to quit the place without a fair settlement with
his creditors. One way, however, remains for him. In the university
cities are people who lend money to the students at a high rate of
interest. These the student pumps, as he calls it,--and, as claims for
money lent to students are untenable before the court, these people
generally get the loss when a student runs off, as well as all those
other creditors who have not protested against the delivery of his
testimonial. This burning through, or running through the rags, as
starting without paying is called, was formerly much more frequent than
at present. If it now sometimes happens, yet the cases are very rare in
which they do not afterwards pay as soon as they are in circumstances
to do it. When these escapes were made, it was generally at midnight;
or in this manner,--the youth's companions accompanied him in a
Comitat, or one of their regular departure-processions, but another
student was set in the first carriage, in the place of honour, as
though it were he who was leaving. When they had, however, quitted the
city, the real departer took the place of honour, and the pretended one
then quietly returned to the city. On such occasions was song the song,
of course not till the immediate danger was past--


               Forth from here, the Manichæans watch us.


The Manichæans are the creditors, so called after the old much
reprobated sect of the Manichæans, who in the third century held the
doctrines of the Persian heretic Manes.


      Upon a wearied steed, a Jena student flew,
      In stumbling career, the fields and meadows through;
      And full of dread, with which the Philistines imbued him,
      Still wildly looked behind, lest creditors pursued him.
                                                  _The Renommist_.


Mr. Traveller had now, in Heidelberg, studied for half a year the
customs and general life of the students. Gladly would he yet longer
have sojourned amongst his new friends; but he could only remain on the
continent till autumn, and wished to make use of this time, in
acquainting himself with some others of the most celebrated of the
universities of Germany. After long delay, a day was finally fixed
during the Easter vacation. His way lay through Leipsic and Berlin, and
it was agreed to set out in a hired carriage as far as Weinheim, there,
till the arrival of the post-wagon, to celebrate the last farewell.
Towards five o'clock, on the appointed morning, Freisleben and Hoffmann
went to call their friend Von Kronen, and were astonished to find the
long-sleeper already up and prepared. "I'll tell you how it happened,"
said he; "I had given my boot-fox orders to rouse me out of bed at four
o'clock, be it as it would. This morning, while it was yet quite dark,
he rushed into my room with his lantern, and startled me out of the
sweetest dreams, with the cry of 'Fire! fire!' 'Where then, where?' I
demanded. 'Get up,' said he, 'in a moment, and come with me.' I sprung
out of bed, threw on my clothes, again demanding, 'Tell me though,
where is the fire?' He then quietly answered, 'Here, you see it, in my
lantern!'"

The friends laughed at the ingenuity of the boot-fox, and hastened to
Mr. Traveller. They found him already dressed, and busy with his
boot-fox, in packing the dress-suit in which he had yesterday paid his
farewell visits to the professors. The room looked desolate and
inhospitable; and on the walls on every side peeped forth the nails, on
which had been suspended pipes, pictures, and other house-gear. On the
floor, packing paper lay every where in heaps; here and there lay a
pair of old shoes, some old boxes, and the like; upon one chair a
trunk, and on another a hat-case. In one corner of the room lay a heap
of books which were to be sent direct to England. The writing-desk was
open, and there lay the purse, the watch, and all that belongs to the
pocket, whilst a stick, and the umbrella in its case leaned against it.

Astonished at these changes, Freisleben's spaniel ran about the room,
smelling at every thing in the most particular manner. The carriage now
rattled up; the stout driver made his appearance, and announced that
all was ready. Hastily the maid brought in the coffee, and hastily was
it drunk. The driver and the boot-fox carried down the luggage; Mr.
Traveller put on his travelling coat, the friends lit their pipes, and
all hastened to the carriage. The maid was below and wished a happy
journey; the boot-fox, to whom some remaining pipes and the little
coffee-machine was given, said--"I thank you many times; and, fare you
well;" and as the carriage set off, the old House-Philistine thrust his
head with his white nightcap out of the window above, and with sleepy
voice cried--"a happy journey!" But the maid remained standing at the
door, and looked after the carriage till it turned the next corner.

Mr. Traveller carried with him from Heidelberg only happy
recollections, and rarely can we say this of a place; therefore, as the
carriage swept round the turn of the road at Neuenheim, he bade a last
and regretful farewell to the little city which, stretched along the
bank of the Neckar.

Having arrived in Weinheim, the friends first took a walk up the lovely
Birkenau Thal. They had just returned thence, and seated themselves in
the inn to a breakfast _à la fourchette_, when a whole troop of youths
arrived on foot. They were clad in blue-and-white frockcoats and
blouses, with belt round the waist, wore for the most part straw hats;
carried each a stout knapsack on his back; in their hands held short
cudgels; and had a basket-flask suspended by a riband that passed over
the breast. They were Wurtzburg students, who had penetrated by
Wertheim into the Odenwald, and had traversed that ancient and forest
land in every direction. Von Kronen and Freisleben found amongst them
some old acquaintances. They gave them a hearty welcome; and the
new-comers, who were full of life and good humour, related many of
their travel adventures,--how they came to a village where it was the
Kirchweih, or wake; and how the young bauers came to hard cudgels with
them, because they had enticed from them the loveliest maidens on the
dancing ground; of the Wild Hunter, the Felsenmeere, or Sea of Rocks,
and of the solitary Jäger-house, where they had been obliged to pass
the night on straw, as there were no beds to be found for so many
guests. They felicitated themselves on all the pleasure that they
promised themselves in Heidelberg. The whole company was very merry;
they did not spare the excellent Hupberger, and totally forgot that on
the heels of this welcome must come a speedy parting. But suddenly the
landlord stepped in, and announced that the Eilwagen had arrived. The
whole company broke up hastily, and accompanied Mr. Traveller to it. It
was high time when they arrived at it, and the Englishman had scarcely
leisure to take a hurried leave of his friends. He promised to send
them notice of the other universities that he should visit, gave them
another hearty shake of the hand--the postilion had blown his bugle,
and the wagon rolled on its way. "Tell the English," cried Freisleben
to him, as he still looked out of the window, "that the German students
are not so bad as they have been described to them." "Honi soit qui mal
y pense," replied Mr. Traveller. While this passed, the other students
had raised the


                     SONG OF THE DEPARTING BURSCH.

            A Mossy Borsch now forth I wend,
            O God! Philister's house defend.[47]
            Yes, native home, I come to thee;
            Myself must now Philistine be.

            Farewell, ye crooked streets and straight,
            Through you no more I walk elate:
            With songs no more make you astir,
            With noisy joy and clink to spur.

            Ye Kneips, why would ye me delay,
            My sojourn here has passed away.
            Oh! beckon not with your long arm,
            Make not my thirsty heart thus warm.

            God bless the College! How she there
            Stands in her stately grandeur fair!
            Ye twilight halls, both great and small,
            Ye win me back no more at all.

            And thou too, from thy gabled height,
            O Carcer! see'st in vain my flight,
            For wretched lodging, night and day,
            A Pereat, greet thee thus for aye!

            But bloom thou--and, as thus I go,
            Old Battle-house, still "Live thou, hoch!"
            Yet many a victor-garland be,
            Thou house of honour, won in thee!

            Then come I--ah! to Liebchen's door,--
            Look out, dear girl, look out once more!
            Look out with thy sweet eyes so clear,
            And with thy dark and clustering hair.

            And shouldst thou e'en have me forgot,
            A like reward I wish thee not.
            Go, thou mayst seek a lover new,
            But be he gay, like me, and true.

            But farther, farther, now awaits
            My course, stand wide ye ancient gates!
            Light is my heart, and glad my track;
            My blessing, city, waft I back!

            Ye Brothers! now, around me press,
            Let my heart feel not its distress.
            On gallant steeds with gladsome song,
            Go ye with me the way along.

            In the next Dorf will we alight,
            In our last wine our friendship plight.
            Now, here ye Brothers,--wo's the case!--
            Our last glass take!--our last embrace!

                                                 _Gustav. Schwab_.




                             CHAPTER XXII.

                      THE STUDENT'S FUNERAL, 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.


"What becomes then of the student at the last?" the reader will
ask--"of him whom we have to this point followed in silent observation
through all his ways, and along his whole course?"

If, as has often been the case, we were to consider the Student-life as
a disease, we should say with the Pathologist:--"Every disease can, by
possibility, have, only one of three terminations: the first, in
health; the second, in some other disease; and the last, in death." But
we are far from looking upon it in this light. Yet we can, regarding
the Student-life in its great outlines as a state of health, assign it
the same issues, with the exception that we hold the Philisterium, to
use the student's own language, to be the natural sequence of the
natural university life.

It is truly a sorrowful reflection, that of the numbers who seek the
university at the same time, it is only the smaller portion of them who
reach that goal after which they strive, or should strive. Not that we
mean to say that death snatches away so many from the midst of them.
No; the mortality in general, and especially in Heidelberg, amongst the
student youth, is very small indeed. But what we now have in our eye
will be more clearly shown, if we explain ourselves on the nature of
the object to be attained by the student. Has he, indeed, attained that
object, when he has piled up in his head laboriously and without order,
a store of things worthy to be known in his peculiar profession? No,
that is not it; although people who are destitute of an enlightened
grasp of mind, are accustomed to see great perfection in the education
of a young man who, returning from a learned institution, is found to
have gathered up all facts like a schoolboy with amazing diligence, so
that when any one says A to him, he can immediately say B and C. We
believe, for our part, the fruit of inquiry to be this: that the young
man learns to perceive that the individual study to which he especially
devotes himself, is only one branch of the great tree of knowledge;
that no science, sundered entirely from the rest, can proceed
prosperously to its own completion; that a science pursued alone and in
an isolated manner, cannot be properly called a science; but that all
the sciences stretch forth their sisterly hands to each other, and form
themselves into a beautiful circle, out of which they will not suffer
themselves to be torn by an unskilful person.

He will perceive, that a well-grounded study of professional science
even, can only base itself on a philosophical foundation; and that he
who, on the contrary, falls into one-sidedness, must become merely a
clever plodder, or a charlatan. He will perceive that the arts and
sciences are as intimately connected, as the capacity for the true, the
good, and the beautiful is united in the spirit of man with the
understanding. But is there one who has acquired no single perception
of all this; has he only crammed into his head the dusty chaff of
learning; has he, in the acquisition of this false learning, lost the
taste for all that is good and beautiful!--it had been better that he
had never entered on this field, which for him has had no result but
that of drying up his brain with the heat of a confused and unfruitful
knowledge.

Truly, there are yet other results of student-life than such as these:
namely, those of a spurious erudition; results which for the quondam
student, are yet more sorrowful, and which fill the heart of the
spectator with pity and abhorrence. We mean the consequences which
habits of drinking, and of other wild practices--such as the miserable
passion for play, draw after them. It is true that we see many wretched
creatures glide trembling about, who have laid the first foundations of
their aberrations at their university. But we see equally many, or more
such miserables, who never visited such an institution: and if we find
many sorrowful histories in the university city, of the students who
had taken their own lives because they had plunged themselves into
inextricable debt; if we hear many a one at the end of his academical
career lament bitterly over his lost and misspent time; we may be
seized with a horror of such places as strong, as when we read what
Jean Paul has depicted in such fearful colours of a similar
unfortunate:--"And he brought out of the whole rich life nothing but
errors, sins and diseases; a wasted body and a weary soul; a breast
full of poison and an age full of remorse. His beautiful youthful days
now changed themselves into spectres, and dragged him back to that
sweet morning where his father had first placed him, at the point of
the diverging paths of life, the right hand of which leads into the
sun-path of virtue, into a wide quiet land, full of light and of
harvest-fields, and of angels; and that of the left conducts down
through the mole-burrowings of crime, into a black cavern full of
down-dropping poison, of darting snakes, and of a damp and sultry
vapour. Ah! the snakes hang on his bosom, and the poison drops on his
tongue, and--he knew where he was. Wild, and with inexpressible horror
and anguish, he cried to heaven--'Give me my youth again! O Father!
place me again on the diverging path that I may choose differently!'"

I say, we, and more especially the foreigner, hearing and seeing such
things, should regard those places with horror. But let the latter
think, how many young people here are collected together; and that
amongst them must of a certainty be many very thoughtless, and no few
of them decidedly bad characters. Let him recollect that these numbers,
who have just escaped from the strict bondage of the schools, now
suddenly stand free, torn loose from all family bonds, to act without
restraint, and at their own pleasure. Let him reflect that they are in
a place where opportunities for every species of extravagance are so
freely offered; where, if their purses are exhausted, so many are at
hand ready to lend. Let him again reflect, that the student is exposed
to all those temptations at an age at which the passions rage often
with a fearful strength; at an age which causes him to stagger between
its extremes. Let him, and let us, weigh all this, and then we cannot
wonder, if many a one in this contest goes down; if many a one fails to
accomplish the aim of his ideal activity; and we shall even rejoice
that so many honourably pass through the ordeal, and choose the right.
Goethe's Wahrheit und Dichtung presents us with a passage which is
particularly applicable to this subject.

"All men of good disposition feel, in the progress of their education,
that they have a double part to play in the world--an actual and an
ideal one,--and in this feeling is to be sought the ground of every
thing that is noble. What of the actual is allotted to us, we find only
too clear; what concerns the ideal, we can seldom come into a distinct
conception of. The man may seek his higher destiny on the earth or in
heaven, in the present or in the future; but on that account he remains
exposed to a constant wavering from within, and to a constantly
disturbing influence from without, till he once for all takes the
resolution to declare that is the right which is conformable to his
individual condition and character."

But before we take our leave of those who, as we have said, have chosen
the right, and now leave the university to enter upon a new life, let
us cast one sorrowful retrospective glance at him, whom death so early
has snatched away from his brethren. And here it rejoices us to behold
how the student seeks to honour and preserve the memory of the for-ever
departed.

When youth, in its strength, in its beauty and freshness, is snatched
away, and is borne to the grave, who does not feel sorrow at heart,
even if he were a stranger to the departed? But in such sorrowful
moments we feel a peculiar pleasure in mounting higher and higher into
a sentiment of grief, till the exhausted spirit dissolves itself in an
infinitude of wo. In the decoration of the funeral procession with
every symbol of sorrow, we behold the desire of friends to do the
greatest possible honour to the deceased in the eyes of the world, and
to bring even this to participate in the mournful interest. If then
this be the intention of the last honours, no one has perhaps more
completely accomplished the object than the student, when he
accompanies his departed friend to his last resting-place by night, and
with the light of torches.

In the streets a curious multitude has gathered together to behold the
solemn train, and moves hither and thither. The tolling of the funeral
bell, announcing the setting forward of the train, has brought us also
to the window, and in silence we look forth into the yet dark streets.
Busy fancy carries us quickly far away to the parents of the deceased,
who now, in unspeakable grief, bewail perhaps the only son, him whom
they hoped soon again, after the years of separation, to have folded in
their arms; who, so thought they, should now cheer and enliven their
old age. Then conducts it us to his solitary death-bed, where in vain
he called on the names of those whom he loved--of those who watched his
childhood; where sorrowfully he thought of their pain; where, finally,
he thanked the friends who, though they had been but for a short period
united to him in friendship, had, through their sympathy and faithful
affectionate care, softened and made consolatory his last hours.

An uncertain and ruddy light now plays upon the houses and the waving
folk's-mass, and the night brings to us the long-drawn tones of the
trumpets, which, wailing with sorrow, make every chord of our inner
life vibrate. Now they call back to us the dear ones that we have
already borne to the grave, and the uncertain light of the torches
causes their forms to sweep before our excited imaginations in a
spirit-train. Now these thrilling notes seem to lament the
transitoriness of all earthly things, and to complain of the dreadful
ordinations of heaven.

