"On the spit with ox and pig,
Clear the green for reel and jig,
Wine and rhyme and wassail-shout,
Pass the flowing bowl about!"
So the honest, simple-minded Doctor asked again: Is it she? or is it possible that it is not?
CHAPTER XXIV.
AMONG THE STUDENTS.
Any one who would know the Professor at his best should see him sitting surrounded by his students, the mature man amidst blossoming youth, the teacher among his admiring scholars. For the greatest privilege of the academical teacher is, that he not only exercises a personal influence on the present, but ennobles the souls of men in later generations by his knowledge. Out of the many who listen to lectures a chosen circle attaches itself to the learned man, the tie of personal intercourse connects the teacher and the scholar, lightly formed but lasting; for what attracts one to the other, and often makes the stranger after a few hours an intimate friend, is the pleasant consciousness that both value and appreciate the same thing.
This bond, so charming and profitable for both parties, is the noble poetry which learning grants to its votaries. Strangers and men of later generations judge the value of a man only by his books, but however valuable may be the products of a man's mind thus transmitted, it gives but an imperfect picture of it to later times; far different does the living source work in the souls of those who receive knowledge from the lips and eyes of the teacher. They are taught, not only by the substance of his instructions, but still more by his method of investigating and expounding, and, most of all, by his character and the original style of his discourse. For these warm the hearts of his hearers, charm their minds, and inspire them with respect. Such an impression of the human mind, which leaves its traces on many, is often more important in forming the character of young men than the subject-matter of the instruction they have received. The character of the teacher works in the scholars; new life is infused into them, and they imbibe not only his excellencies, but also, sometimes, his peculiarities and weaknesses. In each hearer the characteristics of the master assume a different aspect, yet in each the influence of his mind is apparent, even in minute particulars. The lessons which Felix gave to his wife were not the only ones given in his house. One evening of every week belonged to his students. There came, first, a few who wished to ask questions and obtain information about their work; afterwards, a greater number assembled. Ilse's room was also opened, and Gabriel brought tea and simple fare, and an hour passed in easy conversation, till, at last, the most intimate withdrew into the study of their teacher, and clustered around him in numbers almost too great for the narrow room. Here, also, the conversation was varied; sometimes a humorous account of what they had experienced, or discussions in which the Professor knew how to make his young friends take an active part, and, interspersed with these, rapid criticisms upon men and books, pointed remark and quick retort, such as are natural to those who can recognize long melodies by a few tones. At these receptions Felix disclosed his inmost soul with an openness that he never showed in the lecture-room. He spoke of himself and others without reserve, and entered pleasantly on what he had most at heart.
Ilse was no stranger at these gatherings. Those who assisted in them, whether serious men, old students, or young doctors, found pleasure in the presence of the distinguished lady of the house, who, in her simple way, took part in their intercourse. The year before she had shown her intimacy with the Odyssey, when she summoned the gentlemen to the enjoyment of a leg of wild boar, and expressed the benevolent wish that they would not disdain to partake of the meal. After that she was called Penelope in the circle, and she knew that this nickname spread among the students beyond the walls of her house.
Ilse had her favorites among the young men. Of this number was a worthy student, not the most distinguished, but one of the most industrious of the Professor's scholars. He was a countryman of hers and had been the first to show her that students had tender feelings in their breasts. This student had, during the last year, worked successfully in filling his intellectual vacuum with collegiate knowledge. His lyrics he had almost given up; for when the Professor sent him back his poems, he had felt remorse and humbly begged pardon. Since that, having obtained a good scholarship through Felix, he took a less misanthropic view of domestic affairs; he proved himself a faithful and attached companion, and now bore the honorable title of Doctorandus, which, according to our grammarians, signifies a man who is about to be a doctor; he had also attained a certain degree of recognition among the students; he filled a position of honor in the great Arminia corps, always wore their colors on his cap, and was ranked among the privileged seniors of the society who, on drinking evenings, were exempted from the heavier obligations of conviviality, and filled up by serious conversation the pauses in which the stormy youths took breath.
On one of these evenings the conversation took a learned turn even before the party had retreated from Ilse's apartment to the study. An interesting manuscript had been found in a distant library in South Germany. There was much talk about the discovery and the editor, and Felix recounted with satisfaction to some of his select circle all the similar discoveries which had been made during the last twenty years. Then our student, who had just received a cup of tea from Ilse, and was stirring it with his spoon, said, in evident ignorance of the storm that was lowering: "May there not be many things still undiscovered in the neighborhood? In my town there is an old chest, which contains books and papers from the monastery at Rossau. It is not impossible that there may be something valuable there."
Thus spoke the student, stirring his spoon, like a boy who applies a burning match to a bombshell.