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TRAVELS

NORTH OF GERMANY,

IN THE YEARS 1825 and 1826.

Br HENRY E. D WIGHT, A.M.

B4 r,f, />f^; ?f/f

&. & C. & H. CARVILL.
1829.

EToio,

,#,.^<^<iS.4.4.#4>irBE IT REMEMBERED, That on the fifth day of May, in the year of onr
4pyp> ^b # Ju^ Lord one thousand eight hundred and twenty-nine, and in the fifty-third
«i^jiai'^S3g<># year of the independence of the United Statesof America, Henry E.Dwight, of

pOUTHERl? DISTRICT OF NEW-YORK, «,
jD, That on the fifth day of May, in the year ol
Lord one thousand eight hundred and twenty-nine, and in the fifty-third
 _ of the jndependenceof the United States of Amorica,Henry E.Dwight,of
•0>q§^c;^.^<^<^>^4' the said district, has deposited in this office, the title of a book, the right where
of he claims as author, in the words following, to wit : —
« Travel^ ip the North of Germany, in the years 1825andl826. By Henry E.Dwight, A- M."
In coilformity to the Act of Congress of the United States, entitled, " An Act for the encourage
ment of Learning, by securing the copies of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the authors and proprie
tors of such copies, during the time therein mentioned." And also to an Act, en-itled "An Act,
supplementary to an Act, entitled an Act for the eiacouragement of Learning, by securing the
copies of Maps, Charts, and Books,, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during tha
times therein mentioned, aud extending the benefits thereof to the arts of designing, eDgravin^y.
aud etching historical and other prints." FREDERICK J. BETTS,
Clerk of the S&utkem District of New-Tork.

Ludwig &c Tolefree, Printers.

PREFACE

Most of the following letters were written in Ger
many, in the years 1825 and 1826, and forwarded to
my friends in the United States. As they were com
posed, while living under the influence of the institu
tions of that country, they present the exact impres
sions which were then made on my mind. Germany
has been, until within a few years, a terra incognita
to most Americans ; as, during a long period our in
tercourse with that country ceased, and even since the
peace of Paris, German literature has excited but
little interest in Great Britain, the principal channel
through which we have become acquainted with the
intellectual and religious state of that continent.
In these letters, I have endeavoured to present a
view of the religious, literary, and political institutions
of northern Germany, and their influence on society.
As the sects, the present state of religion, the schools,
and the universities appeared to me the most striking
features of Germany, I have devoted a considerable

IV PREFACE.
part of my work to these subjects. That they will
interest the reader as much as myself I can not even
hope, but I trust that he will find some novelty in the
sketches I have drawn ; and the subjects I am con
fident can not be devoid of interest to an intelligent
mind. If from the view which I have here presented
of the most interesting natioii on the continent, the
Reader should be led to study the language of Ger
many, he will find in its literature, sources of pleasure
which will add not a little to his happiness, and in some
degree lighten that burden of care and sufiering from
which no one is exempted.
As it was impossible for the author to remain long
in the city of New- York, the publishers were under
the necessity of printing this work in one-third the
usual time. The Reader is requested, on this account,
to excuse a few errors which have unavoidably ap
peared.
HENRY E. DWIGHT.
New-Haven Gymnasium,
May 6, 1829.

TRAVELS, &c.

Dear •

LETTER I.
Strasburo, June, 1835.

My last letter will apprize you of my departure from Paris, and
of my arrival in this city, which was once so celebrated for its
commerce, and for its influence over that region which borders
the Rhine. During peace it was a central point for the merchants
of France and Germany ; while in war the armies of those countries
marched towards it, to acquire possession of so important a
fortress. Louis XIV., in the year 1694, captured Strasburg, since
which time it has belonged to France. Its fortifications are
extensive, and require from eight to ten thousand men to defend
them. The enterprize, for which the inhabitants of this city were
formerly so distinguished, has nearly ceased ; as the restrictions,
which now exist on the navigation of the Rhine, have withered its
commerce. Before the French revolution, most of the tobacco
for the western part of this kingdom was manufactured here, and
several thousand persons were employed in the preparation of this
article, but since the year 1795, its manufactures have greatly
declined. It contains at the present time four thousand five
hundred houses, and fifty-three thousand inhabitants.
The charm which is thrown over the mind of the traveller while
beholding Strasburg, is not derived from its historical associations.
No one can approach it vpithout finding these fade away, as the
sight of the spire of its cathedral bursts upon his view. This
noble object, which is 490 feet in height, rises to a greater
elevation than any other monument of art, except the Pyramids.
It catches the first rays of the sun before the city which lies
2

STRASBURG.

beneath it is illumined ; and they linger on its summit, long after
twilight has mantled the spires and domes which rise near its
base. It is at the latter hour that it appears in all its glory,
burnished as it is by the rich golden light which seems to penetrate
it : it is at such a time, that the charm of Gothic architecture
overpowers the soul. Although eight centuries have elapsed since
it was commenced, and nearly five since its completion, it still
exhibits most of its original beauty ; for time, while mouldering
other towers and temples has spared it, as if unwilling to injure
the most beautiful specimen of Gothic art which ever pierced the
sky. 11 duomo, or the great cathedral of Milan, is a more splendid
edifice, and with its six thousand statues and bas reliefs, is a more
brilliant object. The hundred spires which rise on its roof,
will probably for ever remain unequalled, as an exhibition of
magnificence : still, for beauty of Gothic ornament, for almost
inconceivable lightness of architecture, and for gigantic altitude,
the tower and spire of the cathedral of Strasburg, wiU for ever
challenge a competitor.
It is composed of dark red sand stone, which has been rendered
still darker by the revolution of centuries, and it now presents
that venerable appearance visible on those monuments only which
have " ages for their dower." The ornaments are more beautiful,
and its lofty windows more magnificent, than those of any modem
edifice ; while the proportion is so perfect, that you search in vain
for any defect. By means of a succession of staircases, and by
near seven hundred steps, you wind your upward way through
tower and spire, until arriving within a few feet of the summit,
you look down upon an extensive city, and a rich landscape
spreading around you, through which the Rhine meanders, while
in the distance the Black Forest with its lofty mountains terminates
the view. The work of the upper part of the spire is so slight,
that small bars of iron are placed across the openings to prevent
you from falling. Even with this assistance, it is only' with
the utmost cautipn that you are enabled to reach the summit.
You feel afraid to linger, and find it almost impossible to convince
yourself, that such a structure can resist the slight breeze which
fans you; and with a slow and cautious step you descend, tliat
you may again tread the humble region which lies so far beneath.

STRASBURG.