The scene becomes continually clearer and brighter; the individual
torches and their bearers appear distinctly, and behold! the mass of
people separates before our eyes. To right and left they shrink back,
as if the multitude feared that advancing train would yet snatch
another out of this moving throng, out of the gladsome drift of life
into the chill of the grave.

A numerous band of music comes at the head of the procession, lighted
by torch-bearers. Then follows the funeral car, covered with black
cloth and drawn by black horses. Upon the car lies the Chore-band, the
Chore-caps of the deceased, and two crossed swords, all covered with
mourning crape, and surrounded with mourning wreaths. We remark also
particularly one smaller garland; it is formed of white roses, and is,
so we are told, from the sorrowing hand of some unknown fair one.

This car, this coffin, incloses the mortal remains of the student whom
so lately we saw traversing these streets in the freshness of youth,
whose strong arm has lifted one of these swords in defence of his
honour. This city, the witness of his fresh and lively existence, will
soon have forgotten him.


                  Through life's course unto his goal
                    With the tempest's speed roan driveth;
                  Then within the true friend's soul
                    Yet a little while surviveth.
                                                         _Uhland_.


Immediately before the car, go two of the beadles carrying fasces
wreathed with crape. On each side and behind the car, walk the
companions of the Chore, all in simple black mourning, and with hats.
Immediately behind the Chore also we see two clergymen in black costume
walking. This whole group is surrounded by the torch-bearers. Then come
all the other students who were acquainted with the deceased, and who
have added themselves to the train. Before them goes the leader of the
procession, with two attendants or marshals. The peculiar mourning
costume--the buckskins and great jack-boots--the large storm or
two-cocked hat, bordered with black and white crape, with sweeping
feathers--the great leathern gauntlets--the sword trailing in its
sheath--the broad Chore-riband, veiled in crape; all these particulars
point him out. His two attendants are similarly attired, but without
the storm-hat. The students then follow two and two, in divisions
according to their Chores, and others add themselves. In two long lines
they advance slowly on each side of the street, and from time to time
we observe an officer marching between these lines, distinguished by
his cerevis cap and riband, while he carries in his hand his sword, its
colours also veiled in crape, and its sheath hanging from his left
side. These maintain the order of the procession. Formerly it was
customary for them to be more ceremoniously attended, similarly to the
leader of the train. In the same costume as the leader of the train,
however, comes its closer, also accompanied by his two attendants; and
these personages are chosen by the Chores from amongst their tallest
members, as a matter of state.

Thus the procession moves on slowly through the streets, and we see a
seriousness expressed on the countenances of most of the attendants,
which the peculiar paleness that the torchlight is wont to give,
greatly heightens. While the murmur of the thoughtless multitude
announces to us the termination of the train, let us hasten, by a
shorter cut than they, to the Friedhof, the churchyard where the
students are interred. Here the train assembles itself around the open
grave. The clergyman steps into the midst of the silent throng, and
having pronounced his address, closes it with his last benediction.
Then steps forward one of the friends of the deceased, to clothe in
words once more before the assembled crowd, his painful feelings. Yet
once more calls he to their remembrance the true friendship of the
departed, his manly worth, and his genuine German mind. Yet once more
he dwells on all that they have lost in him. A few stanzas are sung,
from the beautiful hymn "From High Olympus," which he had so often
joined them in. And now the coffin must descend; and all press forward
to discharge to him their last duty, by throwing each a handful of
earth upon him. Lastly, the lowered swords are crossed over his grave,
and their clash is the signal for the return of the train.

We perceive in many of these funeral ceremonies a similarity to those
with which the deceased soldier is interred; and this is still more
strikingly shown in the manner in which they return to one of the
larger squares, there to burn the torches--a manner which we can by no
means approve.

No longer solemnly and silently tread back the throng; but instead of
mourning airs, we hear the march, nay, even the merry waltz and the
gallopade. Arrived in one of the larger squares, the train march round
it, and turning towards the centre, at a given signal, let their
torches fly up into the air, and fall on a heap in the midst. They
whirl up, describing many a fiery circle and convolution ere they reach
the flaming pile; and now, while this one animated and huge torch
lights up all around with a strong radiance, and the dark and giant
clouds of smoke, which rolling up, mixed with the many-coloured flames,
spread themselves to the heavens, the voices of the assembled students
join in chorus the music-accompanied song of


                        Gaudeamus igitur,
                        Juvenes dum sumus.


And we see how speedily youth can step from one feeling to another. We
see also the thought--"Though an individual falls, the great whole yet
continues; it was for that, that he laboured, and his exertions have
not been in vain;" we see this thought expressed in--


                 It shall live! the Academical Freedom!


which bursts forth from a thousand voices, amid the clashing together
of the swords.

Finally, the torch-pile having nearly consumed itself in its splendid
light, is extinguished--an image of the high-aspiring youth who has
been borne to the grave; and--


            As nothing had occurred now all is silent;
            The bells have pealed out, the songs are ended.
                                                         _Uhland_.


We have deferred the description of a torch-train, which is, on solemn
or festive occasions, conducted in honour of a professor, etc., to this
chapter; and it is only necessary here to remark, that on these
occasions, the mourning attributes and contingencies of course being
absent, the general arrangement and proceeding is the same.

Only such students who have distinguished themselves in a Chore, and
are on that account well known to the whole student body, are buried
with the honour of a torch-train. Others are interred in the day, and
the attendants follow either on foot or in mourning coaches. The
permission for a torch-train must always be obtained from the
Academical Senate.

The students in like manner join themselves to the funeral train
of a teacher of the university, with the rest of the members of the
High-school, as well as other mourners. If it be that of a professor
little known or little esteemed, only those of his own faculty attend;
but if it be the funeral of a man distinguished for his eminent talents
as a teacher, for the excellence of his character, and for his services
to the university, they scarcely omit one of their number.




                             CHAPTER XXIII.

                              THE COMITAT.


But we have hitherto only turned our attention to the images of death;
let us now accompany the more happy youth who sails out of the joyful
Burschen world into Philisterium, on his progress. During the student
period, the academician generally far separated from his connexions,
sometimes pays them a visit in the vacation.


      And when again he visits us!--O God! my wish is won!
      I see him with his black mustache the real Muses' son!
      "The Ferien[48] now ended--I must away--adieu!
      And now until I've finished, I come no more to you."


If the student always so lived as during the whole last year or
half-year of his university-life, we might have been spared the labour
of writing the tenth and other chapters of our volume. There he sits
now, in his solitary little room. Instead of frolicksome brothers, the
old folios surround him; he has even forgot the Commersing, and instead
of that he sips his cup of coffee, in order again to revive the
exhausted spirit of his life. His duelling wrath is directed against
the flies that disturb him in his studies, and his pipe is the only
friend that cheers his spirit in his solitude.

Students who have lived jovially, are accustomed to denote that they
have arrived at this melancholy termination of their campaign by
exchanging the cap for the Philistine hat, and their cronies are
reasonable enough then to perceive, that nobody may disturb them in
these their arduous exertions, as, indeed, the Burschen-life cannot
last for ever. After these glorious exertions, the son of the Muses
plunges boldly into the doctoral examination. This is partly made in
writing, partly orally, and is conducted under the superintendence of
the Dean, who also selects the questions, to which the youth under
examination, isolated in a room of the Dean's house, gives his answers.
The examination is seldom closed under a week; after which he receives,
as its result, from the examining professors of the faculty, one of the
usual degrees of the university, unless his acquirements have been so
indifferent, that his evil-star, as the students say, has caused him to
fall through.

The usual degrees are these four--"Summa cum laude;" "Præclara cum
laude;" "Insigni cum laude;" "Magno cum laude;" (feliciter evasit, as
the student jocosely says.) In most states the doctoral examination
precedes the state examination, and the examinee acquires the right to
be admitted to the latter when he has passed his doctoral examination,
and has written a dissertation. In other states, as in Baden, the
reverse is the fact.

Is the new doctor then dubbed?--he has sworn his oath on the fasces,
and he hastens to announce this new distinction to his delighted
connexions, and to apprise them of his speedy return home.


      See! Father, see! a letter! his student days are done,
      A Doctor they've created, with high applause, thy son.
      By the next post, so writes he, to-morrow e'en to dine!
      He comes--"Then, mother, fetch thou thy last flask of good wine."

                                                       _Chamisso_.


When now the quondam Bursch returns home, in order then to prepare
himself to pass the State's examination, the portal of Philisterium,
his university companions accompany him in procession out of the city.
This accompaniment they call the Comitat.


            What rings and sings in the street out there!
            Open the windows, ye maids so fair.
            'Tis the Bursché, away he wendeth--
            The Comitat him attendeth.
                                                   _Uhland_.


Such a comitat was, in former times, more stately and striking than at
present. Before rode in Kollar and Kanonen, that is, in buckskins and
jack-boots, the assembled Chore-brothers, wearing the Chore-caps and
bands, in their right hands their drawn swords. Then followed in a
carriage with four or six horses, the senior in the fullest gala dress,
and wearing the storm-hat, and holding two crossed swords. Then
followed in a carriage drawn by the same number of horses, the
Departing Bursch. He sate on the left side in the old Burschen dress,
with the old cap on, while on his right hand sate two Foxes, dressed in
the highest gala uniform, who were attending on him with the greatest
assiduity, performing every possible service for him, especially in
lighting his pipe for him. On each side of the carriage was generally
wont a student also to ride. The rest of the students who joined the
procession, now followed in two-horse carriages, and the Pawk-doctor
did not fail to appear in the train. The train-closer came last, in the
style in which we have before described him, either on horseback with
his drawn sword, or in a carriage holding the crossed swords. So moved
on the picturesque procession to the next place, where they once more
assembled themselves to enjoy the Burschen-life. Finally, the Mossy
Bursch must say a last farewell to the university city; finally, must
he tear himself from the arms of his companions, and hasten towards his
home. He carries with him out of the city of the Muses many a
delightful remembrance, and brings to his parents and relations, to
whose arms he returns, as the testimony of his scientific acquirements,
the diploma of Doctor.


                            THE OLD BURSCH.

      Think'st thou thereon how in the Burschen season,
      So light and free, life unto thee did show?
      Think'st thou thereon--how, and with fullest reason,
      Lovely it seemed to feel young friendship's glow?
      Rememb'rest then, what glad throngs thou didst see soon
      As Brothers greet thee--true in joy and wo?
      When near us lies nor foul deceit could won?--
      Speak, Ancient House! oh! think'st thou yet thereon?

      Rememberest thou, the good old time and tide then,
      In German coat, long hair, and open breast;
      Heft under arm,[49] the rapier by the side then,
      With zeal and courage we in college pressed,
      And fought our way all through the deep-and-wide fen,
      Of the most learned lecturer's wild-goose quest.
      Then by conceit nor rank imposed upon?--
      Speak, Ancient House,--oh! think'st thou yet thereon?

      Thinkest thou yet how the Philistines fearéd,
      Yet still gave credit when the Bursché came;
      To the Prorector when with plaints they faréd,
      The Landsmannschaft did straight the Bann proclaim?
      Thinkest thou yet how boldly then we daréd
      With lovely maids, who still, so mild, so tame--
      How in Commers to heaven we have gone--
      Speak, Ancient House! oh! think'st thou yet thereon?

      Rememberest thou each tragi-comic action--
      How we did fight, since I had thee touchirt?
      But when the bleeding wound gave satisfaction,
      How heartier than ever we smollirt?
      And how we then, both true unto our paction,
      In Carcer two long moons each other cheered?
      In Carcer even clinked glasses,--cared for none?
      Speak, Ancient House! oh! think'st thou yet thereon!

      I think thereon! oh! ne'er shall I forget it!
      The good, the dear, the ancient Burschentide!
      Oh! that 'tis gone! that heaven each brief term set it!
      East, west, the brothers scattered on each side!
      And villany! since then I oft have met it!
      Yes, life disgusts me--all so cold and wide!
      Courage, Old House! sing "Gaudeamus" on!
      Canst "thou" it yet? Ah! God! I think thereon!




                             CHAPTER XXIV.

       SUMMARY OF THE ACTUAL MERITS AND DEMERITS OF STUDENT LIFE.


          Prove all things; and hold fast that which is good.


The life and habits of the student are closed with the last chapter. We
have accompanied him from the time when he advanced from the school
into the free atmosphere of the university, till that in which, turning
his back on the joyful Burschen-world, he sailed forth into the
Philisterium. The English reader has attended us on a progress through
a strange country, which lay so near him, and yet was so enigmatical to
him; and we hope that his trouble has not proved irksome to him. It is
true that the Student-life has its rough and eccentric side; and this,
as falling most prominently under the eye, has not escaped the
foreigner. On the other hand, many have endeavoured, in their writings,
to represent these in the most exaggerated manner. But the Student-life
has also a beautiful and a poetical side, and this many do not think
worthy of their time and attention, while others have no sentiment for
it, and therefore no perception of it. When, moreover, in English
periodicals are exhibited such caricatures and calumnious portraitures
as genuine delineations of what would be, truly, very singular
proceedings and persons; if the reader has carried away with him these
as true, because they have been written in Germany and with an air of
authority, we need not wonder that he turns from these monstrous and
bizarre pictures with shuddering and contempt, and if he laugh at the
folly and reprobate the immorality of the German youth. But after we
have sketched the true features of German Student-life, we leave it to
the reader to make his reflections upon it, and to extract the grains
of wheat from the chaff.

There remain for us, however, still several questions which the more
particularly demand answers, because hereupon the most singular notions
prevail. What gains the student by this academical life? What does he
carry with him out of it? and what does he leave behind in it? and what
becomes of him next!

When we have decided upon the advantage which the student derives from
the academical life, we shall then feel ourselves prompted to say a few
words upon the tendency of certain institutions of the German
universities; on the scientific and moral spirit which prevails amongst
the students. We shall further proceed a little to explain some
singular-seeming customs and, practices, and, so far as these are
concerned, as we always speak particularly of Heidelberg, to cast some
glances of comparison upon other German and foreign universities. In
such a parallel it is also interesting to observe how the universities,
as institutions of education, operate thus essentially on the political
relations of states, and on the other hand, how they are determined in
their developement by these. These proposed points are difficult; and
their thorough discussion would lead us too far. We must therefore
content ourselves with distinctive indications.

Justly says Thiersch--"The universities are a vastly intertwined and
entangled whole, at which people and ages have laboured, in order to
bring it to its present extension."

The first and only true object of the academician is, and for ever
remains, the study of science. This constitutes the central point,
which all intently seek, and where all find themselves, without regard
to external circumstances. Knowledge, and the strife after it, are
sacred to the student; and these are the anchor, which, dropped into
the heart of every one, has lashed to it that internal spiritual bond
which embraces the whole class. The single aim of the academician is
the free pursuit of knowledge.

It is true that the majority of those who seek the university, have the
object, at a later period, of entering on state offices; and the
acquisition of knowledge made at the university, places them in a
condition to be able properly to discharge the duties of those offices,
which are the means of their future existence. But the later practical
application of this knowledge, which is so far the medium of his
profession, comes before the eye of the student in the background. In
the society of young people who are in the pursuit of knowledge, in the
intercourse with teachers whose object is the diffusion of the same,
and surrounded by external institutions which all bear upon the
advancement and the facilitation of study, he remains far from the
thought that knowledge is to be regarded as a milch-cow, which will
furnish him hereafter with butter. The unfolding of his intellectual
capacity in every direction; the following out one or the other in
particular, appears to him the business of life in these years. It is
exactly this which essentially distinguishes the corporation of
students above every thing else;--of which the student is so proud. He
despises the Philistine, who, in all circumstances of his life, is only
thinking of his petty gains.

