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.