The interior does not correspond with the exterior in mag
nificence. It is too small for its fagade, and its great nave is too
low to correspond with a tower of such altitude. It surpasses,
however, all Gothic edifices I have seen, in the solemnity of its
interior. No other structure presents windows of such colouring,
where light is thrown into hues so brilliant and so variegated, or
where they blend and are contrasted with so intense beauty. It is
the only edifice which ever made me feel the solemn gloom I had
anticipated, on entering a Gothic cathedral of the old world.
Here I found it more than realised, and felt how adrnirably such
edifices are fitted to excite the passions of a superstitious age.
The monuments which you meet in these structures, remind you
not only that you will ere long be numbered with the dead, but, in
the images and bas reliefs which adorn them, they tell you of the
virtues of those who are there reposing. The paintings which
rise above the altars, often relate the miracles of the great founder
of our religion, or of some of the saints who imitated his example,
in all the power of poetry ; a poetry, too, which more than the
"poet's pen, bodies forth the forms of things unknown," and gives
them a reality. Others delineate that awful day, when the graves
shall open, and the Judge shall condemn the wicked, or present a
view of that world of anguish whose gates are barred for ever.
This art has done more for the Catholic religion, than the Inquisition
with all its racks and tortures. It is more concise than logic or
even mathematics, as it reveals at a glance all that the soul dreads
or hopes for; and not unfrequently carries a conviction to the
heart, which no arguments can efface. Such paintings are doubly
powerful from the gloomy light by which they are seen, which
corresponds so admirably with the subjects delineated. To
the ignorant, they reveal the future, and around it they throw
a solemnity as awful as eternity. I could easily reahze, that
in the zenith of the CathoUc religion, before the Hght of
Protestantism had in some measure penetrated the gloom of
these edifices, that no one could enter them without becoming
still more superstitious, and without finding his reason at times
overpowered by feeling, as through their almost holy light, he saw
the solemn ceremonies of the Catholic church, when at the height
of its power/

STRASBURO.

I attended military mass on the Sabbath, when several regiments
were present. They entered by the loud beat of the drum, and
marching up through the long nave of the cathedral, arranged
themselves in lines on each side of it. The drums continued to
send forth their martial peals, long after they bad entered, which
were echoed and re-echoed by the arches, until the whole edifice
seemed to be filled with thunder. Amid this tumult, the orders
"to dress," "to the right face," with the jarring sounds of more than
a thousand muskets struck against the pavement as they ordered
arms, excited emotions more in unison with the church miUtant on
earth, than with one whose kingdom is not of this world. The
band then played several pieces of religious music, which, separated
from the parade we had just witnessed, wouldliave produced a
powerful effect ; but connected as they were Avith the pomp and
pageantry of war, they excited emotions very diffierent from those
usually felt, while listening to such strains. An exposition of the
host, before which at the beat of the drum, oflScers and soldiers
kneeled, terminated the ceremony. No religious admonitions
were heard, nothing to remind them of a future world of purity
and joy ; but every thing was mechanical and military. How
pure is the simple, unostentatious worship of Protestantism, when
compared with such a pageant : how different in its influence on
the heart, and on the life !
As soon as the traveller approaches the Rhine, he discovers his
proximity to another country. German faces meet him wherever he
moves, while German gutturals are every where heard. In Strasburg
this language has stood its ground for more than a century, and is
spoken at the present time much more than the French. As it is
much less pure here, than in the centre of Germany, its gutturals
present a striking conti-ast to the soft flowing language of Paris.
The Tuscan in the mouth of a Roman lady, is perhaps more
melodious than any other language ; still nothing I have yet heard
is so flowing, or so full of naivete, as the conversation of an
animated Parisienne. You discover the same difference in the
forms, in the walk, and in the dress of the Strasburgers, when
contrasted with the inhabitants of the metropolis. The grace, the
light airy step, and the sylpli-like forms, you so frequently meet in
the Tuilcries, and on the Boulevards, you will search for here in

STRASBURG. O
vain. The heavy German tread, the moping walk, and the want
of la mode, all remind you that you are beyond the reach of Parisian
influence. Their faces have more colour than those of the ladies
of the capital, but they are destitute of that expression which
forms the most striking feature of French beauty. It is true that
the veins of its citizens have not a little of the blood of their
conquerors flowing in them; still there is too much of the German
remaining, to remind one of the beau ideal of the canvass, or of
the helle vivante of many of the French and Italian cities.
In this city is a University, which was founded in 1621.
During the storms of the Revolution it rapidly dwindled, and for
a number of years it ceased to exist. Since that perio,d it has
revived, but at the present time it is far from being flourishing.
For a long time it was resorted to by many of the German youth,
even after Strasburg had fallen into the hands of Louis XIV. A
medical school is now connected with it, which is more flourishing,
than either of the other faculties. The anatomical cabinet of the
University is one of the most extensive collections I have seen.
As the metropolis presents advantages in the pursuit of anatomy
and surgery, so much superior to those of any other city in
Europe, the school of Strasburg will probably never rise to great
distinction. There has also been established here, a seminary for educating
Protestant clergymen, which has from thirty to fifty students.
The lectures are delivered in German, and the students are designed
to fill the vacancies in the Protestant congregations bordering the
Rhine. This school, until within a few years, has been Lutheran
in its sentiments, but at the present time it is inclining to Neologism.
Only one Calvinistic professor is attached to it. The number of
Protestants, in this part of the kingdom, it is impossible to state
with precision, as the census is never taken, as in Germany, with
reference to the different sects. From the number of congregations
which exist, it has been satisfactorily ascertained, that they amount
to several hundred thousand. I have heard them estimated, by
several of the Protestant clergymen, as high as from four to six
hundred thousand. When the French conquered Strasburg, there
were not a dozen Catholic families in this city. There are at
present seven Protestant, and six Catholic churches.

STRASBURG.

During the reign of Napoleon, the Protestants were strongly
attached to him, as under his dynasty they enjoyed equal rights with
their brethren. He never allowed any religious faith to operate as an
impediment to promotion, while he permitted them, for the first
time for more than a century, to enjoy their worship without
the least restraint. This liberality attached the Protestants to him
in every part of France. On his return from Elba, Strasburg was
one of the first cities which raised the tri-coloured flag. The
persecutions and infamous massacres of their brethren in the south
of France, soon after the battle of Waterloo, have done little to
attach them to the reigning dynasty, distinguished as the Bourbons
ever have been, for their bigotry and hatred of Protestantism, from
the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes to the present time. In the
province of Bas Rhine, or that part of Alsace of which Strasburg is
the capital, there were in ten years four hundred and sixty criminal
prosecutions, and only four of them were against Protestants, who
form nearly two-fifths of the population. Such a fact speaks
volumes in favour of the moral influence of this religion on
society.