It is grounded psychologically on this feeling of individual worth as a
disciple of wisdom, that the Burschen honour springs up, and holds
every student equally high and equally dear. As a corporation, one
stands for all, and all for one; and without drawing a moral death upon
it, this honour cannot suffer itself to be wounded. Study is pursued at
the German universities with zeal and radicality. Proofs of this, are
the great numbers of young men who every year pass through the
State's-examinations, and testify their ability in all the offices of
their country: proofs are, the writers of Germany, who owe their
accomplishment to these institutions: proofs, finally, are, the
preponderating number of well-educated men compared with those of other
countries, who draw their support from the academical foundations. But
we must not go so far. Let any one compare the German student, whose
acquirements are weighed by a competent judge, with the student of any
foreign university.

Manifold indeed have been the complaints of the laziness of the first
period of the academical life; and we can only repeat what we have said
on this subject in an earlier portion of our volume. There is an abrupt
transition from the studies of the Gymnasium to those of the
University; and the newling at the university wastes and wears away
much time, especially in the first months, and indeed during the whole
first semester, before he has accustomed himself to the free condition,
and the free and fresh atmosphere of the university. But is this of
such mighty importance? It is the transition into a state of greater
self-dependence which demands this sacrifice; and he only who has no
conception of the strengthening and fortifying influence of university
life,--he who does not perceive with what higher advantage this
material loss is counterbalanced, can alone break out into lamentations
on this head. He who is accustomed to chase youth out of one pen into
another, and to begrudge every free breath, every lighter moment, every
refreshment of over-passing Muse--who trembles and shakes lest by such
trivial circumstances they should have lost both body and soul; will
indeed judge otherwise, but deserves, in fact, to be sent back into the
school of literary and pedagogic necessity, out of which he was
expelled by some mischance. That portion of the youth however,
who have arrived on the threshold of the university honest and
well-disposed--and this portion is so predominant that the remainder
appears in comparison insignificant--this large and elect portion of
the better endowed, soon pass through the first rude shock of
difficulty and surprise, and through the mere pleasure-rambling in the
garden of the Muses. The student zealously busied to develope his
intellectual constitution, healthily and in all its members, will find
himself in the strongest manner supported by the regulations of the
German university; and of these we will speak anon.

On the other hand, the free intercourse with his cotemporaries operates
most favourably. When the youth enters the university, he steps at once
into a corporation composed of the most opposite materials. Every
student brings with him the peculiarities of his Fatherland, in manners
and speech; and how manifold is the variety! To say nothing of the
foreigners who frequent our different universities, what a difference
is there yet between the different races which speak the German tongue.
What gradations from the cold, ceremonial North German, who clings fast
to etiquette, and with difficulty attaches himself to others, to the
good-natured South German, who, knowing little of outward forms,
readily finds a friend to whom he can ally himself. Every foreigner
retains the characteristics of his own land, and often takes a pride in
exhibiting them, by which means he becomes a person detached from the
mass. We find the strongest antagonisms of this kind; and it might make
one doubtful of the reciprocating influence of this cause, had we not
found by experience that the result was a favourable one. The
intellectual bond of knowledge here embraces the sons of all nations;
and thus these apparently heterogeneous elements can only operate
auspiciously, since the advantage is not to be overlooked which the
close and mutual contact affords, of learning to know foreign manners
and customs, and for each to recognise his own in the true light.

And here we must again call attention to the fact, of the essential
difference between the result of academical life, and that of burger
life. As to the moral side of the question, there have not been wanting
people who have laboured to represent the university as a gulf which
swallows up the flower of the youth, as a pool out of which only a few
are happy enough to escape without ruin of soul and body. These are
ridiculous and malicious exaggerations. No one will attempt to deny the
dangers of university life, the temptations to deviations from
propriety; and according to time and situation must every university,
in a greater or less degree, be exposed to these; but every one who is
not blinded by excess of prejudice or enmity, knows that, besides those
who give way to temptation, by far the greater number return to their
friends from the High-school, as sound in body and mind as they came to
it.

The hope would be idle, to chase evil quite away; such a hope is
opposed to the total experience of all people and times, to the nature
of advancing manhood, and to that degree of freedom, which must be
allowed to youth in the years of its growing developement for the
prosperous completion of this developement itself, and which every
where, though it may be under different forms, will be afforded. There
is no law, no precaution, which can possibly preserve the youngling on
the higher steps of his career if he does not watch over himself; and
one cannot forget the just observation of the old English vicar, that
the virtue that needs continual watching, is not worth the cost of a
sentinel. But this is the common lot of all manly youth; and we may
boldly assert, that aberrations amongst the other classes--amongst the
younger ranks of the military, of the mercantile, and of other
departments of trade, are not less, but probably more extensive; yes,
it is satisfactory to know that in these respects the academical life
is in a progressive state of steady improvement.

But if we inquire further what are those things which most particularly
strike the foreigner in the student; those things which are most
ridiculous, and disapproved; we find that, briefly, they are the
following,--the singular dress of the student, the strong smoking, and
his habits of beer-drinking and duelling.

That the student in early times, more than at present, adopted a
singular costume, arose from two causes, either out of convenience or
vanity. In both cases, the matter is a very innocent one, and the
academical boards did wisely to permit him these fancies, so far as
they were not the signs of an interdicted verbindung. The life at the
university, as we have had now abundant occasion to observe, is a
peculiar one. When this extends itself so far that a separate court of
justice is allowed to the students, is it at all to be wondered at,
that the Student who feels himself in every respect so distinct from
the Philistine, should also seek to express this distinction by his
costume? He only does this so long as he belongs to the High-school,
and with the conclusion of this period, ceases also naturally, the
occasion for this peculiarity. Considerations of _convenance_ weigh
little with the students amongst themselves,--they weigh little with
them towards those who surround them, as it is by no means an object of
the student to seek advantage from those moving around him, nor to
render himself particularly acceptable to them. Therefore in small
cities these peculiarities of dress, chosen according to every
individual fancy, strike the eye more; while in larger cities the
student, playing a more subordinate part, unites himself more to the
general mass of society, and loses himself more in family circles.
There he will surrender himself to the existing order and convenances
of society, since, so soon as he enters the salon, he conducts himself
strictly by the rules of etiquette. But he is no slave of fashion. This
is repugnant to his freedom of thought; and he believes himself to have
as good a right to choose his own dress, as the lawgiver of fashion has
from the capital of France to prescribe what shall be held good ton in
external appearance. He is by no means so tyrannical as that personage,
since he desires from no comrade that he shall herein follow his
example; since he leaves, herein to every one perfect freedom, and
allows the native student to observe the stricter ceremonial of his
father-city.

And is his, really as it often is a most fantastic costume, more
singular or more contrary to nature, than the fashionable attire in
which many show themselves in the capitals of the whole world, and
above all, in which they present themselves to the eyes of the public
in the fashionable watering-places? Is he indeed the only one who
herein overleaps the bounds of etiquette? They who have seen the
grotesque paraphernalia in which the foreigners from beyond the Channel
suffer themselves to appear in Germany, will certainly not assert this.
And these do this in a foreign country; the student only in his German
Fatherland. Are there so many sects too, who distinguish themselves by
their peculiar dress, and shall this be so sharply objected to in the
student?

The smoking of tobacco is an accusation which the student shares in
common with the other classes of the community, and which only looks
the more striking in him. We will not defend this practice, on which so
much has already been said, nor that of beer-drinking; but we must
again take leave to observe, that in all this there is no compulsion.
The reader has probably alarmed himself by perusing the Beer-code,
which we have given at the end of this volume. It is well known that in
older times much more was drunken at the university, and that this
pernicious custom, especially in some of the German universities,
prevailed to a most lamentable degree. In those times many of these
beer-laws might be of great advantage, insomuch that they restrained
from greater excesses. As they now exist, no student is subjected to
them, who does not voluntarily submit himself to them, by associating
himself with the companies that assemble at the kneip. And even here it
is at his perfect option, at any moment, to declare that he will drink
no more, only he cannot break this declaration without paying the
penalty.

We are as little disposed to defend the duel. A reconciliation of
disputes between contenders, by the exertion of and through the means
of reason, either in the disputants themselves, or through their
friends; or if this were found impracticable, through the establishment
of a court of honour amongst the students, or through an appeal, in
serious cases, to the academical court, would certainly be a more
civilized proceeding. We may, indeed, hope that this will be
accomplished in time, and the more so, because the number of duels at
the universities, compared with former times, is already so much
diminished, and as the voices of many students are now raised against
this practice. Yet we must not judge the students too hardly on account
of the duel, but ought to take into the account the following
considerations in mitigation of our opinion.

No one is compelled to fight, who in the commencement declares that it
is contrary to his principles. Let it be recollected, that in the
university cities, more than elsewhere, young people are crowded
together, and compelled briskly to push and jostle each other, as it
were, in their course. Let it be remembered, that though we may
pronounce of the bulk of them, that they are well-educated youths, yet
at the same time, in comparison with the circumstances of other young
people, it is undeniable that far more frequent and greater occasions
for antagonist attrition occur amongst them--in part, no doubt, on
account of the greater pecuniary means in their possession, and still
more on account of the unavoidable necessity of social life amongst
themselves, especially in the lesser university cities, in which they
cannot mingle with the family circles.

The foreign universities, where the duel does not exist, cannot be
brought in evidence on this head, because they want other peculiarities
of the German universities, which are of apparently great advantage.
The constitution of the English universities, in particular, is totally
different to ours, and more resembles that of our seminaries, where the
students enjoy no such freedom. It must also be remembered that the
regulations of our universities make them accessible to those without
property, and who spring out of the lower classes, while in England
only the rich young men, and those out of the higher classes of
society, can possibly exist, with a few exceptions, at the great
universities of England. The advantage of the German universities in
this respect no one can deny, if he only turns his regard on the great
number of the most distinguished of the learned men of Germany, whose
talents have, through this very accessibility of the universities, been
made beneficial to the public.

On the other hand, one cannot expect from the student who has sprung
from one of the lower grades of society, the same degree of refinement
as graces those of a higher stand. Thus, no wonder, if through these
who have been accustomed to move in a ruder sphere of society,
occasions for contentions are more readily created. It must be
remembered that the student, be he who he may, regards himself on an
equality with his fellow-student; but on that account so much the more
jealously watches over his own honour, and on that account also
more readily believes himself insulted. Hence the customary formula
of a challenge, "Stupid youth!" which inevitably draws a duel after it,
is characteristic, as it clearly indicates that the feeling of
burschen-honour is grounded on the dedication to knowledge, whose
disciples can naturally in no way be so insulted as by the epithet
"stupid," which implies that he is totally unfit for a priest of
Minerva.

Let these facile occasions of strife be borne in mind, and then let
persons of practical experience be asked how many young people of other
grades are wounded and even killed in scuffles and cudgellings, they
will then be induced to judge more leniently of the duel amongst
students, and rather pardon the extremes of a feeling of honour, than
that the chance should possibly arise of a provoked student becoming in
effect the homicide of his fellows.

Thus we may regard the duel, under its regular form, as a sort of
discipline which the students exercise amongst themselves, and thus
banish every ruder and not seldom dangerous explosion of passion. We
say the duel in its regular form, and thereupon recall to the reader's
memory the following particulars. According to the regulations for the
arrangement of duels in Heidelberg, every challenge must be withdrawn
when the opponent declares that he gave the insult in a state of
intoxication. Every duel shall, before it is undertaken, be made known
to the Senior-Convention, and by it an accommodation shall be
attempted.

When these regulations are violated, this does not arise from the
regulations themselves, but from the partisans who have neglected to
demand from the seniors the execution of their own laws. The completion
of the duel, according to the Comment regulations, by sword stroke and
not by lunging, and with defensive costume, which covers almost every
exposed part of the body, renders any dangerous consequences almost
impossible. There is no instance, from time immemorial, of any such
regularly and formally completed duel in Heidelberg, being attended
with fatal consequences, or one which rendered life thereafter a
burden, as is only too frequently the case at universities where the
duel in _every_ form is punished more severely than as a breach of
discipline, and where, on that account, more dangerous but more easily
concealed weapons are resorted to.

By these observations we would by no means defend duels, but merely, in
some degree, excuse them. Laws against such customs, which are fast
rooted in old prejudices, are seldom very effectual. As little as the
fist-law could by power and at once be extirpated, so little, according
to our opinion, can this be accomplished with the duel. It is true that
there lies in the hands of the German governments, by means of the
State's-examination, a power of punishing and suppressing this practice
which foreign realms do not possess. They might, it may be said, pass a
law, that whoever had been engaged in a duel, should forfeit his right
to the State's-examination, and thereby state service. But it must be
answered, that this would be in the highest degree severe for a small
offence, which in itself the regular duel really is; thus, to punish a
young man in such a manner that this one folly should put an end
irrevocably to the whole of his life's prospects and career. Further,
it has been seen, that exactly at those times when the duel of every
kind was the most strictly interdicted and repressed, the most
dangerous duels by lunge and shots became more than ever frequent. And
yet these draw a punishment after them which has often made a young man
miserable for the remainder of his life. So long as it is not the
general opinion amongst the students, that the duel cannot be held as
satisfaction, so long will they, in case of actual insult, not be
deterred by the most stringent punishments from resorting to it. Till
then, would it not be the most reasonable course to visit the most
dangerous kinds of duelling with the most severe punishments of the
law, but to pursue the ordinary and less dangerous not so harshly? If
this alone remains to the student, he will by degrees convince himself
of the ridiculousness of such a sham-fighting, and the duel will, as it
is already become less piquant, cease altogether. It will be the duty
of the teacher to promulgate better views upon the nature of duelling
by speech and by writing, and thus to conduct their pupils out of the
spirit of it. This the greater number of them have even taken suitable
opportunities of doing. As an example we quote a part of the speech
which the Obermedizinalrath and Professor Dr. J. N. Ringseis delivered
on the 3d of December, 1828, in the hall of the High-school at Munich,
at a time when the duel there had become exceedingly predominant and
reckless.

"It is a sign of a noble mind to regard true honour as the highest
good, as higher than life itself. He only who does not fear death,
really possesses life. We will all strive after higher honour; and
every one of us must be prepared at any hour to sacrifice our life for
it. It is a duty through noble manners to honour ourselves; he only who
maintains a nobility of conduct himself, can respect the manners of
another. It is honourable to belong to a brave union; more mightily
works the spirit of every one in union. It is honourable to love your
native place, be it on the Isar, the Danube, the Rhine, or the Main,
since what German territory has not a host of glorious recollections?
It is an honourable, proud feeling to be able to wield the sword
skilfully, as if it were a member of our body. But he who honours
himself, his society, his native home, honours this feeling in another;
he who recognises the sacred destiny of the sword to be the protection
of the highest good of mankind, dishonours it not by unholy aims. The
officers of our army covered themselves with evergreen laurel,--how
rare is the duel amongst them! The hero youth of the universities of
North Germany performed miracles of bravery in the memorable Liberation
war; and the duel was, amongst those who returned, almost without
example. Rare indeed is it in the circles of the highest society; to
the noblest nations of antiquity, the Greeks and Romans, it was wholly
unknown.

