Zigzag Journeys in Northern Lands, Hezekiah Butterworth [best short novels .txt] 📗
- Author: Hezekiah Butterworth
- Performer: -
Book online «Zigzag Journeys in Northern Lands, Hezekiah Butterworth [best short novels .txt] 📗». Author Hezekiah Butterworth
The buildings occupy a cheerless square in a central part of the quaint old German town. They are very plain, modest, and unpretending. The lecture-rooms are on one side of the square; in the rear are the museum and reading room, while opposite the lecture-rooms is a row of jewelry, clothing, confectionery, and other shops. I was most interested, however, in the students and their ways.
As soon as you enter the town and pass up the main street, you espy groups of the students here and there. You are at once struck with the contrast they present to American or English students. Very odd to American eyes are their dress and manners. Let me describe one to you as an example.
THE GERMAN STUDENT.The Heidelberg student is a rather large, heavy-looking fellow, with round face, broad shoulders, and a very awkward gait. His hair is cropped close to his head, and on one side of the head, in jaunty fashion, he wears a small round cap,—too small by far to cover it, as caps generally do. It is of red or blue or green, and worked with fanciful figures of gold or silver thread.
On his feet are heavy boots, which rise, outside his trousers, nearly to the knees. His body is covered with a gay frock-coat, of green or gray or black. As he walks the street with his college mates, he puffs away on a very curious long pipe, the bowl being of porcelain, on which is painted some fanciful scene, or perhaps a view of the grand old castle. Sometimes the stem of the pipe is two or three feet long. In his hand he carries a cane, or rather stick (for it is too short to be used as a cane), with some curiously carved figure for a handle.
GERMAN STUDENT.
Many of the Heidelberg students are attended, wherever they go, by a companion who is apt to produce fear and dislike in those who are not accustomed to him. This is a small, blear-eyed, bullet-headed, bloodthirsty-looking bull-dog, with red eyes and snarling mouth. You see such dogs everywhere with the students, running close to their heels, and ready, at an instant’s notice, to defend their masters.
CASTLE AT HEIDELBERG.
Almost every Heidelberg student belongs to one of the social societies, of which some are called “Verbindungs,” and others “Corps;” and the caps they wear designate the particular societies of which they are members.
These societies are both patriotic and social. The members devote themselves to “the glory of the Fatherland;” and they pledge themselves by oaths to defend and aid each other.
Besides the cap, the students betray to what society they belong by various colored ribbons across their breasts or hung to their watch-chains. There is a great deal of rivalry among the societies, which results in frequent difficulties.
The pastimes of the Heidelberg students are almost entirely confined to the “good times” they have in their “Verbindungs,” in which they meet two nights in the week to sing, make funny speeches, and perform certain curious ceremonies.
The students often make excursions to a beautiful spot on the Neckar, called “Wolfsbrunnen,” where they obtain trout fresh from a pond, and eat them, nicely cooked, on tables set out under the trees near the river-side.
Another frequent recreation is to attend the peasant fairs in the neighboring villages, and to take jaunts to the lovely Swetzingen gardens, or to the top of the Konigsthul hill, back of the castle, from which a most beautiful view of the Black Forest and Hartz Mountains, with the broad valley of the Rhine, is to be seen.
On this hill is an inn where many resort to drink whey. Many of the students are too poor to enjoy the pastimes of the others, or even to live at the university without doing something to support themselves.
These go wandering about the country in vacation time, on foot, singing in the villages, and receiving money from the kindly disposed, with which to pay the expenses of their education. As you pass through Germany you frequently meet parties of these poor students, who go about merrily; and to give them a few kreuzers is always a pleasure.
Mr. Beal gave from translations a few specimens of these German student songs. The first was
GAUDEAMUS.From our grasp hath hurried;
After cheerful youth is past,
After cheerless age, at last,
In the earth we’re buried.
Men whose days are over?
To the realms above thee go,
Thence unto the shades below,
An’ thou wilt discover.
Swift away ’tis wearing;
Swiftly, too, will death be here,
Cruel, us away to tear,
Naught that liveth sparing.
And our tutors clever;
All our comrades long live they,
And our female comrades gay,
May they bloom forever.
Who has worth and beauty;
And may every matron who
Kind and good is, flourish, too,—
Each who does her duty.
And the king who guides us;
Long may live our town, and fate
Prosper each Mecænas great,
Who good things provides us.