LETTER II. Cologne, June, 1825.
The ride soon after leaving Strasburg became very monotonous,
as the plain of the Rhine was covered for miles with immense
fields of wheat, stretching off towards the horizon. The Rhine
here and there was visible in the distance, but too remote, to ena
ble me to catch a good view of its scenery. As the banks here are
low we should probably have gained nothing by approaching
them. The valley of the Rhine is proverbial in Europe for its
fertility, and at this time appears to be groaning under the weight of
its produce. This will explain the reason, why it has been coveted
for centuries by those monarchs whose territories are situated
near it, and why so many battles have been fought in its vicinity.
Its great fertility has always recommended it to France ; and to
gain possession of it, she has in her numerous wars, spent suf
ficient money to purchase all the wheat that ever rose above its
surface, and lost soldiers enough to cultivate it from generation
to generation. She has coveted it, however, more than wealth or
blood, as it is the great granary of the interior of Europe, without
which her invading armies could not be fed. Could Father Rhine,
as the German poets call this stream, rise from figurative to real
existence, he would be able to tell a tale at which the world would
shudder. We dined at Lauterbourg, the frontier town of France. Imme
diately after leaving this village we entered Germany. This part
of Germany belongs to Bavaria, and extends to within a mile of
Worms. Hesse Darmstadt separates it from the greater portion
of Bavaria, and in case of war with France, it would be impossible
for the latter power to protect it. Its population at the present
time, amounts to about four hundred thousand. The villages here
are built less compactly than those of France. The houses are
formed of wooden frames, the beams running in. every direction.
Between them the cavities are filled up with brick, or with small
stones and mortar. Like many of those in Switzerland, they are

THE RHINE.

whitewashed, and at a distance are pretty objects in this land of
verdure. The floors are usually of wood, a luxury unknown in a
French village, and very agreeable to me, after treading the
brick and stone pavements of the houses of France and Italy, for
nearly two years. The similarity of these villages, and the unifor
mity of the landscape give a monotony to the ride : for even a field
of wheat waving in the wind, however beautiful it may be to a
poet's eye, becomes tiresome when extending around you like the
ocean. There was little in the view to awaken thought, or rivet
our attention, until we arrived at Speyers. This city, with Worms
through which we passed the next day, excited no little interest
when I recollected, that in the former, the Protestants assembled
in the year 1529, and presented that memorable protest, from
which they derived their name.
Mayence, one of the principal cities of Hesse Darmstadt, derives
nota little of its importance from its proximity to the ?ilayne, which
unites vidth the Rhine here. It was formerly much distinguished
for its commerce, and during the reign of Napoleon was very
flourishing. Since the peace of Paris it has lost much of its
commercial importance, in consequence of the great restrictions
placed upon the navigation of the Rhine by Prussia. The course
pursued by the different monarchs whose territories border this
stream, seems almost incomprehensible to one Uring in a country
where few commercial restrictions exist. This is without any, ex
ception the noblest river of Europe, not excepting the Danube, if
you refer to its soil, and to the intelligence and enterprize of its
inhabitants. On no other stream is the population equally dense,
and on the borders of no other does the eye behold a greater fer
tility. Within fifty miles of its current, more than seven millions
of inhabitants are residing, who in wealth and enterprize are not
surpassed by any others on the continent. With such a popula
tion enjoying a free commerce, it would soon be covered with
steamboats, and the masts of its shipping would remind one of the
Black Forest near which it meanders. Were the river and the
country adjoining it united in one kingdom, and still more, were it
a part of France, it would in a few years rival every other stream
on the earth, in the number of its vessels, and in its commercial
activity. If the monarchs, through whose territory it flows, would

MAYENCE. 9
adopt a liberal policy and remove all those obstacles which now
exist to a free navigation, most of the enterprize which marks the
English character would here be seen; and the complaint of
poverty, which is now so universally heard on its borders would
be unknown;
At the congress of "Vienna the allied Sovereigns declared, that
the navigation of those rivers which traverse one or more of the
states of this country, should be entirely free to their mouths, to
all who should conform to the regulations made ; and that these
should be uniform to all, and as favourable as possible to the com
merce of all nations. You will recollect that the proceedings of
this congress, commence with, In the name of the very holy and
indivisible Trinity. We will now see how far they have complied
with their declaration. I have been informed by a geiitleman of
Mayence, that every stuck* of wine going from this city to Hol
land, pays eighty guldens in passing through the Prussian Rhine
provinces. In entering the waters of the Rhine within the terri
tory of the King of the Netherlands, in order to pass into the
Atlantic ; another charge is made, I believe, little if any inferior to
that of Prussia. The wine and other productions of Switzerland
and of Baden, have not only to encounter these exactions, but
those also which the goverments of Hesse Darmstadt and of Nassau
choose to impose. The vine is the principal article of cultiva
tion on this part of the Rhine. Frojn the reputation which these
wines enjoy, were the commercial restrictions which now exist
removed, this region would in a few years become one of the wealthi
est parts of the world. Much of the wine made on this river is ordi
nary wine ; and consequently the more valuable kinds only can be
exported. The Hochheimer, the Johannisberg, and a few others,
will always command such a price, that even this tax will not
lessen the amount of foreign consumption. The lands which pro
duce these valuable wines, are almost exclusively in the possession
of the wealthy ; while the peasantry and citizens, who own those
of an inferior quality can find no market for their produce, or are
* A stuck contains rather more than 200 gallons. A gulden is about two
and a half francs. In the autumn of 1826, the ordinary wi^e cost lests than the
casks which contained it. 3

10 MAYENCE.
compelled to dispose of it at so low a rate as not to compensate
them for their labour. A stuck of this wine will not sell here for half
the price which the Prussian government demands of the merchant
for its passage through the Rhine provinces. As the inhabitants
of this part of Prussia are exempted from this tax, they can supply
Holland with all the ordinary wine necessary for her consumption.
Mayence contains twenty-five thousand inhabitants, exclusive of
its garrison, which amounts to six thousand men. It is one of the
strongest fortresses on the Rhine, and in the wars of the French
revolution was a frequent scene of conflict. The French obtained
possession of it, for the last time, in 1797, and retained it until
1814, when it fell into the hands of its original owners. The
Congress of Vienna gave it to Hesse Darmstadt, but at the same .
time made it one of the fortresses of the Confederation. In con
sequence of this arrangement, it is now garrisoned by Austria
and Prussia, the prominent powers of this union, who have placed a
cor'ps of six thousand men within this fortress, for fear that it may
fall again into the hands of their old enemy. Their hostility to
France, together with the fear that the grand Duke might not be
able to defend it, induced them to unite in securing it against any
attack. Its great importance prevented them from consenting that
either party should occupy it alone ; they concluded, therefore, to
divide the apple, between them. This, I believe, is the only in
stance in Europe where a city belonging to a third party is garri
soned by the troops of two other powers. Notwithstanding they
fought together in the emancipation of Germany, there is \-erj' little
cordiality of feeling at the present time. Scarcely a month passes,
without a contest between the troops of these nations, which not
unfrequently terminates in blood.
The Rhine, which is here rather more than two thousand feet in
breadth, is the favourite stream of the Germans. It has become
endeared to them from its historical recollections, whicli are more
interesting than those of any other river, except the Tiber, as well
as from the fertility of its soil, and the delightful wines which it
annually yields. Their pdets adorn their pages with imagery derived
from its borders, and in not a small number of the songs, of the stu
dents, whether patriotic or Bacchanalian, "Father Rhine" appears in
some one of his costumes, as one of the great objects of their terras-