"I repeat not the thousand-times-reiterated arguments against the
irrationality of the duel, since I know well that they have fought,
even excellent men, although convinced of the perversion of the
practice--have fought, bowing to the lordship of opinion, spite of the
certainty of losing office, property, freedom, and life itself. Truly
there belonged to such conduct a kind of obstinate bravery; but
greater, nobler, more worthy of the sight of heaven is the courage
which tames itself; the courage of him, who although fearless, although
practical in arms, although secure from discovery and punishment, yet
fights not; the hero-courage of a free obedience, which our poet
sings:--


       Courage has the Mameluke--obedience in the Christian law.


"How is it, friends, that we feel ourselves too effeminate to contend
for this loftiest laurel of courage and obedience? Certainly the
nobler, the more honourable, in every accomplishment the more advanced,
a man, a union, a people,--there for ever is and was the more rarely to
be found the duel. What, then, must be thought of men to whom the duel
is become a chief business of life? of youths called hereafter to
become the leaders and the lights of your people? How, ye jurists! ye
who hereafter will nicely weigh in the balance the right--will sharply
reprove insolent opposition to the law--and would rather suffer shame
and death than perpetrate the smallest injustice,--will you open the
way through audacious contempt of the laws?

"Medical men! called to wound that they may heal, not to destroy, will
you commit that double crime against the state?

"And could a philosopher--a theologist, so grossly deride the Divine
Teacher's word--'Do good to those who hate you; bless those who curse
you; pray for those who despitefully use you?'

"And, noble friends! can true honour prevail, where drinking,
quarrelling, and insult give the shameful occasions for the duel? True
honour! where he who refuses to fight a duel is exposed in rude verses
in public places, and is even maltreated with vulgar violence? True
honour! where in aggravation of disobedience, dishonourable lies are
also added? I glow with shame to the very depths of my mind, that any
amongst us, however few in number, could be so mean as to deny the
deed, could harden themselves shamelessly to make the denial a point of
honour! Oh! hideous spectre of honour, without the courage of truth and
of obedience! The courage of truth and obedience is the highest honour;
and he who binds himself to a union pledged to lies and to
disobedience, he has from the beginning no conception of honour; unfit
for a priest, unfit for a judge, unfit for a physician!

"O my friends, I see you burn with a noble indignation; you are all on
fire for honour, for the highest honour of manhood. Up then! there is a
vast, a boundless field of laurels for you, for us all, to contend for.
Shame to ignorance! shame to immorality! shame to the rude might of
arms, without knowledge, without morals, without obedience! shame to
obedience towards unions in things which God and the king forbid! In
knowledge, in morals, in obedience, in glowing love to King and
Fatherland--in them let every individual endeavour to outstrip another,
every union the other, our university all others. I call you, my
friends, to such a noble contest; and to it call you your honour, the
fame of our university, the fame of the Fatherland, and of our King!"

These abuses, which we have just now alluded to, that is, the passion
for the duel, and the strong drinking, are the causes which make the
Verbindungs, which are known under the name of Landsmannschafts and
Chores, odious. In fact, if one puts these dark adjuncts out of mind,
then the student life, and in particular the Chore life, has only a
cheerful aspect. The close incorporation of students into unions, which
have regular meetings in some particular place, from which every
uninvited disturber of order is banished; meetings for social
entertainment and exhilaration; for practice in bodily exercises, as in
fencing and gymnastics; these could only serve to a more speedy
accomplishment of active and intellectual men, and would be certainly
approved of by all reasonable persons. These dark adjuncts have brought
the Chore life into great unpopularity, and have induced many
governments to prohibit the Chores themselves, as the vehicles which
contain and maintain these pernicious practices. Yet it must be
remembered that practices so deeply rooted are not to be expelled by
force, but only through the advancing march of humane knowledge; and it
must be further acknowledged, that the Chores by the maintainance of
order in these things themselves, only prevent a greater outburst of
the wild Burschen-spirit. The governments have made use of the Chores
frequently in order to bring the student youth to a quicker adoption of
resolutions which would be for the good of the university, or of the
state; and this continues to be the case in those states where they are
yet allowed.

Let us imagine the Chores purified from their dross; they would then
represent unions which had their own constitutions, and where those in
reality who distinguished themselves most in outer life, would take the
first places. Let it not be believed that in such a case the proper
acknowledgment would be denied to him who, unincumbered with social
life, devoted himself exclusively to knowledge. This happens by no
means to those who belong to the present Chores under their present
circumstances. That the student jealously watches over his honour; that
he easily imagines this honour affected, grounds itself on the equal
standing which he gives to every one of his fellow-members. He makes
this sufficiently obvious himself, in that he will not permit the usual
duel between the Student and the Philistine. We cannot blame this
strict vigilance over the Burschen honour; but the means resorted to,
to restore wounded honour, are truly foolish, and worthy of punishment.
If we imagine the duel superseded by the sentence of a court of honour,
which condemned the guilty to beg pardon, or some other proportionate
punishment, there would be nothing further to be desired.

But the reasons which the government assigned for the proscription of
the Burschenschaft were totally different. They were determined to
this prohibition by this principle; that the student who is at the
High-school in order further to develope his intellectual faculties,
and to arrive at a scientific and political freedom in his views--that
he, the scholar, is not called to step forth here already as a teacher
of the people; that he is not called upon to overturn the constitutions
of states, before he has yet learned properly to analyse their nice and
elaborate construction; since it is a true assertion, that it is much
more easy to pull down than to build up; and it was a piece of
presumption in the youth to attempt to hurl down by violence a fabric,
which the best and wisest of the people had with their best strength
erected.

In Heidelberg, since the Marching-Forth of 1828, the Burschenschaft, as
its especial promoter, was anew strictly proscribed, but the
Landsmannschafts were sanctioned; and from each new-springing
Verbindung the word of honour was taken, by the academical board, that
it was no Burschenschaft. After some years, however, these
Landsmannschafts were forbidden also.

So far as the Burschenschaft was a union which, on account of its ideal
object, claimed prerogatives beyond the other Verbindungs, in so far by
that prohibition is its return to the High-school made impossible. But
so far as the Burschenschaft spirit is a real constitutional spirit, we
may in Heidelberg assert with pride, that it never was abandoned by the
young burgers of our High-school, and that all our present existing
Verbindungs are animated by this same noble feeling. This
constitutional mind has already displayed itself prominently on so many
occasions, that it is not necessary to bring evidences of it. We may
simply allude in confirmation, to the interest which the students have
always manifested in the proceedings of the Landtag, and to the
testimonies of acknowledgment which they have always given to those
teachers who have there exerted themselves for the good of the people,
and for the maintenance of constitutional freedom. We may notice the
sympathy with the unhappy state of Poland, which the students publicly,
by word and deed, expressed to the Polish officers who passed through
the city. Hence, because these unions do not assume as their object the
preparation for the realization of some certain idea, but merely a
pleasant social life during the university years, it does not follow
that the hearts of these young do not beat warmly for knowledge, for
right and freedom, and that no individual amongst them pursues this
noble aim, nor does it follow that these unions set themselves in
opposition to such more ideal aims as may already be begun there to be
pursued.

An esteemed German philologist says--"Most of our German universities
bear the humane character of fine manners and chivalric bearing. They
array themselves in the clear, radiating colours of the dreams of
youthful pleasure; and is there conspicuous, indeed, in the academic
life itself, the foam of a bubbling fermentation, this clears itself
with time, and becomes in the end a noble and strong spirit." A finer
panegyric we cannot pronounce; but we may corroborate it, when we add
to the observations already made, how much the spirit of the young man
is stimulated at the university to activity; and with what noble
energy, which so eminently distinguishes the student class, he employs
this activity in all directions. As there is no rule without its
exception, so there is, indeed, such here; but we must not lay the
measuring-wand of a general judgment on these few extravagances, though
in the full elucidation of the subject we may not pass them entirely
without observation.

Abroad, people have had such singular notions of the German students,
that they could not for their lives conceive what could be made, in
after-life, of such wild fellows; and have been amazingly astonished to
hear, that they afterwards became like other reasonable people, and
administered all sorts of offices of the state conscientiously, and
with the most exemplary and calm discretion. We recollect a passage in
the humorous work of Mr. Hood, "Up the Rhine;" at which certainly many
a German student has already heartily laughed, as he has read it there
as something new--that "it is notorious that these Burschen come in,
according to the proverb, as Lions and go out as Lambs,--some of the
wildest of them settling down in life as very civil civilians, sedate
burgomasters, and the like."

Let it never be forgotten that the students represent a peculiar class,
of which they who compose it, however, are but temporary members. Shall
the student then carry over with him into the Philisterium, his
singular attire, and his Chore-colours? It would seem as if foreigners
had quite supposed this must be so. But we would ask them whether it
ever occurs that a member of parliament makes a speech in his place in
the House, arrayed in the student-gown which he wore at Cambridge?
Shall the student, indeed, carry with him his sword, that with
eccentric courage he may defend the Burschen honour, when he has
himself long become a Philistine? Shall the quondam student forsake
wife and children, in order to go and vindicate the injured majesty of
studentdom, in order to join himself to the Marching-Forth? Could such
things be, then must the German academies truly be regarded as so many
great lunatic asylums, and nothing better or wiser could be done than
to extirpate them, root and branch.

A few words yet remain to be said on the actual advantage derived by
the German student from this life, and carried forward with him out of
the green Burschendom, into the seriousness of his later vocation, and
on what his after-vocation may be.

The great business of the student, as already stated, is the pursuit of
science; and it is less the mass of knowledge here harvested, which
brings him future advantage, than the capacity which he acquires, let
him move in later life in what circle he may, of comprehending and
acting in a pure scientific and philosophical spirit, upon every matter
which may be thrown into his path. The student-life has many favourable
influences on the character of a young man. Though the Bursch, as it
regards his social position, naturally allies himself most closely to
his landsmen, yet he feels himself compelled by those causes already
pointed out, to exert a general tolerance towards his brethren, which
though often abandoned and again submitted to, yet inoculates him with
a greater degree of sufferance, which on his departure from the
academical, for a more general life, unfolds itself more freely, and
extends itself to all social relations. The student, indeed, as such,
knows little tolerance towards non-students; yet the patience which he
learns to exert towards his fellow-students, is not without its
consequence, and when he steps out of his confined sphere, it then
clothes itself in another outward form, and takes a general direction.
The student maintains strictly and perseveringly his own views, though
consequently, often erroneous ones; but this serves in after-life, to
lay the ground-work of greater steadfastness of character. This
firmness continues with him to his grave, though his views and
principles modify and purify themselves, as his growing intelligence
directs him more and more into the track of truth. And as the student
stands upon his honour, for which full of the highest enthusiasm he
glows, and joyfully offers up property and life, so stands he in the
bonds of truth and friendship. Such bond of friendship is to him sacred
as his own life, and it is to him continually a guiding-star through
the gloomy paths of existence. It is to him the noblest treasure which
he carries with him into the tumult of life, and he continues to it
inviolably faithful.

In addition to this, the student has learned to arrive at the poetical
side of life. He has continually sought and enjoyed pleasure and
satisfaction; and let no man imagine that these foretell only a
future trifler. No, he is thereby invited to enliven the stupidity of
every-day life, and to throw new interests around the path of
existence. That, however, every character, according to its own
individuality, more or less favourably developes itself, and that these
influences of student-life here described differ in degree in different
individuals, needs no stating. We seek only to show general causes, and
these are certain. Scientific merit, self-confidence, consciousness of
being able to thank his own individual strength for his existence, the
honour of men, and the truth of friends,--can more beautiful or
delightful results than these be found? Even on the outward appearance
of the quondam Bursch, the student-life has a favourable influence. The
moment that the young man has entered the Philisterium he adopts the
existing convenances, so far as appear conducive to his purpose, but
only so far as that he can yet maintain that independence of fashion
which he has already asserted. His outward manner of life continues
free and unrestrained; and this, united to the practice of making a
greater tour after his examination has passed, as well with scientific
as with other objects, gives to the former academician a higher
bearing, an acquired tact, which adheres to him through existence, and
again pronounce in their consequences the greatest advantages of
student-life.

That the Burschen-life, through the greater freedom which it enjoys,
may also bring great disadvantages to him who has abused it, and which
may poison later life; who will attempt to deny? We have already
pointed out the rocks and breakers of this ocean of transition life.
The Burschenschaft agitations of a former period also plunged many into
misfortune; but this danger is now in a great measure past, and for the
last time gleamed up a political tendency for a few moments in the
Verbindung, like glimmering ignis-fatui, in the years 1830-32.

When the student now quits the university, where he has left behind him
the follies of youth, and bearing with him a greater or less amount of
intellectual acquisition, he enters immediately on the service of the
state. After his State's-examination it is very customary to make a
tour, before the young man for ever knits himself to one abode. Besides
those who in practical state's-service, or as teachers in the schools
and universities, work themselves forward, step by step, with more or
less speed, according to the degree of their ability and of their
diligence, or in proportion as they are favoured by fortune,--others
exert themselves in the wide field of daily literature, zealously
labouring to win the fame of authors and of poets. But follow whichever
path he may, let fortune smile on him or not--let him crown himself
with laurels, or strive for the wreath of glory in vain--never will he
who has been a genuine Bursch, become a Philistine; that is, in that
sense in which the student understands it. The words of the celebrated
Arndt express most lucidly this meaning of the word Philistine. "A
Philistine is a lazy, much-speaking, more-asking, nothing-daring man;
such a one who makes the small great, and the great small, because in
the great he feels his littleness and his insignificance. Great
passions, great enjoyments, great dangers, great virtues,--all these
the Philistine styles nonsense and frenzy. He will rather have life in
the pocket edition than in the folio, so that it can but be carried
through with the very least possible acting, thinking, and daring.
Rest, and rest again, and at any rate; a state of laziness, that he
loves, that he desires, that he preaches up, and for that he cries to
heaven and earth, if there is any chance of his being disturbed in it."

Into these faults he will never fall, who has once imbibed the
principles of a German university; and will only in so far belong to
the Philistines, as the student in a wider sense terms every one a
Philistine who no longer belongs to the Burschen.

What we have now been saying may convince us how beneficial is the
influence of the student-life on that which follows. Nobler principles
of action awake in the breast of the academician, and are nourished;
that here and there starts up amongst them something perverse, is not
denied; but the kernel is good, it germinates, it grows into a tree,
and bears excellent fruit, which the quondam Bursch and his
cotemporaries are destined to enjoy.




                              CHAPTER XXV.

           A REVIEW OF THE POLITICAL ASPECT OF STUDENT LIFE.


If we have hitherto regarded the life and pursuits of the university in
an isolated manner, and entirely on its own account, yet it can by no
means have escaped the reader that this life does not stand so
completely sundered from the general stream of events, but that the
mind and spirit of the university life is determined by the spirit of
the times, and that, on the other hand, it operates again powerfully on
the developement of the institutions and condition of the times. This
must have become sufficiently clear to us in noticing the earlier
Burschenschaft, and to increase and complete that conviction, we have
only to take a hasty review of what has been now written, and to add a
few other remarks.

