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