MAYENCE. 11
trial adoration. Its varied scenery, from the Tyrol to Cologne,
attracts thousands of Germans yearly to its borders, which they
traverse with a pleasure rarely enjoyed on any other stream ; while
among many of the students, a pilgrimage to the Rhine is almost
as indispensable, as is that to Mecca to the sincere believer in the
Koran. It is here a noble stream, and the only one I have seen in
Europe which reminded me of the rivers in the United States. A
bridge of boats is thrown across it, on which you pass with as much
comfort as over those of stone, which arch the Seine. This spe
cies of bridge, which I have never seen, when travelling in my own
country, is so simple, so cheap, and at the same time so convenient,
that it is surprising that we have never introduced it. It is com
posed of fifty-six boats, well ballasted, that they may not yield too
easily to the current, and which are anchored in a straight line,
with chain cables. The force of the stream carries them down,
until they have let out all their length of cable. They are then
parallel, to each other, their bows being turned to the current.
Large beams extend from boat to boat, and across them at right
angles planks are placed. A bridge is thus formed in a few days.
As winter approaches, it is taken to pieces to avoid the floating
ice, and on the approaching spring it resumes its place again.
This city has lost most of its importance to the eye of the mere
merchant, in consequence of the diminution of its commerce. It
will, however, always hold a prominent place in history, not merely
for the besieging armies it has repelled, but for being associated
with one of the most important events in the history of man, the
invention of printing. I looked in vain for a monument worthy of
its celebrated inhabitant.
Mayence, like most of the cities on the Rhine, ]>resents a number
of objects of curiosity. The towns of Europe have so often changed
masters, from the time of the Roman to the Gallic Caesar ; so many
monuments of their subjugation and of their prosperity still remain ;
they have risen so often from poverty to grandeur, or sunk into
insignificance; that they present numerous vestiges of their
former prosperity, and excite a powerful interest in the mind of a
stranger. In passing through the United States we rarely look at
our cities as they are, but sketch pictures of them as they will
appear one or two ages after we have left the stage. In Europe,

12 Mayence.
however, the future never comes into view. Every ancient edifice,
every feudal or Roman monument, even the conversation of those
with whom you associate, transport your mind to an^ge which has
long since passed away., You cannot look around you without
seeing the ravages of time, without feeling that every thing bears
the stamp of ages. A NeapoHtan peasant will talk to you about
the villa of Cicero or of LucuUus, or offer to conduct you to the
grotto of the Sybil, while his son offers you coins, which he will
attempt to prove to be a true Trajan, an Augustus, or Nero, from
the expression, the beard, or the costume.
Having crossed the Alps, you have not left the Romans behind
you. Wherever you travel on the Rhine, you find some vestige of
them, and your Cicerone of Mayence will talk very learnedly about
the antique, will shew you where the camp of Martins Agrippa was
situated, point to the fortifications constructed by Drusus, and tell
how one of the legions which conquered Jerusalem was garrisoned
in his native city. These remains of Roman art excite no little
interest, as connected wdth the history of this region, but are very
inferior to those which 1 have described in my previous letters.
There is here a miserable gallery of pictures, and a noble library
of ninety thousand volumes, containilig some of the earhest speci
mens of typography.
At Strasburg I bade adieu to Gothic Architecture. The cathe
drals which I have since seen are entirely Saxon, or Saxon and
Gothic united. This order, which is principally confined to Ger
many, is much less beautiful than the Grecian, and greatly inferior
in magnificence to the Gothic. It has very little grace or beauty
of proportion, nothing to relieve the eye from that heaviness with
which these edifices seem to press the earth. But though destitute of
the symmetry and magnificence of southern and northern architec
ture, they are still very interesting in an historical point of ^iew, and
like the old feudal castles, transport you to a distant aire, aud
people it with inhabitants. There is a very fine specimen of this
order in the cathedral of this city. It is composed of deep red sand
stone, which retains its colour after the lapse of six centuries. The
walls of the interior are atmosthterally covered with the monuments
of its great men, many of which contain the ashes of its Electors.
They are too burdened with ornament to aflbrd much pleasure to

MAYENCE. 13
any one who has seen the beautiful tombs of the Popes in Saint
Peters, and excite interest only as they awaken historical recollec
tions, or as they present a connected view of the progress of sculp
ture during several centuries.
I am now in the midst of the crowd of travellers just returning
from Italy. Like the birds of our western forest, they are all going
one way, to the north ; but in a few months their faces will be
turned towards the Alps ; and diligences, vetturas, and post horses,
in great numbers, will be put in requisition, to transport the throngs
of English, Germans, Russians, and others, to a warmer climate.
When you once get into this current of emigration, it is about as
difficult to find comfortable accommodations, as it is for a rear bat-
tallion of one of our armies of pigeons to procure a good supper in
the New-England states. It is much less disagreeable here than
in Italy, where there is sometimes but one road, over which these
caravans of travellers pass. There are so many outlets from Italy
between Trieste and Nice, that on the return of these armies to the
north of Europe, they divide and spread from the bay of Biscay to
the Vistula. Among the legions of princes, dukes, soldiers, students,
dandies, tailors; half pay officers, mothers, spinsters, and maidens,
which issue through the passes of the Alps, and spread like a fan
over the north of Europe, John Bull is every where to be seen.
Enter a gallery, or a cafe, or palace, or ascend a mountain, there
is John. Ramble. along some stream, or on a public promenade,
you will certainly see him again. Walk to a neighbouring hill to
indulge your feelingSj while examining a feudal castle, and before
you have reached it, you will see half a dozen of John's daughters,
with their port folios on their knees, sketching a distant view of
the edifice. Enter it, and some two or three more, with their
tall brothers, and bowing cousins, will remind you that Monsieur
Tonson has come again. Embark on board a coche d'eau, or steam
boat, on any thing but a raft, you will certainly hear John-swear
ing because the boat does not get under weigh. At the taile d'
hSte you will often hear more English spoken than the language of
the country through which you are travelling ; and rarely will you
enter a diligence, or a hotel, without learning from the words hum-
lug' and nonsense, that John has .arrived before you.

14 THE RHINE.
Before i-eaching the Rhine, I had anticipated the pleasure of seeing
a steam-boat floating on its bosom, but I found with surprise that
not one has been introduced here, although there are passengers
enough for several passing up and down this stream, during the
summer. As a substitute, they have a boat, called a coche d'eav, one
of which starts every day for Coblentz. On board of one of these
I embarked with about forty passengers. This water coach is fifty
feet in length, by nine in breadth, with two cabins of fifteen feet
each. As it is too small to admit of a refectory, you are under the
necessity of stopping to procure your meals at the villages on
shore. It is drawn a part of the way by two and three horses,
which on a brisk trot carry you down with the aid of the current, at
the rate of five and six miles an hour. These boats, which bear some
resemblance in their form to those on the Erie canal, are small
and inconvenient, and have nothing to recommend them but their
cheapness. The journey to Cologiie, about one hundred miles is
made in two days, the passengers stopping to sleep at Coblentz.
Were it not for the beauty of the scenery of this part of the Rhine,
nothing could reconcile one to the ennui of a coche d'eau; but
disagreeable as this is, you forget it as soon as you enter this
feudal region. The river for a few miles after leaving Mayence
presented very little to relieve the eye, or to reconcile us to our
slow motion, retarded as we were by a strong head wind. Though
our boatmen were tugging at the oar,we did not advance for some
time, more than two and a half miles per hour. After several hours
we came opposite the Rheingau, a tract of land of a bout fifteen
miles in length by five or six in breadth, lying on the right bank of
the river. This region produces the finest wine, and the land
bears a heigher price than any other on this stream, some of it
selling for ten thousand francs per acre. Within this small tract
between forty and fifty kinds of wine are made. Near Geisenheim,
is Johannesberg, a hill more celebrated than any other in Germany
among the students and the epicures of this country. It furnishes
a favourite image to their poets, conveying the idea of the ne plus
ultra of enjoyment in relation to one of the senses. This hill be
longed for several years to Marshal Kellerman, who received it as
present from Napoleon. At the termination of the war of one
thousand eight hundred and fifteen, it fell into the possession of the