The universities reflect the spirit of the times: its progress, its
weakness, its strength, are all imaged forth again in the science of
the age; and the schools are therefore exposed to the changes and
revolutions of the times, but are not unconditionally subjected to
them. They have strengthened that spirit of the time and of the people
in their exhaustion, by their inquiries and results; and not less
through teaching and the invisible power with which they have elevated
and ennobled the minds of the youth. They have enriched the sciences,
and adorned public affairs with beauty and wisdom. They have in part
laid the foundations of the intellectual greatness and high
accomplishment of Germany; in part strengthened and guaranteed them;
and are the pillars of the fairest and most unrivalled glory which our
country in the most recent times, and before the eyes of all Europe,
has achieved. The university is the central point and the heart of
science. From all sides stream to it the spirits which are athirst for
knowledge; and as they are ennobled, again from that central point
disperse themselves through all the members of Germany, diffusing
through them fresh nourishment and a splendid growth. The teachers and
accomplishers of the people go forth out of them. The battles of the
church were fought out in the university; and if, as it happened in the
contest of the Reformation, the faith of the Princess was forced upon
the High-school by the hand of power, yet the teachers and scholars of
the university seldom bowed before it. The teachers abandoned a place,
which would lay their consciences in chains, and sacrificing office and
income, sought an asylum in foreign lands. They often found a refuge in
another university which held the same faith as themselves; they
carried with them the troop of their scholars, who, as their faithful
bodyguard, attended them; and there fought anew and victoriously for
the success of the good cause.

The Professors of the High-schools have pre-eminently cooperated in
working out the constitution of the German States, and many excellent
men amongst them have contended for the freedom of the people, and have
boldly stood forward against every usurpation of despotism. We need
only give one example, and that of the most recent date; we need only
call to the reader's mind the Seven Professors of Göttengen, who
opposed themselves to the arbitrary violation of the constitution of
the state with all their power, and on that account in the most
unprincipled manner were ejected from their professorships. This
scandalous, and in Germany till then, unheard-of example of despotism,
notoriously threatened the destruction of the Georgia-Augusta, and for
a long time annihilated its prosperity; but other states, by their
reception and establishment of these professors, have shown that they
approved of their proceeding, and the exiled professors were every
where received by the German students with the testimonies of the
deepest veneration. If the Bundestag did not condemn the King of
Hanover as guilty, yet the judgments are well known, which many German
universities at its desire gave in, and in which they expressed in the
most strong and unqualified language their sense of the injustice of
the deed. We call to mind that the tyrant called on the King of
Wirtemberg to punish the audacity of the professors of Tübingen who had
sent in such a judgment, according to the enormity of their crime,--an
audacity which in Hanover would be expiated in chains; but the noble
monarch answered that in his land the freedom of teaching was a sacred
possession, which he would never infringe; but, for the rest, he
observed sarcastically, he left it to the High Court of Justice at
Celle to pronounce sentence on the guilt or innocence of his faithful
professors.

If the universities in such a manner grapple mightily with the
circumstances of the times, so are they, on the other hand, influenced
by them. They receive from the times the impressions, the tendency, the
frivolity as well as the earnestness, and distinguish themselves only
from the other circles of society in this, that in them the good and
the evil of the times more rapidly unfold themselves and take a
determinate form. The moral effeminacy of the nation at the time of the
French domination, operated on the ignoble natures amongst the youth,
scattering and dissolving; while it spurred on the nobler to those
Verbindungs out of which, at a later period, went forth hosts to do
battle for the liberation of the nation from a foreign yoke. After the
rising of the nation and its consequence--victory over the foe,--as all
hearts felt themselves elevated, all exertions felt themselves refined,
the new form of the time stood forth in the yet pure aims of the
Burschenschaft, which at the time when the Tugend-bund extended itself,
constituted, on its first appearance, a continuation of the
brotherhood-in-arms, the Waffengenossenschaft, which with the student
youth returning from the war, had this object,--to purify academical
life from its dross, and to present it as an image of the union and
ennobling of all the German races. Hereupon followed the period of
undeceiving, of counteraction, of degeneracy, which run into so
unrestrained a career, that to the wise and prudent, the beautiful time
of enthusiasm, appeared as the dream and frenzy of good-natured fools.
As the youth would not abandon the objects of their endeavours, whether
rational or chimerical, but, on the contrary, held them equally fast as
something great and noble, a portion of them fell a secure prey to the
unquiet, the revolutionists and political intriguers, who abused their
inexperience, and poisoned their noble endeavours by infusing a
resistance to public order. The teachers of the universities were
blamed by many, as though they were chargeable with being concerned in
these aberrations of the youth, or, at least, were so far culpable that
they had not prevented them.

So far as a direct participation of the teachers in these political
disturbances is concerned, we may be well assured that, if only a
single professor had at any time been an accomplice, or indeed only a
concealer and protector, of the guilty, the exact, the strict, and in
many places for years protracted inquiries, would to a certainty have
come upon the trace of their crimes, and the guilty would have been
conducted from the professorial chair to the dungeon. There remains
only the question, whether they, though taking no part in the views and
proceedings of the young people, were yet aware of them, and took no
steps to prevent them. But were the youths who fell under the power of
the law, the only ones who trod the same dangerous path? Were there not
amongst the others, some, perhaps even as many, who, through the
warnings and exhortations, or through the moral influence of
distinguished teachers; and, in short, through the better spirit which
every well conducted university developes amongst the nobler part of
the youth, were preserved from that mischief? But, so far as the
actually implicated students were concerned, the professors were in the
same case with the Boards, expressly organized for the watching over
the youth, and the matter was quite unknown to them, since the youths
who were mutually pledged to that object, concealed it from the eyes of
the professors just as scrupulously as from those of the university
Commission of inquiry, and the Boards of police. But to the liberation
of Germany from the dominion of Napoleon, the High-schools contributed
no little. Joyfully their scholars gave themselves up to death, and
scholars and teachers roused the nations to bravery through inspiriting
songs; of which the names of Arndt, Schenkendorf, Körner, Hauff,
Follen, Voss, Stolberg, Scharnhorst, and Haupt, stand as glorious
testimonies.

Yet once more the youth wandered from their laudable endeavours in the
years 1830-33, and one portion of them although a small one, suffered
themselves to become the work-tools of political fanaticism. The
revolution in Poland, and the unhappy fate of that country, had made a
vivid impression on their minds. Demagogic agitators again were busy in
secret; private Verbindungs were formed; the catastrophe of the French
Revolution of July occurred, and flung the firebrand into the powder
magazine. People thought they must follow the example of France, and
began loudly, with writing and by speech, to attack the governments and
to abuse the princes. But the youth who attached themselves to these
agitators, were no longer the old Burschenschaft, who steadfast to
their one idea,--"One Fatherland, which should declare itself the
worthy antagonist of the arch-enemy France; one church, and freedom,"
fought out this with word and deed: no, the modern Burschenschaft, an
abused work-tool of a greater party, had sworn death to the hereditary
princes, and did not shrink, as a means of achieving such an object, to
offer the hand even to the old enemy, to France itself. They would dare
the highest extremes; and, allured by the apparent quietness of the
government, the assembly at Hambach, which has become so widely
celebrated, was held in 1833, where the French colours, and the
tri-colour of the Burschenschaft, fluttered from the same staff. There,
death to the princes was sworn, and within a short time revolutionary
movements broke out in all parts of Germany. A number of the academic
youth plunged themselves into misfortune through the attempt at
Frankfort, since the governments now found it necessary to exercise
stringent measures with all their power, and all partisans of such
demagogue Verbindungs were quickly either arrested, or, having been
timely warned, fled.

It may well be supposed that from this time forward, a much stricter
eye was kept upon every sort of Verbindung of the students. No
Landsmannschaft dare lift its head, and the academical liberty was in
many particulars restricted. Another injurious effect also became
apparent. Many states, more particularly Prussia and Russia, forbade
their subjects to frequent any but their own universities, and no
university felt the loss occasioned by this order more than Heidelberg,
where the attendance of Prussian subjects has only again been recently
permitted.

Yet, after all, only a small portion of the student youth, suffered
themselves to be carried away by these imprudences; and what might be
the reacting effect of these lamentable occurrences, the reflection of
the students on themselves and on their calling, on what became them
and was for their real advantage, further strengthened and quickened by
the seriousness with which the governments pursued the guilty, produced
in them a greater exactness, and gave thereby a higher moral firmness
to the academical life, so that far from being represented as a sink of
wickedness, as some people believe it, it may much more justly be
regarded now as a fruitful, purified, well-drained, and well-sown,
field. The channels, constructed to lay dry the boggy places, are
cleared; the unsound spots are probed and made good; and if the
watchful superintendence of circumspect and well-disposed Boards, and
the professional faithfulness of the majority of the academical
teachers continue what they are, this corn-field of our future will yet
bear continually more beautiful and affluent harvests.




                             CHAPTER XXVI.

                A PARTING GLANCE AT OTHER UNIVERSITIES:
                          GERMAN AND FOREIGN.


We have in conclusion, only to say a few words of comparison between
the university of Heidelberg and the other German universities; and
between these generally and those of other countries.

In the description of a German university, we have always had that of
Heidelberg in our eye, touching only occasionally one or another of the
other German universities. The institutions of these are essentially
alike, yet each one has its own peculiarities; and this is not to be
wondered at, when one reflects how many influences determine the course
of the developement of a High-school. It shapes itself on the
circumstances of the times, according to the will of the Princes under
whose protection it stands; according to surrounding causes, in respect
to nature and art; and more than all, according to the spirit and
character of the teachers. To take a comparative review of these
peculiarities of the other universities of Germany would be highly
interesting; but when we reflect that in such a course all alleged
influences must be carefully weighed; and, in fact, that not merely the
present but all the past fortunes of the High-schools must be brought
under the eye, it will at once be seen that so wide a scope of
observation does not belong to this work. We can as little go into the
narrative of the foreign universities; because personal inspection is
wanting to us, and because we can give little faith to the statements
of foreigners--statements which often contradict each other, and for
the most part are as little worthy of credence, as those fabulous
accounts of German universities which have been circulated abroad The
last few years have brought us intelligence of the English
universities, which represents them as the nurseries of all that is
mischievous and corrupt, and which paints them in colours as repellant
as, at the same time, have been daubed over the caricatures of German
universities there. The false representations which foreigners, who, in
fact, have lived for some years at a German High-school, have made of
the diligence and moral condition of the same, warn us not to pronounce
a similar opinion on academical institutions which we have not seen
with our own eyes. We will only here devote a few lines to some
advantages which our institutions appear to us to possess over those of
England.

The great wheel of the mechanism of a German university is, next to the
payment for the lectures, the division of the teachers into ordinary
and extraordinary professors, and private teachers. Through the income
appointed by the government, the professor is not dependent on his
hearers, and is not tempted to care more for his income than for
science. The first duty of a professor is towards science; not towards
the students. That is the principle of all genuine university
professors; and in this exactly differs the university essentially from
the Gymnasium. The state must secure a moderate income to the
professor, independent of the number of his hearers; since a lecture
which has only seven or eight attendants may be of incalculable benefit
to science; as for instance, those on the higher analysis, or the
higher philology. A great mathematician ought not, in order to acquire
emolument merely, waste his time in teaching the inferior branches of
his science. But on the other hand, the state is not bound to give to
every individual a scientific education gratuitously, and to its own
ruin; and it would be unjust to extract money from the pockets of all
citizens for the benefit of only a very small number. A suitable and
secure income, which furnishes a professor with what is necessary and
with leisure; and paid lectures, which in proportion to his success
shall better his condition,--these, in this respect, constitute the
true means; since a professor should never forget the higher interests
of science, nor in the brilliant lustre of a transcendent genius
content himself with only a certain degree of success, and only a
moderate number of hearers. There is also this advantage to be added,
that the students frequent with more zeal and perseverance the lectures
for which they pay.

What happens in these respects in France is exactly the contrary. In
the French faculties of language and science, the doors are thrown
open, and every man can enter without paying. This at the first view
appears excellent, and worthy of a great nation. But what is really the
consequence? That an audience is like the pit of a theatre; one goes
in, and then goes out again, in the midst of the lecture; another comes
once, and then comes no more if the professor does not tickle his ear.
The attendants listen with distracted attention, and in general you see
more amateurs than students. The professor who does not lose a _sous_,
let him do his work as ill as possible, either neglects it, and expends
little trouble or talent on his lectures, or loving fame, anxious for
his reputation, and yet despairing to win a serious audience, labours
at least to assemble a numerous one. In this case there is an end to
science; for in order to make it attractive, he must sink himself to
the level of his hearers.

There lies in this great number of attendants an almost magnetic
influence, which bows to its yoke even the strongest minds; and he who
would be an earnest and admirable professor for attentive students,
becomes for frivolous, airy, and superficial hearers, light and
superficial himself. In fine, what remains to the multitude of that
instruction to which they have given a gratuitous attendance?--a
confused impression, just about as profitable as that which an
interesting drama in the theatre would have left behind.

But is this to be compared for a moment with the persevering zeal of
fifty or a hundred hearers even, who have paid beforehand for the
lectures; who follow their progression obstinately, in order to sift
them, and to give themselves an account of them, without which they
have thrown away both their time and money. Thus excellent is the
arrangement that the student shall pay something, and at the same time
the state shall guarantee to the distinguished and learned men who are
chosen as professors, a secure and fitting support.

The three degrees of teachers at the High-schools of Germany are in the
happiest manner divided from each other, and yet bound together. The
foundation, the root of the professorship, the inexhaustible and
everspringing nursery of the German university, are the young doctors,
to whom it is allowed, under certain conditions, and with the
permission of the faculties, to deliver public lectures. Every able
young man may thus arrive at the higher offices of teaching, but none
without raising, at least good expectations. He is tried, but without
entering into any actual engagement with him; without any thing being
promised to him, or given him. If he does not by correspondent results,
realize the hopes which have been entertained of him; if he fails to
attract hearers, and to do honour to the faculty which admitted him; it
is seen that a vain anticipation has been attached to him, and he is
not raised to the rank of extraordinary professor. He himself, after
some years, withdraws himself from the hopeless pursuit, which brings
him few hearers and little profit, and betakes himself to some other
career. On the contrary, if he fulfil the hopes raised by him; if he
gather numerous hearers, and write works which excite attention; he is
then declared Extraordinary professor, a title which is irrevocable,
and which gives him a small fixed salary, which, with the income
derived from his hearers, encourages him, and supports him in his
career. If he maintain this happy progress, if he prove himself an able
man, the state, in order to retain him, increases by degrees his
income, and finally names him Ordinary professor.

This distinguished title is never given on account of hopes: which may
be found false by experience, but on account of tried effects, of
distinguished talents, and established reputation. It is very rare that
this title is received before a certain age; and there is not a
professor in Germany, who is not a man of a reputation more or less
distinguished, since this position is entirely the reward of his
talents. Great and successful results, be they in writing or lecturing,
these in Germany nominate the Ordinary professor, and an unlimited
choice is afforded in the multitude of young teachers. Talent, with the
aid of time and perseverance, wins the prize, and that is the genuine
and proper contest. As age and time dull the zeal and diminish ability,
and the professor now grown old, neglects or does not advance with the
advances of science; an innovator in his youth, does he now become a
loiterer, what is to be done? His hearers, ever attracted by the spirit
of the time, desert his lectures; and seek those of an Extraordinary
professor, or perhaps those of a private teacher--young and zealous,
and often to excess, fond of innovation and bold inquiry; and the
university suffers not through the retreat of those, who formerly
served it faithfully and well. This happy mechanism rests on the
distinction into extraordinary and ordinary professors, and private
teachers; which in France correspond with the titulaires, adjoints, and
agregés.