Perish who derides us;
Perish fiend, and perish so
Every antiburschian foe
Who for laughing chides us.
GERMAN STUDENTS.
Mr. Beal, finding the Class interested, continued the subject by some account of one of the most popular writers of German songs.
HEINE.The songs of Heine are unmatched in German literature, and have been translated into all European tongues. Their beauty of expression, and suggestive and evasive meanings, have made them household words in Germany, and favorite quotations in France and England.
The career of Heine was exceptionably brilliant, and he won tributes of admiration that have seldom been equalled. It is said that on the appearance of his “Reisebilder” in 1826-31, “young Germany became intoxicated with enthusiasm.” His writings on republicanism not only won the heart of the people, but carried his influence into other countries.
From his youth Heine was troubled by thoughts of personal religious responsibility. There were periods when he earnestly sought to know man’s true relations to God. He sought the evidence of truth, however, more from nature, philosophy, and history, than by the prayers and the faith which God’s Word inculcates.
He was born a Jew, but abandoned Judaism and was baptized in the Lutheran Church. Then he became a free-thinker. He studied various philosophies and systems of belief, but was not able to arrive at any satisfactory conclusions.
In 1847 he was attacked by a strange disease. It paralyzed his body, and confined him for many years to his chair. For seven years he was propped up by pillows, and read his praises on a couch of suffering, and they made his life more sad.
“What good,” he said, in despair, “does it do me to hear that my health is drunk in cups of gold, when I can only wet my lips with barley-water?”
In this condition he read “Uncle Tom’s Cabin.” It revealed to him the truth that religion is a matter of experience rather than philosophy, and that the humblest may receive the evidence of its truth through simple faith in Christ.
“With all my learning,” he said, “the poor negro knew more about religion than I do now, and I must come to a knowledge of the truth in the same humble way as poor Uncle Tom.”
He left this testimony in his will: “I have cast aside all philosophical pride, and have again felt the power of religious truth.”
I will recite to you one of the songs of Heine, which is popular among the German students.
THE LORELEI.This thought so full of woe;
But a tale of times departed
Haunts me, and will not go.
And calmly flows the Rhine;
The mountain-peaks are sparkling
In the sunny evening-shine.
The fairest of the fair;
With gold is her garment glittering,
And she combs her golden hair:
And a wild song singeth she,
That melts the heart with a wondrous
And powerful melody.
With a nameless longing move;
He sees not the gulfs before him,
His gaze is fixed above,
The Rhine’s deep waters run:
And this, with her magic singing,
The Lorelei has done!
Among the pleasing stories related on this evening was “Little Mook,” by Hauff, and a poetic account of a “Queer Old Lady who went to College.”
LITTLE MOOK.There once lived a dwarf in the town of Niceu, whom the people called Little Mook. He lived alone, and was thought to be rich. He had a very small body and a very large head, and he wore an enormous turban.
He seldom went into the streets, for the reason that ill-bred children there followed and annoyed him. They used to cry after him,—
Turn, oh, turn about and look!
Once a month you leave your room,
With your head like a balloon:
Try to catch us, if you can;
Turn and look, my little man.”
ENTRANCE TO HEIDELBERG CASTLE.
I will tell you his history.
His father was a hard-hearted man, and treated him unkindly because he was deformed. The old man at last died, and his relatives drove the dwarf away from his home.
He wandered into the strange world with a cheerful spirit, for the strange world was more kind to him than his kin had been.
He came at last to a strange town, and looked around for some face that should seem pitiful and friendly. He saw an old house, into whose door a great number of cats were passing. “If the people here are so good to cats, they may be kind to me,” he thought, and so he followed them. He was met by an old woman, who asked him what he wanted.
He told his sad story.
“I don’t cook any but for my darling pussy cats,” said the beldame; “but I pity your hard lot, and you may make your home with me until you can find a better.”
So Little Mook was employed to look after the cats and kittens.
LITTLE MOOK.
The kittens, I am sorry to say, used to behave very badly when the old dame went abroad; and when she came home and found the house in confusion, and bowls and vases broken, she used to berate Little Mook for what he could not help.
While in the old lady’s service he discovered a secret room in which were magic articles, among them a pair of enormous slippers.
One day when the old lady was out the little dog broke a crystal vase. Little Mook knew that he would be held responsible for the accident, and he resolved to escape and try his fortune in the world again. He would need good shoes, for the journey might be long; so he
Comments (0)