THE RHINE. 15
Emperor Francis, who gave it to Prince Metternich, as a reward
for his diplomatic services. It still belongs to the Prince, who visits
his seat every year. This wine sells ' on the spot for ten francs,
almost two dollars per bottle, though not a small part of it, is dis
posed of in presents to this or that ruler, who has embraced the
views of tliis director of the Holy Alliance. The land of this region
is valued, not for its fertility but for the perculiar species of grape
which it produces, and for its greater or less exposure to the sun.
Parts of the same hill will sell for fifteen or eighteen hundred dollars
the acre while the retaainder will bring but one or two hundred, the
wine which its yields being so much inferior. The soil changes
so suddenly that often in the distance of fifty feet, the land increases
in value more than tenfold.
At Bingen, twenty-five miles frorn Mayence, we stopped to dine.
Just below this village, the feudal scenery of this river commences.
The Rhine here contracts to one-third of its usual width, and the low
b&nks rise to mountains, their sides being sometimes covered with
vineyards, almost to the summit. The current here is much more
rapid, and the views which open upon you, as you wind between
these eminences, present a rich compensation for the previous
monotony. On entering this passage, directly before you, in the
middle of the stream is a small island, on which is still standing the
ruins of an old tower. Tradition declares it to have been built by
the Archbishop Hatto of Mayence, from the following circumstance.
During a famine his palace was surrounded by the poor and indigent
who were begging bread. Although his garners were filled, he drove
them away, refusing to do any thing to alleviate their sufferings.
They rebelled inconsequence, when the Archbishop sent his satellites
against them, and the prisoners they made wer-e by his order placed
in one of his granaries and burned to death. While the spectators
were deeply affected, Hatto beheld the conflagration with pleasu e,
exclaiming, hear how these rats whistle. Heaven speedily pun
ished him, by sending arrnies of rats to his palace, which became
so numerous thathe was compelled to fly to Bingen. These animals
soon got on the scent of the Archbishop and pursued him to that
town, where he was for a long time beseiged. (Eventually to rid
himself of his enemies, he caused a tower to be constructed on the
island, to which he made his escape. They unwilling to lose the

16 THE RHINE.
prelate, swam over to it, and storming his citadel devoured him
alive. This story is supposed to have been invented by the monks,
who disliked the severity of the Archbishop's discipline, and
like most of those in this legendary country, was the resultof a fertile
imagination, iimusing itself with the credulity of the age.
The Rhine from Mayence to Bonn, will average from one-third
to one half of a mile in breadth. Its current is from two and a half
to three miles per hour, though for some miles south of Hatto's
tower, where it is not over eight hundred feet broad, it is much
more rapid. The hills or mountains which bound it between Co
blentz and Bingen, are from six to eight hundred feet in height.
They are usually terraced, sometimes half way to the summit, and
covered with vineyards. They form fine swells, separated from
each other by ravines; and are generally destitute of foliage, not one
of them being crowned with a forest, and but few with shrubbery.
They rarely if ever, present that bold precipice and lofty crag, so
necessary to genuine Alpine scenery. Their bases are spotted
with villages, some of which are large and all of them of a brilliant
white. The great charm however of this soU, is the feudal scenery
on the banks of the Rhine. Between Bingen and Bonn, there "are
more than fifty of these monuments of an heroic age. They stand
on the sides and on the projecting points of these hills, and are of
every variety of form and in every state of preservation. At one
time, nothing but a solitary tower lifts its walls high above its base ;
the next will have lost a few of its battlements, while all besides still
stand, as if striving against its ultimate desolation. On the opposite
side of the river, a third rises with its towers and battlements in
the air, while its noble gates thrown open, apparently invite you
to enter within its walls, and accept of the hospitaUty of its chief.
You almost believe that you can see the sentinel pacing its ramparts
and here the roar of festive mirth or the shout of triumph issuing
from its gates, as the victorious warrior receives his crown from
the hand of beauty.
I never realized, until after my arrival here, the superior enjoy
ment of an American to that of an European, when visiting these
monuments of a distant age. The latter is familiar with castled
scenery from his infancy, their images having been impressed upon
his eye, long before he knew by whom they were erected. He

THfe RHtNlEi If
firSl vieWS them as walls of stone, but why they Were elevated thus
he knows and cares not. He never walks or rides, without seeing
them crowning the neighbouring hills ; and from long familiarity, he
in time regards them with as much indifference, as the rocks that
lie beneath them. Even when more advanced in age^ and after he
has become acquainted with the history of the Barons who attacked
and defended them with so much vklour, he finds it difficult to
behold them with any romantic feeling. Although his mind may
be excited when he reads of their prowess, it is still difficult for
him to indentify his feelings with objects, which have been familiar
to him from his earliest recollections. The emotions of an American,
however, are of a more vivid kind ; in the brightest days of his
boyhood, he became familiar with the stories of gallant knights,
drawing their swords in defence of helpless beauty ; he then dwelt
with delight and admiration on the valour of the conqueror, and
drew, with the colours of imagination, towers and battlements, until
every idea associated with these scenes became dear to his mind.
With recollections abounding in legend and chivalry, he visits
Europe, and beholds those objects which he had so long desired to
see, and around which his imagination had so long delighted to rove.
He views them not as ruins of what they have been, but he is
transported back to the period when they were in their glory. His
imagination soon restores the towers and walls which time had
levelled, peoples the castle with its chieftain and his band, and
stores its saloons with helmets, swords, and bucklers, the trophies
of their valour. Such were my own feelings nearly two years
since, when first viewing one of these ruins, and notwithstanding I
have seen more than two hundred since my arrival, I can not now
look at them without feeling a new impulse given to my blood,
when stopping to gaze upon their crumbling walls, or standing on
their lofty towers.
The castles which border the Rhine, are in every state of decay,
,and of every variety of form. Often three or four of them are
visible at the same time, and as you wind round the projecting
promontory, new ones will come into view, appearing like the
spirits of a stormy age revisiting the earth, as if to re-assert their
ancient dominion. A few miles before reaching Coblentz, the sun
threw the shadows of the western hills across the stream, and
4