Let us now only reflect how different altogether is the practice in
France. A man is put in the list of competitors for a few weeks,
amongst such young people as frequently have not written two lines;
have taught scarcely a single year; and now, after giving in some
stated proof, are often in their twenty-fifth year endowed with an
irrevocable title, which may be held till their seventieth year without
doing any thing; which, from the first day of their nomination to the
end of their life, draws the same salary, whether they have many
hearers or few; whether they distinguish themselves or not; whether
they thenceforward live in ignorance, or become celebrated men!

Another great disadvantage in France is, that in this country the
different faculties of which a German university is composed, are
separated from each other, scattered about, and in this isolation
are as it were, lost. Here are faculties of science, in which lectures
upon chemistry, physics, and natural history, are held, without a
medicinal faculty at their side, which might thence derive benefit;
there--faculties of law, and of theology, without history, literature,
and philosophy. So are there perhaps twenty miserable faculties
scattered over the whole surface of France, and nowhere a genuine home
for science. Thence comes it, that in France study is for the most part
so unphilosophically pursued; although able professional men are
accomplished in jurisprudence and medicine, the studies which are there
the most in esteem.

We leave it to the English reader, who is better acquainted with the
universities of his native land, than we are--to decide, how far the
deficiencies here attributed to the French universities also affect
those of Britain. Oxford and Cambridge, the two most ancient
universities of England, have remained true to the old institutions, to
the old mode of living altogether in colleges, which the German public
has long abandoned as not answering the purpose. They have a greater
self-dependence and independence than the German ones, which are
submitted to the superintendence of the state. Yet the German
institutions in this respect reap many advantages, so long as the
government is no despotism. Through such high-standing Boards, boards
which respect the interests and claims of all parties, and administer
to them all justice with strict impartiality, the chairs of science are
preserved from incapacity; the meritorious are made known and elevated;
obstructions are removed; help is duly administered, morals are
protected, defects are remedied, better and more effectually than can
be done by a corporation alone, and without such a well-disposed and
wise superintendence of their interests; and which places the
university in a condition to exercise a fresher and more unimpaired
strength in the great pursuit of science and of accomplishment, and
with more decisive effect; and to remain mistress of the great movement
of inquiry and of knowledge.

That the advantages of the German High-schools are, however,
acknowledged in England, is proved by the foundation of the liberal
University in London in the year 1825, wherein they have sought to
combine many of the German plans, whose value was recognised, with the
old English ones. But yet more than by this fact, is paid the tribute
of recognition of the excellence of the German High-schools, by the
great number of young men who, not alone from the European countries,
but from distant regions of the earth, hasten to place themselves at
the feet of their teachers.

No country has so many and such excellent universities as
Germany,--and the proofs of their advantages exist in the great number
of illustrious learned men and authors, which quench their thirst of
knowledge at these immortal wells of science; men, whose creations
daily more and more receive abroad their just recognition, and in no
country more than in England.




                                  THE

                  GENERAL BEER-COMMENT OF HEIDELBERG.


         Many a one is a more true Diogenes, not when he is in
                  the tub, but when the tub is in him.


                               TITULUS I.

       DIVISION OF THE STUDENTS AS IT REGARDS THE BEER COMMENT.

§ 1. All Students are divided into Crass Foxes (or Fat Foxes), Brand
Foxes, and Beer-Burschen.

2. Every student, during the first course of his academical career, is
a Fat Fox.

3. He becomes a Brand-Fox when he is burnt at one of the regular kneips
of the respective Chores, with the proper solemnities; yet this shall
not occur before the Farewell Commers of his first, nor later than four
weeks after the entrance Commers of his second, semester.

4. The Brand-Fox becomes a Beer-Bursch, if he be _pawked_ in
(initiated), at the end of his second course, but after the Farewell
Commers, or at the commencement of his third course; this, however,
shall only be done in beer.

5. Comes one here who has already studied two semesters at another
known university, he must at the commencement of his third semester be
here _pawked_ in, or otherwise, till he be pawked in, he can only, as
it regards the Beer-companies, be considered as a Brander.

6. Every one who has studied three semesters at another known
university, has on that account the rights of a Beer-bursch.

7. A Fox who is the Chore-bursch of an existing verbindung or union,
has the rights of a Beer-bursch, yet must he suffer himself to be
_pawked_ in as a Beer-bursch.

8. The following is the mode of pawking in. At one of the appointed
kneips of the respective Chore, the in-pawking Beer-bursch drinks to
the in-to-be-pawked at least half a choppin of beer, after the singing
of every strophe of a song then sung, and the in-to-be-pawked must _a
tempo_ drink as much. Moreover, it is well understood that the
in-to-be-pawked pays for the beer of the in-pawker which is thus drunk.


                              TITULUS II.

                    OF THE FORE AND AFTER DRINKING.

§ 9. From the Foxes, whether Crass or Brand Foxes, the Beer-bursch is
not bound to take a beer challenge; yet can the Brand-fox _nachstürzen_
(that is, command the person who is going to drink before him, to drink
twice the quantity that he proposes). Amongst themselves the Foxes have
equal rights.

10. No one must accept a challenge of less than half a choppin, or more
than four choppins at once. The graduated quantities of the Comment,
are a half, a whole, two, three, and four choppins.

11. The interval between the fore and after drinking of each
agreed-upon quantity must be no more than five minutes (that is, the
accepter must drink his quantity within five minutes after the
challenger). And every earlier challenge must be drunk before the
latter one.

12. If four choppins are agreed upon, so must the foreswearer or
challenger, drink each choppin separately within five minutes of each
other; and not till he has drunk these four choppins, must he take a
challenge from another person. Also, the challenger must have first
drunk his whole contracted quantity before his antagonist is bound to
drink his.

13. He who has a challenge of four choppins on his hands, is not bound
to take another challenge till that is drunk out.

14. If a challenge is made, and the challenged excuses himself on the
plea that he has already four choppins to drink, the challenger is
justified in obliging the challenged to show him each of those four
allege choppins as he drinks them.

15. If a challenge is given, and the challenged _nachstürz_, the
quantity, (that is, insists that it shall be doubled,) the challenger
is obliged to drink the doubled quantity.

16. The challenged may not more than double the quantity proposed by
the challenger.

17. The _nachstürz_ become invalid the moment the prescribed quantity
exceeds two choppins, except in a challenge _à faire_.

18. If one pauses during the drinking, leaves a Philistine in the
glass, (that is, if he leaves the bottom of the glass still covered
with beer,) it is to be considered that he has not drunken his
quantity, and he must instantly drink another in the proper manner.

19. The case is the same when an umpire declares that so much beer has
been spilt in the drinking as would cover the bottom of the glass.

20. In every quantity which is drunk in successive portions, the §§ 18
and 19 shall apply to the party whom the umpire shall have declared to
have drunken informally.

21. As well in the fore as the after drinking, the antagonist can
select an umpire, who, if he judges that the fore or after quantity is
deficient, must see that it is made complete, and that it is properly
drunken.

22. No one is bound to accept a challenge of more than one choppin at a
time out of a vessel which will hold more; unless the two drinkers
agree differently between themselves.


                              TITULUS III.

  OF ANSCHISS-SAUFEN; OR DEFINING OF WHAT ARE PENAL CASES IN DRINKING.

§ 23. Foxes, whether Crass or Brand Foxes, may neither _touche_ an
honourable Beer-bursch in beer, that is, challenge him to a beer
contest; nor, if he be challenged by an honourable Beer-bursch, may he
_nachstürz_, or double the quantity. If one of them does this, then
must he be _verdonnert_,[50] or condemned in thunder, to pay for a
_viertel_, that is, sixteen choppins. The Foxes have also here equal
rights amongst themselves.

24. The degrees of the beer challenges are the following:--A Learned
Man stands for a half-choppin; a choppin is a Doctor; two choppins, a
Professor; three choppins, an Amtmann; four choppins, a Pope.

25. If any one has given his cerevis, that is, made an assertion on his
beer-word against another, and it cannot be proved who has given his
cerevis wrong, so must the two drink out a Learned Man--such cases,
however, excepted as are before the Beer-court.

26. No one is bound to accept _ex abrupto_ more than a _Learned Man_;
yet must the Foxes accept, _ex abrupto_ every challenged _Doctor_, from
an honourable Beer-bursch.

27. The provoker to a beer-challenge must be challenged within five
minutes. If he will double on the challenge, he must do it immediately,
and according to the fixed gradations of §24.

The settling of the challenge must be completed within five minutes
after the challenge is given; and the drink-duel must be immediately
contested, if the challenged has not yet an older scandal[51] to
defend.

28. Every earlier scandal must take precedence of a later. If any one
asserts that he has yet an earlier scandal, he must name the person
with whom it depends. The antagonist has a right to name an umpire, who
must take care that the scandal is effaced in its regular order, or
otherwise the umpire must write the name of the first on the beer-table
with the penalty belonging to the offence.

29. The proceeding in fighting out a scandal is as follows:--Each
pawkant or combatant appoints a second, of whom the seconder of the
challenger, on his cerevis, makes the weapons equal. If the weapons,
however, appear unequal to the other second, he can call an umpire, who
decides whether they are equal or not. If the umpire declares that the
weapons are not equal, he who calls the umpire, has, after the scandal
is fought out, to propose the proper penalty for the second who failed
to make the weapons equal, according to § 131, No. 11 (a).

30. At the place of the challenged the weapons are made equal, and the
beer-scandal is there fought out.

31. If the weapons are equal, the second of the challenged gives the
following commando, "Seize it! put to! loose!"

32. Before this commando, the drinking must not begin; and should it
begin, either of the seconds must cry halt, and the weapons must be
again made equal. But halt cannot be cried after the word "loose" is
given.

33. Both parties must drink instantly on the command being given,
whereupon the commanding second, after both have drunk, first declares
his judgment, and then the other second either admits this judgment or
not. If the latter be the case, so the seconds themselves must drink
off a Learned Man, be the quantity what it may for which they stood
seconds, except in the cases stated in §§ 34 and 35.

34. Drinks not one of the two combatants on the given commando, the
prescribed quantity, or bleeds he, or pauses during the drinking, or
leaves a Philistine in the glass; so is he a defaulter, and must,
within five minutes, drink once more the prescribed quantity. If he do
this not, he is put under the beer-bann, and the quantity which he has
failed to drink is written on the beer-tablet against him.

35. He is equally a defaulter if he breaks his glass in setting it
down, or overturns it, except, in the last case, he can set it up again
before his antagonist is ready.

36. Every one must second the moment he is called upon to do so; yet if
one second be a Beer-bursch, he is not obliged to accept a Fox as his
opposite second. If any one refuses, without a sufficient ground of
excuse, to become a second, he is to pay the penalty of a viertel.

37. The parties concerned in a beer-scandal, must, neither with one
another, nor with others, engage in a fresh scandal, neither can others
engage them in such. But should this happen, the provoker must
immediately revoke, or be condemned to a viertel.

38. The beer-scandal arising between seconds, as in § 33, is to be
fought out in manner following: The second who declared himself first,
names his umpire, before whom the scandal is to be fought out, and
through whose declaration it is to be concluded.


                              TITULUS IV.

                         OF ENGAGEMENT À FAIRE.

§ 39. The engagement _à faire_ is the contract between two to measure
themselves in beer drinking.

40. Those who will make an engagement _à faire_, must let this be
proclaimed clearly three times by a beer-honourable Beer-bursch;
whereupon all who are already concerned with these parties in a
beer-scandal, may state their claims, so that they may fight out their
scandals with them before this new engagement comes on.

41. Both combatants must, at least, empty one choppin in every five
minutes, or be the quantity greater they must still do the same.

42. Neither of these combatants may accept any thing from a third, nor
fore-drink to him; neither may they provoke to a fresh scandal or be
provoked to it. Those who do, fall under the penalty of a viertel.

43. They may not officiate in beer-affairs; nor be seconds, witness,
nor umpires; nor sit in the Beer-comments, nor convoke, or cause such
to be convoked; they may not aid in removing the beer-bann, or drink
with him from whom it is to be removed, otherwise they are condemned to
a viertel.

44. This Beer-strife is ended by one or the other declaring that he can
drink no more, but not by agreement to drink no more. He that yields
must quit the kneip within five minutes, or will be condemned to two
viertel. Besides this, he is regarded as under the bann for the rest of
the day; but during the five minutes that he stays, he is not obliged
to accept any fresh challenge.

45. The conclusion of the Beer-strife shall in the same manner as its
commencement, be loudly proclaimed by a beer-honourable Beer-bursch.


                               TITULUS V.

                          OF THE DECLARATION.

§ 46. If any one has no desire to either fore or after drink, or to
concern himself in beer-suits, he must cause this to be declared by a
beer-honourable Beer-bursch. If from the beginning he drinks no beer at
the kneip, he need not declare himself.

47. He who receives this declaration is bound to proclaim it aloud.

48. The declared may not be challenged in beer. Should this happen, the
challenger must instantly revoke, or he will be condemned in a viertel.
If the declarer challenges, he falls under the same penalty.

49. If any one has already drunken beer in the kneip, and then says,
without having declared himself, that he goes away, he must not accept
a challenge. But if he remains in the kneip five minutes after this
declaration of going away, then every one can fore-drink him; and in so
far as he does not after-drink according to the regulations, he may be
mulct.

50. Each declaration can then only be accepted, when the declarer has
drunk out all his contracted quantities, and all scandals in which he
has been engaged have been fought out.

51. He who in the commencement of a kneip declares that he is unwell,
is for the evening declared, but he cannot during that evening take
back his declaration.

52. If a declarer appears before the Beer-convention as a complainant,
he must bring two witnesses.

53. The declaration is removed:--

   (1) Through fore or after drinking of any quantity, even should
the declarer use the proviso, "without prejudice to my declaration."

   (2) By making a counter declaration.

   (3) By the declarer mixing himself in beer-suits.

54. They mix themselves in beer-suits, who--

   (1) Demand or give the cerevis.

   (2) Sit in a Beer-convention; witness, call a Beer-convention, or
cause it to be called.

   (3) Is an umpire, a second in a Beer-scandal, or drinks with him who
is to be released from the bann.

   (4) Who challenges in beer.

   (5) Who engages himself with another _à faire_.


                              TITULUS VI.

                            OF THE UMPIRES.

§ 55. A beer-honourable Beer-bursch only can be an umpire.

56. Every one must obey the call to be an umpire, unless he can advance
some available excuse. If, without being able to do this, he declares,
he must be mulct in a viertel.

57. If a Fox accepts the office of an umpire, he falls under the
penalty of a viertel.

58. The umpire may stand with none of the parties in a beer-scandal;
but should this be the fact, the case cannot stand over, but another
umpire must be called.

59. When an umpire is called forth, he cannot be challenged of any one:
the offender in this case is punishable with a viertel.

60. If any one holds the judgment of an umpire to be unjust, he is at
liberty to summon him before a Beer-convention; but this must be done
before the quantity which has been made equal by the umpire, is
drunken.

61. The umpire can always be called before the Beer-convention, on
account of his decisions, except when he pronounces the penalty
incurred in the act of releasing one from the bann, or upon him who
drinks with him; in which case the condemned person cannot appeal to a
General Beer-convention.

62. If the decision of the umpire is declared unjust by the
Beer-convention, he goes into Beer-banishment; but if that be not
the case his accuser is without further procedure condemned to
Beer-banishment.


                              TITULUS VII.

                        OF THE BEER-CONVENTIONS.

                         (_a_) OF THE SPECIAL.

§ 63. The Beer-convention is that competent Board which is called
by a beer-honourable Beer-bursch, in order to decide upon a fact
before it, of a nature to be punished by a beer-penalty, or on other
beer-business. It consists of three Beer-honourable beer-burschen.

