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.