18 THE RHINE.
continued for a long time to pour a rich flood of golden light upon
these feudal ruins. Had they been adorned with ivy, they would
have exhibited the perfection of castled scenery.
No part of the Rhine, unless the view near Bopport, is superior
to that presented at Coblentz. This city, which contains 10,000 inha
bitants, has little besides its scenery to recommend it as a residence;
but this is so beautiful, that one might dream away a fortnight,
with almost as much pleasure, as on the shores of Leman or Como.
Opposite the city the celebrated fortress of Ehrenbreitstein, the
broad stone of honour, has risen from its ruins. During the Revo
lution it wis often besieged, and eventually taken by the French in
1799 ; after the peace of Luneville it was blown up, and remained
demolished for a long period. Within a few years the Prussian
government has rebuilt it, and it is now considered by military
men as almost a second Gibraltar. This and the neighbouring
fortifications, on the opposite side of the stream, so completely
command the town and the river, that it cannot be taken. On the
right bank of the Rhine near the city, is the tomb of the brave
young Marceau, who fell in the battle near Altenkirchen. The
monument, a truncated pyramid resting on a pedestal, is about
twenty-five feet in height, and was erected in honour of this
gallant officer by the army which he commanded.*
The Rhine widens as you approach Bonn, the scenery being
more variegated, and the hills retiring from its banks. The views
near this city are extremely beautiful, several of the distant
summits being crowned with ruins. This whole country is the
region of legend, and around most, if not all of the castles, a
romance is floating, as interesting and poetical as the neighbouring
scenery. The castle of Rolandsek, of which only one arch is now
remaining, was the scene of a favourite legend with German lovers,
and has been rendered still more poetical, by the beautiful ballad
ofShiller, beginning
* The following is one of tlio four inscriptions on his monument : " Ici
repose Marceau, n^ a Chartres Departement d'Eure et Loire, Soldat a XVI
ans. General a XXII ans. II mourut en combattant pour sa patrie le dernier
jour de I'an IV. de la Rep. Franc. Qui que tu soia, ami ou onnemi de co jeuae
heros, respects bob cendres.

BONN. 19
Rittor treue Schwesterliebe
Widmet euch dies Herz.
Bonn is now the seat of a University which in a few years has
risen to great distinction. As the population of the Rhine provinces
are more than half Catholic, the King of Prussia has, established a
fifth faculty, or has rather doubled one of them, viz. the Theolo
gical, of which there are two, a Protestant and a Catholic. There
are now from eight to nine hundred students, and from fifty to
sixty instructors. It has already more students than Heidelberg,
or than any other University near the Rhine. Neihbuhr, the
historian, and the son of the celebrated traveller, and Augustus
Wilhelm Schlegel, have done more to attract students here than
any of their brethren. The former, in the views which" he has
presented of ancient Roman history, however peculiar he may be
in some of the opinions which he has formed, has persuaded not a
small number of his countrymen to embrace them ; and however
theoretical his opponents may regard him, he will be admitted,
even by them, to be a man of great research. His friends are not
a little gratified to repeat to strangers, that it was Niehbuhr who
first made the Italians acquainted with the existence of the Insti
tutions of Gains, and that, had it not been for his researches in the
library of Verona, not even the librarians of that city would have
ever discovered that such a manuscript had been lying for ages on
their shelves.
This University is more indebted to Schlegel, than to any other
man, for its rapid growth and increasing reputation. Schlegel is
more extensively known in criticism than any other German ; and
by his writings, by his lectures delivered in Jena, in Vienna, and
in other cities, has excited an interest in the literature of modern
Europe, previously unknown in this country. His translations of
several of the poets of the south and north, have raised him to the
rank of the first translator of Germany. His long residence in many
of the capitals of Europe, has enabled him to study minutely the
character of the people whose Uterature he was perusing, and in his
versions of the great poets of the south, as well as of Shakspeare,
you find most of the spirit of the original, in a language perhaps
more poetical than any other now spoken. Within a few years he

20 COLOGNE.
has been devoting much of his time to Oriental literature, and in
several of the languages of the East, he has acquired a distinguished
reputation as a scholar. He is now about fifty-eight years of age.
Cologne, with its lofty towers and spires, appears soon after
leaving Bonn, and as you are borne towards it by the current it
expands almost to a metropolis. It is surrounded by a high wall,
strong enough to make smugglers despair of success, but very ill
adapted to resist a besieging ai'my. It extends up and down the
Rhine about two miles, and about as far in the opposite direction ;
the streets are very narrow and dirty, and the private edifices
are inferior to those of most of the large towns of Europe. After
Rotterdam, it is the largest city on the Rhine, containing, in 1822,
56,420 inhabitants. Its commerce is small,owing to the restrictions
I have already alluded to. Napoleon caused a large basin to be
constructed here, to receive the vessels of Cologne, during the
winter, that at the breaking up of the ice tliey might remain
secure. I counted more than fifty of them Ipng here, and rapidly
going to decay. About three thousand Prussian troops now garrison
this city, which will increase the population to about sixty thousand.
During the middle ages, the Catholic religion reigned here with a
power as absolute, as in Spain or Italy ; and, at the present time, its
influence is greater than in any other city north of the Maj-ne. The
number of priests, monks, and nuns, before the French invasion,
was twenty-five hundred ; and although their conquerors dispelled
much of the superstition of the countries they subdued, enough of
it still remains even here, to excite the surprise of one acquainted
with the investigating spirit of northern Germany. The churches are
filled with relies of saints and martyrs, and skulls and bones enough
appear, to remind one of Napoleon's guard of Mosquaor Waterloo.
In the church of Saint Ursula are the skeletons, more or less
perfectly preserved, of eleven thousand virgins, who refusino- to
renounce their belief in Christianity, suffered martyrdom. When
I asked my guide if he believed it, he pointed to the bones as a
conclusive proof of its truth. Leaving this catacomb, we went to
the Jesuits church, in the tribune of which more skiUls are grinnina
at you. Here are the crania of eighty saints, each of «hich is
adorned with a crown of gold, while the lower part is enveloped in
red satin, with a golden border. In the same edifice are the thigh