64. A Fox may not sit in a Beer-convention; if he dares to do that, he
is to be be-thundered in a viertel. He falls under the same penalty if
he calls a Beer-convention.

65. So soon as a Beer-convention is called, the functionaries and all
parties concerned must neither _touche_, _foreswear_, nor fore nor
after drink so long as the business lasts. As little may this be done
by another person towards them. Whoever violates this rule is regarded
as a disturber of the convention.

66. The Beer-convention being called, is conducted as follows. The
beer-judge summons the accused; the accuser then lays the case before
the court, which he confirms on his cerevis, which the convention
demands from him, and makes his petition. Hereupon he names his
witness, who is questioned on the alleged fact, and his cerevis also
taken upon it.

67. The accused is now required to bring forward his defence; whereupon
the convention also demands his cerevis, and his witness is heard, also
on his cerevis.

68. Accuser and accused, as well as every one of the judges, have the
right to demand that the witnesses of both parties state the facts upon
which they give their cerevis, fully.

69. When the two parties, with their witnesses, have been heard in this
manner, the beer-judge demands whether either party has yet any thing
further to advance. If this is not the case, the minutes are closed,
and the judge immediately pronounces his judgment.

70. The beer-judges give their judgments in the same order of
succession in which they were called to be judges by the accuser. The
last-voting judge must, on a penalty of a viertel, within five minutes
after the closing of the minutes, write on the beer-table the name of
the be-thundered, or appellant.

71. The agreeing judgments of two beer-judges constitute a sentence,
with the exception of the cases in §§ 81 and 84.

72. No beer-judge is allowed to state publicly the grounds of his
judgment, when he gives that judgment.

73. No beer-judge may give his vote before the examination is
concluded, and the minutes closed. If he fails in this respect, either
of the parties can expel him from the Beer-convent. In this case,
the accuser has to call another judge. The same is the case when a
beer-judge closes the minutes before the examination is complete. If
the case is disputable, the party who has the right to expel, may call
an umpire, who shall decide.

74. If the Beer-convention has cited the accused, and he omits to
appear and make his defence, he is, on that account, held to be
convicted.

75. No one can refuse to be a beer-judge because he would act as
witness to the accused; but the accused can object to a judge, in case
he takes the office, being received as his witness, but this, at the
latest, must be done before the examination of the witness of the
accuser had been heard, upon which the accuser must choose another
judge.

76. The accuser must put in his petition before his witness is heard. A
petition once put in, cannot be changed. If the accuser puts in a false
one, or none at all, the case will be decided in favour of the accused.

77. Every accusation must be confirmed by the witness or the
beer-tablet. If this is not the case, the accusation is nullified, and
the accuser is nonsuited.

78. If the assertions of both parties are positive, the judge must
decide in favour of the accused.

79. An assertion is negatived when it totally contradicts the fact of
the opponent without supplying another fact, which supersedes the first
fact.

80. Every beer-honourable student, be he Fox or Beer-bursch, can appear
as witness before a Beer-convention.

81. A witness becomes amenable to punishment by giving false evidence
on his cerevis. Whether he has given a false cerevis remains for the
Beer-convent to decide, before which he has appeared as witness,
which, without further proceeding, can immediately be-thunder him as
beer-banned, and mulct in a viertel; but this requires that all the
Beer-judges shall be unanimous.

82. Each party may only call three witnesses in succession. If none of
these speak out satisfactorily, it is to be held that he has no
witness. For the rest, neither party can present more than one
sufficient witness in support of its assertion.

83. Such witnesses as were not present at the fact on which the
Beer-convention has to decide, are held as false witnesses.

84. Intruding witnesses; that is, such as without being called by name
as witnesses by the parties, offer themselves as witnesses, shall not
be accepted, and are to be punished with the beer-bann. The judges
must, however, be unanimous on this head.

85. A beer-judge having once given his vote cannot recall it.

86. No beer-judge can, during the proceedings, speak to any of the
parties concerned, out of the regular course of inquiry. He who does
this is punishable with a viertel.

87. In no case is any one allowed to disturb the proceedings. He who
does this for a fourth time, having thrice been ordered to be quiet, is
to be be-thundered by the same Beer-convention to the Beer-bann, and
penalty of a viertel without further delay. The beer-judges must,
however, be unanimous.

88. When a punishable fact is not laid before a Beer-convention within
three days, it cannot be laid at all, unless the actual absence of
accuser or accused creates sufficient hindrance. But a cerevis given
for a future day, or which requires time to prove whether it may not be
false, forms an exception. Farther, a cerevis given for a future day is
not nullified by a Beer-bann falling between that time and the time for
which it is given.

89. A Beer-convention may only be postponed three days, and only then
when the witness of the accused is absent.

90. If one is accused on account of a quantity not drunken at the right
time, or not drunken at all, the said quantity is to be added to the
penalty in his be-thundering.

91. If a quantity has been fore-drunken to the be-thundered, before the
commencement of the Beer-convention, which he has not after-drunken,
then must they who have fore-drunken this quantity on his be-thundering
show this same quantity to the Beer-convention, corroborating their
assertion with their cerevis and a witness, whereupon also this must be
added to his Beer-penalty.

92. The same is the case when he has contracted a beer-scandal with any
one before the Beer-convent sate, and has not fought it out: but the
latter party with whom he has made this contract, must drink the
prescribed quantity before the Beer-convent.

93. Not more than one Beer-convent can be called over one and the same
person on account of the same fact, except if a Beer-convention is
postponed; or a Beer-convention being called, is rendered null by a
Fox, or one under Beer-bann having been called upon it, and in it
having sat.

94. A Fox may neither for himself nor for another call a Beer-convent,
but he must procure this to be done through a beer-honourable
Beer-bursch. The last can, however, call himself as one, in case other
beer-honourable Beer-burschen are wanting for the Beer-convention.

95. Only one Beer-convention may be called at the same time in the same
kneip.

                 (_b_) OF THE GENERAL BEER-CONVENTION.

96. The general Beer-convention, which must consist at least of five
Chore Burschen, is the highest and last Court of Appeal; and therefore
its decision is final and unalterable.

97. Every Saturday evening, at an hour fixed in the beginning of each
course, is the General Beer-convention held, to which every Verbindung
then existing in Heidelberg, must send a Chore-bursch, who must,
however, be a beer-honourable Beer-bursch. Should less than five Chores
exist, the S. C. must take care that still five beer-judges must sit in
the General Beer-convention.

98. These judges must assemble themselves, at the appointed hour, at
the kneip of the Secretary, under the penalty of a quarter-crown for
coming late, and of a half-crown for not coming at all. A beer-judge
comes late when he is not present on the striking of the fixed hour.

99. In case that, at the fixed hour, the Beer-judges of all the
Verbindungs are not present, five beer-judges are sufficient to open
the court and proceed to business.

100. When the required number of beer-judges are present, the
Beer-convent must be opened with the stroke of the appointed hour. If
they find no appellant, they must wait half-an-hour. If no one appears
at the expiration of this time, the judges are authorized to withdraw.

101. If, after the expiration of this half-hour, five judges agree to
wait longer, they can still represent the General Beer-convention; but
the General Convention must be closed at the end of an hour, unless
instantly occurring and pressing business make that impossible.

102. It is free to the accuser as to the accused to appeal to the
General Beer-convention, against a sentence of the Special Convention;
but this must be done within five minutes after the declaration of the
sentence, and the judges concerned must be cited at the same time. The
appeal must come on at the General Beer-convention, at the fixed place,
the next Saturday evening.

103. If the appellant exceeds this time, without being able to show
the impossibility of then proceeding with the business on which the
Beer-convention has to decide, he loses the right to appeal, and moreover,
must pay a viertel. If on the contrary, one cited to appear before the
General Beer-convention is prevented, he can, though a proxy, bring
forward his excuse; upon the acceptance of which the General
Beer-convention is to decide. If it finds the excuse satisfactory, the
business stands over to the next General Beer-convention.

104. An appeal to the General Beer-convention can indeed be revoked,
but this must be done within five minutes after declaring an intention
to appeal, and, in fact, before a Beer-convention called for the
purpose. If it he revoked later, the revoker must pay a viertel.

105. He is excluded from the right to appeal to a General Beer-convent
who has been declared to be a false or intruding witness by a special
Beer-convention, and is, on that account, be-thundered; and so is he
also who has more than three times disturbed the proceedings of the
Special Beer-convention.

106. The proceedings of the General Beer-convention in matters laid
before it, is the same as that of the Special Beer-conventions, with
the following exceptions. If the parties cited before the General
Beer-convention do not appear, nor appoint proxies, they may, after the
accuser has made his complaint, and corroborated it by witnesses, be
punished for contempt of court.

   (1) Moreover, any one who has to appear before the General
Beer-convention, must present himself before the table with uncovered
head.

   (2) No beer-judge of the General Beer-convention is bound to
take a beer-challenge from any one while he sits in the General
Beer-convention.

   (3) The General has the right to punish with the punishment, for the
disturbance of Beer-conventions, prescribed by the Comment, any one
who, during one and the same proceeding, shall have broken the silence
enjoined four times; and he who more than four times shall have broken
the same, shall, moreover, be reported to the S. C. and by it be fined
a half-crown.

107. The majority of voices decides here, as in the Special
Beer-conventions. Is the number of the represented Chores equal, the
representative of the Chore to which the secretary belongs gives the
casting vote.

108. No appellant can lay his complaint before the General, till he has
set before it a viertel; but, in case he carries his charge through, he
has the right to name one of the condemned to the General, who shall
reimburse him this viertel.

Should the accused be be-thundered, so go they every one into
Beer-banishment, and have two viertels to set forth; but that viertel
which has been reimbursed by one of them to the accuser is reckoned off.

If the appellant is cast, he is equally condemned to two viertels. But
as he has already set one viertel before the General, he is only
written down on the beer-tablet one viertel. If he was the accuser
before the Special Beer-convention, the General has to give its
commission, to wipe him out from the beer-tablet, and to write him down
as chargeable with a viertel under its order. If he was the accused, so
must he, according to the commission of the General, be wiped out of
the beer-tablet with the B. A., and with the prescribed penalty of the
Special Beer-convention, together with the new viertel, be written down
on the beer-tablet, under the order of the General.

The appointed penalties are written down in the Special Chore-kneip.

109. During the vacation, the number of five beer-honourable
Beer-burschen are authorized to represent a General Beer-convention,
without respect to Verbindungs. Such a General Beer-convention in the
vacation, must be called within eight days, or, otherwise, if no
sufficient grounds of excuse are brought forward, the sentence of the
Special Convention remains in full force; the appellant is be-thundered,
and the right to further appeal is lost.


                             TITULUS VIII.

                         OF THE BEER PENALTIES.

                               I. SIMPLE.

                        (_a_) OF THE BEER-BANN.

110. The Beer-bann is that punishment by which the beer-honourable
student, while he is be-thundered to four choppins, loses all his
beer-rights in the Special Kneip in which he stands inscribed.

111. The Beer-bann, besides the loss of all beer-rights, has also this
consequence, that the be-thundered, neither mediately nor immediately,
can bring his beer to the table where the Beer-honourable kneip. Should
he do this, every beer-honourable is at liberty to throw the beer of
the be-thundered upon the ground.

112. The beer-banned appellant, indeed, equally forfeits all
beer-rights, yet can he bring his beer to the table where the
beer-honourables kneip, and he may not be called a beerschisser, or
beer-banished-man, and can for and after drink with any beer-honourable
that he can engage to do so.

113. But on account of such quantity either for or after drunken, a
Beer-convention cannot be called by either party.

114. No beer-honourable is allowed to either fore or after drink with a
beer-banned man; does any one this, he goes into beer-banishment.

115. A beer-banished man can never be called before a Beer-convention
and be be-thundered on account of a fact which renders him liable to
beer-banishment, but only on one which renders him liable to pay a
viertel. He then renders himself liable to a viertel when he calls a
beer-honourable, or a beer-banned appellant, a beerschisser.

116. If any one perpetrates an act against a beerschisser, which
renders him liable to a setting forth of a viertel, the beerschisser
can call this person before the Beer-convention, but he must do it
through a beer-honourable Beer-bursch, and lay his complaint through
the same, strengthening also his accusation by two beer-honourable
cerevises.

117. A term of eight days is appointed to the beerschisser (the
beer-banned) from the day of his be-thundering, during which time he
must cause himself to be fought-out in the following manner. If he
exceeds this term, and that without special grounds of excuse, as sickness
or absence, he is be-thundered in two viertels; which penalty, from eight
days to eight days, if he does not fight himself out, is doubled.

118. The fighting cutis in this manner. The beerschisser, who will
fight himself out, requests a beer-honourable Beer-bursch to call his
name out in the kneip on whose beer-tablet he stands inscribed; but
this can only be done in the presence of three beer-honourable
Beer-burschen. The out-fighter must at every one of the four choppins,
three times slowly and formally demand who will drink them with the
beerschisser. The fighter-out is not an umpire. If any one is not
satisfied with the proceedings of the fighter-out, this last must name
an umpire.

119. The beerschisser must from five minutes to five minutes drink each
of the choppins.

120. If any one announces that he will drink a choppin with the
beerschisser, this person must name an umpire, who must make the
weapons equal, and who, as in a Beer-scandal, has to command.

Each one to be fought-out has at least two choppins to drink.

If two out of the whole four choppins are not yet accepted the
fighter-out has to drink out the remaining quantity with the
to-be-fought-out person, in the regular time, and in the presence of an
umpire.

121. He who, as umpire, has commanded during the last choppin which the
beerschisser, as such, drinks, must immediately proclaim him three
times loudly and formally in the kneip as beer-honourable.

In case the beerschisser has already drunk two choppins, and no one
announces himself for the fourth, the fighter-out has this duty to
perform.

The order must, at the same time, be given, and where it is possible,
to a Fox, to wipe the beerschisser from the beer-tablet.

If the umpire proclaims the out-to-be-fought as beer-honourable too
early, or too late, he himself goes into beer-banishment.

122. Both parties must drink at once, on the word of command. If the
beerschisser does this not, he is be-thundered to a viertel; if the
other, who, according to the declaration of the fighter-out, has to
drink with the beerschisser, drinks not at the same time, he goes into
beer-banishment.

123. If the beerschisser does not drink, after the command is given,
his choppin in the five minutes, he continues a beerschisser, and the
choppin not drunken by him is written on the beer-tablet in addition.

124. In all these cases the commanding umpire has the right to
pronounce the penalty on the defaulters, without further proceeding,
and cause them to be written on the beer-tablet, nor can he for this be
called to account.

125. If one has been be-thundered on account of an unperformed quantity
of fore or after drinking, he must drink the quantity still due,
from five minutes to five minutes, after he has again been declared
beer-honourable.

126. This must be done before those whom he has to drink after; or,
should they be absent, before two beer-honourable witnesses.

127. The beerschisser has all the choppins that have been drunken with
him during the fighting-out by the out-fighters immediately to pay for.

128. If the beerschisser has requested any one to call on him to be
fought-out, he cannot again revoke the call; if he does this, he is
mulct in a viertel.

129. The beerschisser has the right, during the pawking, or
fighting-out, to have the beer necessary for the out-pawking upon the
table at which the beer-honourables kneip.

130. Only one beerschisser can be pawked-out at one time.

131. He goes into beer-banishment--

   (1) Who gives a false cerevis.

   (2) Who offends against § 34.

   (3) Who permits a beer-touche, or provocation, to stand against him
beyond the regular time, and neither challenges, fixes the time, nor
fights out, without having any sufficient ground of excuse to give. The
sufficient grounds are--

   (_a_) Older scandals, but not fore or after drinking quantities.

   (_b_) If he has received no beer, spite of its having been
immediately ordered, after challenge or fixing of the time has taken
place.

   (4) Who has declared a beerschisser, either by word or deed, to be
beer-honourable. This happens through--

   (_a_) He who contracts a scandal or fights one out with a
beerschisser, and kneips with him in beer; that is,

   (a) He who fore or after drinks with a beerschisser. (§ 114).

   (_b_) He who has his beer standing on the same table with that of a
beerschisser.

   (_c_) He who plays with a beerschisser at a beer-play.

   (_d_) He who with the beerschisser pours out of the same vessel, or
drinks with him out of the same glass.

   (b) He who "catches out"[52] a beerschisser in the kneip, where the
same stands inscribed as beerschisser on the beer-tablet.

   (c) He who calls a Beer-convention upon a case against a
beerschisser, which does not render him liable to a penalty of a
viertel. (§ 115).

   (d) He who submits to the same a beer-case for decision, or calls
him as witness.

   (e) He who too early proclaims the fought-out, beer-honourable.
(§ 121).

   (5) He who too late declares the fought-out, beer-honourable.
(§ 121).

   (6) He who calls a beer-honourable, or a beer-banned-appellant, a
beerschisser.

   (7) He who does not set out the appointed quantity within eight days.

   (8) He who in pawking-out a beerschisser commands on a bad choppin.

   (9) He who ought to drink with a beerschisser in his out-fighting, and
does not drink at the right time, or drink at all.

   (10) He who makes a quantity common; that is, fore or after drinks a
quantity with a third person also, which he ought to drink with one
only.

   (11) The umpire whose decision before a Beer-convention is declared to
be unjust (§ 62).

   (12) The second who has to make the weapons equal, but who, according
to the decision of a called-up umpire, has unjustly declared them to be
equal.

   (_f_) He who declares the decision of an umpire to be unjust without
being able to show that it is so.

   (13) Intruding witness. (§ 62).

   (14) He who does not call a Beer-convention on account of a fact
which is directed against himself, and which is punishable with
beer-banishment.

   (15) He who does not within five minutes drink the quantity dictated to
him by the President of the Beer-convention. (§ 146).

                      (B.) OF SETTING FORTH BEER.

§ 132. Every viertel to be set out (that is, four measures, four jugs,
or five bottles) is written down on the beer-tablet, and must within
eight days, be set before a Beer-convention. He who exceeds this term,
goes into beer-banishment. The Beer-convention which has be-thundered
him, has at the same time to give the order that he and this quantity
be wiped off the beer-tablet, and that he be written down anew under
this date.

133. The Beer-convention, and he who sets it out, have equally
participation in this beer, and should the setter-out be a Fox, he too,
who called the Beer-convention for him; but the Beer-convention can, if
it please, make this quantity over to the General company.

134. A viertel must set-out--

   (1) The Fox who _touches_, or provokes a beer-bursch to a challenge
in beer, or in a beer-challenge doubles on him. (§ 23.)

   (2) The Fox who has called a Beer-convention, or sits in one.
(§ 64.)

   (3) The Fox who becomes an Umpire. (§ 64.)

   (4) The Fox who touches the beer-cudgel of the President in a
Beer-commers.

   (5) Every one who, being called on to second, refuses without
sufficient ground. (§ 36.)

   (6) He who offends against § 37.

   (7) He who offends against §§ 42 and 43.

   (8) He who touches in beer a Declarer, and does not immediately
revoke the touche. (§ 48.)

   (9) A Declarer who touches another who has not declared. (§ 48.)

   (10) He who refuses without justifiable ground to act as umpire.
(§ 48.)

   (11) He who cribs beer in drinking, or spills the beer of another,
or fouls it.

   (12) He who forgets his Smollis.[53]

   (13) He who touches an Umpire, knowing him to be such.

   (14) He who insults or calumniates a Beer-convention.

   (15) He who declares the decision of a Beer-convention to be unjust;
but this shall not include the appeal to a General.

   (16) The Beer-judge who offends against § 34.

   (17) He who declares that he will appeal to a General, and yet does
it not on the proper day. (§ 103.)

   (18) He who has declared that he would appeal to a General, but
makes this later than five minutes after his declaration. (§ 104.)

   (19) The beerschisser who sits in Beer-convention, or at all acts in
beer-suits.

   (20) The beerschisser who, after he has allowed himself to be called
upon to be fought-out, revokes. (§ 128.)

   (21) The beerschisser who in the fighting-out does not drink in
time. (§ 122.)

   (22) The beerschisser, who calls a beer-honourable or
beer-banned-Appellant, a Beerschisser. (§ 115.)

   (23) He who alters or writes down any thing on the beer-tablet, or
expunges any thing, without the right to do it (§ 136.)

   (24) He who writes down, by his own fault, the name of the
be-thundered, or of the accuser-appellant, wrong. (§ 139.)

   (25) The be-thundered or accuser-appellant who purposely spells his
name wrong to the writer-down. (§ 139.)

   (26) He who, indeed, writes down the name of the be-thundered, or of
the accuser-appellant on the tablet correctly, but who states a false
date or a false quantity.

   (27) He who does not convey the commission of writing down or
expunging within five minutes.

   (28) Every one whose duty it is to write down or expunge from the
tablet, and does not do this within five minutes.

   (29) He who gives to another without due authority, an order to
alter, or to write down upon, or to expunge any thing from the tablet.
(§ 138.)

   (30) He who does not call a Beer-convent upon a fact which renders
liable to the setting-forth of a viertel.

   (31) When one is caught-out--that is, if he lifts the lid of a
covered glass (and jugs and bottles are also included) in which so much
beer yet remains as will cover the bottom, so far that another can
insinuate his hand between the vessel and the lid, and thereupon cry
"caught-out;" or when one is caught-out who covers an empty glass,
though this latter person is under no necessity to cover the empty
glass again.

   (32) He who catches out without cause--that is, he who catches one
out, who in the lifting of his lid has said--"without catching-out;" or
who, while the beer is pouring puts his hand between; or who makes an
erroneous catching-out with an empty glass.

   (33) He who speaks ill of any of the Faculties.


                      II. SHARPER BEER PENALTIES.

§ 135. The sharper beer-penalty is, when any one is be-thundered
at the same time to more than one viertel, or to beer-banishment and
beer-setting-forth.

            (_a_) HE IS CONDEMNED TO MORE THAN ONE VIERTEL,

   (1) Who offends against § 44.

   (2) The accuser who, going before the General, fails to make good
his accusation, and is mulct in two viertels. (§ 108).

   (3) The Beerschisser, who does not cause himself to be fought-out
within the proper period, falls under the penalty of § 117.

   (_b_) THEY ARE CONDEMNED TO BEER-BANISHMENT AND BEER SETTING-FORTH:

   (1) False witnesses, (§ 81.)

   (2) Those who disturb the proceedings of the Beer-convention for the
fourth time, either by speaking, crying out, singing, or whispering to
one another, after silence has been three times commanded. (§§ 87 and
106.)

   (3) All those who act contrary to § 65.

   (_c_) THEY ARE CONDEMNED TO THE SETTING OUT OF TWO VIERTELS AND TO
                            BEER-BANISHMENT.

   (1) The Beer-judges whom the General Beer-convention reproves.

   (2) He who abuses this Beer-comment, or alters any thing in it.


                              TITULUS IX.

                          OF THE BEER-TABLET.

§ 136. In every special kneip a Beer-tablet is to be hung up;
upon which the names of Beerschisser, Viertel-out-setters, and
Accuser-appellants are written, under different rubrics, with addition
of their respective dates and quantities.

137. No one may write any thing upon the Beer-tablet, alter, or expunge
any thing, who has not received a commission to that purpose, from a
beer-judge, an umpire, a president of a beer-commers, or from one who
has declared the Beerschisser to be Beer-honourable.

138. He who has received the commission for expunging or writing down,
must do this within five minutes: otherwise he is be-thundered in a
viertel. He who gives an unauthorized commission falls under the same
penalty. But in this case, he who has received the commission to write
down or expunge, is not punishable.

139. If any one has received a commission to write down a be-thundered
in the Beer-tablet; but the be-thundered declares that he shall appeal
to the general Beer-convention, the writer-down must note this by the
addition of the two letters B. A. under the name of the be-thundered.
So also the writer-down must place in the proper rubric him who has
proceeded as accuser before a special Beer-convention, and declare that
he will appeal to a General one.

140. Every one who has received a commission to write any one down in
the Beer-tablet, has a right to ask the same how he writes his name,
whereupon that person must clearly spell it out to him. If the
commissioner does not ask the name of the to-be-written-down, or has
this person spelt his name out rightly to him, and he yet, in both
eases, write it down wrong, he is thereupon be-thundered in a viertel,
without in this case the one to-be-written-down being freed from his
penalty. But if the to-be-written-down gives him his name wrong, then
he falls under the penalty.

141. He who has written down any one with authority on the Beer-tablet,
and has written him down wrong, is to be called before a future Special
Beer-convention. This Beer-convention has to take care that the fault
of him who received the commission be amended.


[The remainder of this Beer-Comment is given in the chapter describing
a Commers.]



                                     FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: The author here makes no charge against the great numbers
of high-minded and gentlemanly young men who pass through, and confer
distinction on, our universities; but, as before observed, alludes only
to that class and those parties, which are not only depicted by the
Westminster Review, but so fully described by the Editor of the
Quarterly Review, in "Reginald Dalton."]

[Footnote 2: The term _Rechtspracticant_ implies the commonest, the
lowest, and most tedious stage of a statesman's career: in fact, while
he is acting as a clerk or pupil in the amtmann's office, he acquires
_practical_ knowledge of the administration of justice.]

[Footnote 3: The words in the original are "on their Cerevis," a
student term, "on their beer;" meaning, in the beer-court, on their
honour.]

[Footnote 4: Inhabitants of the Marsch.]

[Footnote 5: In the Graffschaft Mark.]

[Footnote 6: Play on the grandiloquent words of Kotzebue.]

[Footnote 7: About a pint.]

[Footnote 8: Probably to prevent Kotzebue's retreat.]

[Footnote 9: No person in Germany can fill any office in a state, not
even that of a postmaster, or captain of police, nor follow any of the
high professions, those of law, divinity, and physic, after he has
passed his college examinations, and taken his degree, without having
undergone another examination before a board expressly appointed by
each state.]

[Footnote 10: The founder of the Orphan-House.]

[Footnote 11: The established word for shirt-collar in Germany is the
very odd one of Vater-mörder, literally "Father-killers;" and they are
said to have acquired this name from an anecdote manufactured on their
first introduction, in order to ridicule their extravagant size and
stiffness, as worn by buckish young men. It was said that so large and
stiffly-starched had a young student his collar, that when he went
home, in rushing to embrace his father, he run him through the neck
with the point of it, and killed him on the spot.]

[Footnote 12: This word, to suit the air, must be pronounced postilyòn,
with a strong accent on the last syllable.]

[Footnote 13: Cicero, humorously here thus pronounced, because a party
among the classics insist that it was anciently so pronounced.]

[Footnote 14: Labours hard, like an ox.]

[Footnote 15: As we have no word or short phrase in English to express
this German custom, we retain their own term, which means touch your
glasses together; their mode of expressing civility, as in our drinking
to each other, and used by them on all occasions of festivity and
rejoicing, as in giving a health, a vivat, or a toast.]

[Footnote 16: The Chore colours.]

[Footnote 17: A dandy.]

[Footnote 18: While translating this passage, the tidings have come
across the river, that a student is shot dead in the wood opposite to
my windows behind the Hirsch-gasse, in a duel with pistols.--Tr.]

[Footnote 19: In English money, from about three to seven pounds.]

[Footnote 20: The bell which it rung at a quarter to eleven at night,
at the hearing of which all persons are to evacuate public-houses, and
betake themselves home.]

[Footnote 21: The university of Heidelberg.]

[Footnote 22: The everlasting subject of regret to the merchant in
Kotzebue's comedy _Pagen-Streiche_.]

[Footnote 23: Because it was the Burschenschaft riband, and therefore a
great desecration to be worn by a Knoten.]

[Footnote 24: A well known Wirthshouse.]

[Footnote 25: A Besom is a girl.]

[Footnote 26: The Senior.]

[Footnote 27: Schools in which all the real and practical branches of
education necessary or advantageous to the business of life, are
taught, in contradistinction to the ideal and more ornamental branches,
as literature, metaphysics, the more critical prosecution of the
classics, etc.]

[Footnote 28: These are not to be confounded with common
Gewerb-schools, which are merely for mechanics: by keeping in mind the
_Higher_ Gewerb-school, the distinction is clear.]

[Footnote 29: Right of matriculation in the universities on the ground
of the applicant having properly matured his studies in the Gymnasium.]

[Footnote 30: Here the learned author undoubtedly alludes to the
universal passion for smoking. Germany is truly, in every sense a
_piping_ nation.]

[Footnote 31: This is translated with the same free defiance of rhyme
and metre as distinguishes the original, and which may find plenty of
parallels in our own old ballads of the people.]

[Footnote 32: States Confederation.]

[Footnote 33: Parliament of a State.]

[Footnote 34: A slanting cut in the left cheek.]

[Footnote 35: Great tun.]

[Footnote 36: A tale of Hauff's under that name.]

[Footnote 37: See the Special Commers.]

[Footnote 38: We have here introduced Körner's idea for the sake of
euphony.]

[Footnote 39: Touching their glasses. The humorous Schluck says that
Schmollis is by some derived from the obsolete word Schmollen--to blow
one's-self up, to make one's-self great; that is, before another, by
drinking. Schmollen, at the same time means to be angry, to make a
face, etc.; meanings, however, which are not to the purpose. Others
derive it from the two syllables, Schmal aus (schmalus, schmollis,)
equivalent to clean out, that is, the glass to the last drop, as the
old song says--"There remains not a nail's proof even within."]

[Footnote 40: Remark of the translator of Schluck's Latin. "This is
false. No real student does pay his shot."]

[Footnote 41: A stick, or rather a cudgel, but a rapier is the most
reasonable.]

[Footnote 42: Inn.]

[Footnote 43: Lateinisch (Latin.)]

[Footnote 44: Bürger's Abbot, with the king's three questions. The same
legend as the Abbot of Canterbury and King John.]

[Footnote 45: The Wirthshaus of Sadler Müller.]

[Footnote 46: It is a popular expression in Germany when children are
rubbing their eyes, a symptom that they are sleepy and ready for
bed--that the Sandman has thrown sand in their eyes.]

[Footnote 47: House of the Philistine in which he had lived.]

[Footnote 48: Holidays--the vacation.]

[Footnote 49: College portfolio, which the student is continually
carrying about under his arm. With the exception of the sword, this is
one of the most striking descriptions of a student of the present day
imaginable.]

[Footnote 50: Literally be-thundered.]

[Footnote 51: The cause and matter of the challenge, and the business
of the strife itself till decided.]

[Footnote 52: In the Kneip they drink out of glasses with lids. If the
user of a glass as he sits so far lifts up the lid that the next person
can pass two fingers under, and cries "abgefasst," "I've caught thee
out!" the person is said to be "caught out," and pays a penalty in
beer. To avoid this, he must when he lifts his lid, say "ohne
abzufassen," "without being liable to be caught out."]

[Footnote 53: His agreement with another to thee and thou, and,
forgetting it, addresses him as you.]



                                      THE END.









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