COLOGNE. 21
bones of twenty-four saints, the ends of which ar,e covered with
red satin, worked with gold.
Several of the churches here contain statues, arrayed in such
costumes, as to excite laughter to a degree which is almost
irresistible. In the church last mentioned, is a statue of the Virgin,
clothed in a gown, which is tissued with silver. She holds a
sceptre in her right hand, and wears a gilt crown on her head.
With her left arm she supports the infant Saviour, who is dressed
in a similar manner, with red morocco shoes. In another church
which I visited, is a statue of Michael destroying Satan. The
Archangel has a cloak bordered with gold, which falls back over
his shoulders. It is fastened under his neck with a cross, or
something like it, which might almost pass for the cross of Malta,
or for that of the Legion of Honour. Und^r this he wears a jacket,
which' is so tight, that were you to see him out of the church, you
would believe him to be a copy of one of the Tuileries or
Boulevard dandies. The Devil is on his back under the conqueror,
who is raising his sword to punish him for his rebellion ; he
has horns and feet, a la mode d'Enfer, tor they are certainly
imlike any thing on earth. His ears are large, and in shape
similar to those of a satyr, while his legs are a perfect copy
of the thigh bones of the saints in the Jesuit's church. He
seems to be shuddering with fear, as the Archangel is about
rewarding him- for his iniquity, and in the agony of anticipated
suffering, he twists his long tail about his legs with the flex
ibility of the anaconda. His face, a union of satyr, dragon,
and monkey, is thrown into an expression unlike any thing on
earth, in the sea, or in heaven. The pictures which Raphael
and Guido have given of this controversy, and, above all, that
drawn by Milton, impress the mind with admiration for the
conqueror, while the group** just described, excites only the
* In Modena, in the vault of the tribune of the cathedral, there is a picture
of heaven, painted several years since by Vincenzi, which is perhaps equally
ludicrous. The Trinity is representedby an illuminated triangle, surrounded
by a wi-eath of angels. The other angels are arrayed below their wings in
hlue, red, and green robes. Some of them are flying through the fields of
ether, while others are sitting upon the clouds, uniting iu a musical concert.
They arc playing on the violin, the harp, and the guitar, and blowing horns.

COLOGNE.

emotion of ridicule. I have seen nothing in Italy more laugh
able than this : nothing which more completely divested an
Archangel of all that is bright and glorious in his appearance.
Still such pictures produce not a little effect on the vulgar ; it is
the honis of the Devil which they dread, and to escape them, they
will cheerfully count their beads, and give their groschen to the
priests, to receive absolution.
The cathedral of this city, which was commenced in 1248, has
never been finished. The design included two towers, each rising
to the height of five hundred feet. One of them has been raised
to an elevation of two hundred feet, while only the foundation of
the other has been laid. It was begun with a magnificence
surpassing any other Gothic edifice on the continent, and had it been
cornpleted, it would have been the Saint Peter's of Gothic archi
tecture. Although more than two hundred and fifty years elapsed
from its foundation to the time when they suspended their labours,
it is not more than one-third flnished. The light which then broke
upon the world, united with the immense expense of this edifice,
prevented its completion. When looking at its gigantic plan, one
cannot avoid lamenting that it was not commenced a few centuries
eairlier, however much he may rejoice, that at the beginning of
the sixteenth century, a light illumined the north of Europe,
infinitely more glorious than that which is so beautifully coloured
by the painted windows of this magnificent edifice.
In the church of Saint Peter, in this city, the celebrated Rubens
was baptised, and the house in which he was born is but a short
distance from it. Some years after leaving his native city, he
painted the crucifixion of the Apostle, to whose praise this edifice
was erected. His head is downward, and with a part of his body,
is supported by one of the executioners, while the other three are
fastening him to the cross. His body is made to bend, which
Others are singing from music books, in form and size corresponding with
those used by our own country choristers. Two young cherubs hold each of
these books, being ready to turn over the leafs as they advance in their strains.
In looking at this picture,\ou almoSl believe that you are listening to Mear,
Lenox, or Old Hundred. In one of the small catliedrals of tlie Tyrol, I saw
the Virgin dressed in a hoop petticoat, which projected so far, as to endanger
her gown not a little when the candles were lighted.

COLOGNE. 23
attitude is executed with such a power, that you almost believe it
to be a reality. His feet and one of his hands have already been
fastened, while the other is about receiving the last spike. The
distortion of his feet, the grasp of the left hand, and the muscular
action of his arm, present the most living picture of agony ; one
that strikes you with horror. In his face is an expression of that
firmness and fixedness of soul, so characteristic of this courageous
Apostle. He seems to be striving to overcome his physical suf
fering with a resolution that can conquer anguish. This conflict
between intense pain and holy devotion to the cause of his master,
is painted with a power which is indescribable. You shudder on
beholding his torments, and are struck with admiration at his
steadfastness. While thus struggling with death in its most horrid
form, his face is lighted up with joy, as if the glory of that, world,
to gain an inheritance into which he had be6n so long striving,
was bursting upon his view. This expression is beautifully con
trasted with the rage and thirst for blood which fills the faces of
the executioners ; the muscular resistance which his suffering
produces, requires the most powerful exertions on their part to
fasten him to the cross, so that every muscle is brought into action.
The colouring of this remarkable picture is surpassed by none,
except those of Titian and Corregio. Though already familiar
with most of Ruben's paintings in Italy, and his celebrated pictures
in the Louvre, never, until my arrival here, could I share in the
enthusiasm which I had so often seen in artists, when examining
the efforts of his genius. In design and execution, this picture is
not surpassed by any similar works but those of Raphael, and by
Titian's Assumption of the Virgin. The Elevation of the Cross^
and the Descent from the Cross, in the cathedral of Antwerp, do
not present as striking an exhibition of the power of Rubens'
pencil, as the Crucifixion of Saint Peter.

LETTER m. Cassel, June, 1825<
My desire of seeing Frankfort, and the beauty of the Rhine,
induced me to return to Mayence. Between Cologne and that city
there is but one bridge of boats, at Coblentz. There are, however,
several moving bridgeS) resembling our steam ferry-boats in their
construction, but much superior to them in one respect, that they
are always in operation, and with no expense to the proprietor but
the wages of the boatmen. A boat is anchored about half a mile
above the ferry, in the centre of the stream ; to this another is
attached by a chain of twenty or thirty feet in length, and to this
a third is united, and so on, until the last chain reaches the ferry
boat. The length of the chain connecting these is continually in
creasing. The first is anchored very firm ; the others are floating.
The force of the current acting on them and on the large one, is
sufficient to carry it from one side to the other. Thus, without
fuel or horses, they move from one bank to the other, with almost
the same velocity as our team boats, and without any effort but
moving the helm.
In less than three days, with three horses tomng the coche d'eau,
we ascended the Rhine to Mayence. In descending it, we had
horses no further than Bingen, the current from thence to Bonn be
ing sufficiently rapid to dispense with the use of them. At a small
village, a short distance below Bingen, we stopped to dine. At
another table, in the long dining room, I observed two Austrian cor
porals, belonging to the garrison of Mayence, drinking their wine
with some of the Rhine nymphs, who eyed the soldiers with no
ordinary interest. As they gave their successive toasts, they all
rose, and, after the German custom, brought their glasses too-ether
over the centre of the table, each one ringing his glass against that
of every other of the party, and repeating the toast while standing.
As the captain announced the hour of departure, the females came
down to the boat to accompany tlie soldiers. jOue of the latter,

HOCHHEIM. 25
who had been particularly attentive to a young girl of about eigh
teen, allowed the party to precede him, while he lingered behind
with his fair companion. She was a bright, blooming lass, as plump
as a partridge, and a fair candidate for the crown, when the peasant
girls of her native village should choose their May-day queen.
Her life and animation had been somewhat clouded, even while
drinking their Hochheimer, by the approaching departure of her
lover. With a pensive look and lingering step, she accompanied
him to the coche d''eau, and as the word " all on board" was shouted
by the captain, he threw his arms around her, and taking a long,
long kiss, mounted the deck. The lasses on shore waved their
hands, and repeated and re-repeated their leben sie wohl, which was
returned by the Austrians with a louder and louder voice, as we
stemmed the current. The lover remained on deck, and, with his
eye fized on the receding village, stretched his neck to catch one
more glimpse of his fair one. She soon appeared running on the
shore, and waving her handkerchief, which he returned vrith more
enthusiasm than one would have supposed possible for an Austrian
to manifest. The postilion, as if envying him his fortune, put his
horses on as brisk a trot as the current of the stream would allow.
The girl also soon quickened her pace, resolving to catch another
and another view of her admirer ; and whenever the shrubbery
which edged the river obscured the boat, she mounted the first hil
lock where she stood greeting him with her waving handkerchief
After running in this nianner until she was nearly exhausted, she
ascended a small eminence, and fixing her gaze on the soldier,
whose tall person and white regimentals made him very conspicu
ous, even in the distance, she remained as fixed as a statue, imtil as it
vanished around the promontory, she once more spread her hand
kerchief to the wind as her last Ich Hebe dich. I was very much
struck at this unreserved disclosure of her affection, and could not
but feel, that if a little of the etiquette and reserve of females in
the higher classes of society, were sacrificed to frankness, the num
ber of old bachelors in every country would be greatly diminished.
Crossing the Rhine at Mayence, we soon entered the village of
Hochheimp where the celebrated Hoch wine is made. Those wJio
have once tasted this beverage, when mellowed by years, could not
have looked upon the promising vintage which covered the fields

26 HOCHHEIM.
around me, without feeling somewhat of the enthusiasm for Father
Rhine, which the Germans so universally manifest. The climate
here is as cold as that of Pennsylvania, the Rhine being frozen over
for some weeks every year. The vine would consequently grow
in many parts of the United States, where the soil was adapted to
it ; and were it once introduced, it would in a great measure super
sede the use of spirits. This wine is not much stronger than Bor
deaux; and although at first you prefer those so fashionable in our
country, after a short time the flavour of Madeira is even inferior
to it. '
An American or Englishman living on the continent, is not a Uttle
surprised to see even the lower class of society in countries aboimd-
ing vidth wine, almost entirely free from our great national vice,
intoxication. During a residence of nearly two years in France
and Italy, I have not observed ten persons intoxicated, with the ex
ception of foreigners in the seaports. During this time I have
witnessed some thirty f6tes, where there were from twenty to seve
ral hundred thousand persons assembled. At the late fdtes in
Paris, soon after the coronation of Charles X, there were on two
of the festival days, as was reported, more than half a million of
persons within the Champs Elysees, the gardens of the Tuileries,
and on the quays. On one of these days, I mingled very much
with the crowd, and to my surprise did not discover an individual
intoxicated. At a single regimental review in the United States,
you behold more persons thus degraded, than I have ever seen in Eu
rope. Whence comes this nighty difference between us and those
countries, where the lower classes of every city forms a canaille,
sunk in other respects to a degree of degradation totallv unknown
in our towns? It certainly is not owing to the influence of religion;
nor to the want of means, for a drunkard will spend his last farthing
fbr his intoxicating drau ,ht, without any reference to tlie future.
It can be owing to but one cause, and' that is the great abundance
of their wines. An individual long accustomed to wine, acquires a
disrelish for spirits. I here refer exclusively to the light wines, for
those fashionable in our country, are so blended with brandy, as
to, in some cases, increase rather than diminish the relish for spiri
tuous liquors. Most of the wines of the continent are not stronger
than cider, and are much less disagreeable in their effects than beer.

HOCHHEIM. 27
The English and northern Germans drink beer, ale, and porter,
and drunkenness is very frequent among them. The higher classes
in the former country, drink port and Madeira, and not a small num
ber of them, like many in the same station in life with us, fall victims
to this scourge of humanity. The inhabitants of the southern
countries of Europe, drink light wines, and intoxication is almost
unknown. So rare is this, that one of the lower class of society in
Paris or Florence would consider himself not a little disgraced, by
such an exhibition of himself ;. and even one of the Neapolitan Laz-
zaroni would think it no honour to exhaust a couple of bottles of
port or Madeira. Whence comes this? Among the higher classes,
it results from the fact, that at their dinner parties the gentlemen
always retire with the ladies, being too gallant to prefer the society
of their bottles to that of their fair acquaintance. Drinking 'carou
sals have accordingly never been introduced into these countries.
The lower classes, who can only procure the common wine of the
neighbourhood, find their thirst quenched long before any unusual
excitement is felt. After one has drank a quantum suff, every sub
sequent draught gives pain rather than pleasure. To become in
toxicated therefore is a penance, rather than a source of gratifica
tion. The fever produced by spirituous liquors, creates an ever-
increasing thirst, instead of allaying it ; and the more one drinks,
the more he is disposed to do it. The custom of smoking, which is
so universal in Germany, and so common in our country, contributes
not a little to the frequency of intoxication. The fever produced
by half a dozen cigars, or pipes of tobacco, is as great, and the
thirst much greater, than by a draught of brandy. Smoking in
France and Italy is almost unknown. Could our hills be exten.
sively covered with vineyards, how many thousands, may it not
almost be said milUons, of hearts would eventually cease to mourn
over a father, brother, wife, or relative, rapidly reeling towards
the grave ! How many families now growing »p in ignorance and
vice would be rescued from ruin !
An extensive introduction of the vine is not merely desirable in
a moral point of view; I know of no source of revenue to our na
tion, excepting cotton, which will compare with it. In the year
1812, during the continental war, while the French coast was con.
tinually blockaded, the exports of wine from France (vid. Hassel)

28 FRANKFORT.
equalled 28,593,138 guldens, or about fourteen millions of dollars.
They have since that period very much increased. The quantity
consumed in the country by the inhabitants, and that manufactured
into brandy, were nearly twice as mtich as that exported. We are
already beginning to feel the effects of Brazilian and Egyptian ri
valry in our cotton, and whenever the South American republics
shall be established on a firm basis, we'shall find them still more
powerfu} competitors. Were the sunny sides of bur hills 'like
those of France, >;overed with vineyards, we should instead of
sending many millions of dollars to Europe, the Mediterranean,
and the isles of Africa, for foreign wines, receive in a short period
a large amount from our exportations.
Beyond Hochheim there is but little to interest the traveller.
The Mayne is visible on the right, gently winding through rich fields
of grain and vineyards. At the distance of twelve or fourteen nules
from Mayence, the towers and spires of Frankfort rise at a dis
tance, telling you by their number and altitude, that you are
approaching one of the large cities of Germany.
Frankfort is a city of great beauty, with many wide streets,
often bounded by palaces. It is of moderate extent, but some of
the streets contain houses worthy of being the residence of princes.
Most of its palaces are white or nearly so, .giving a hght airiness
of appearance, contrasting powerfully with the edifices of most
of the towns of Europe, which time has covered with the rust
of ages. It is only during the fairs that Frankfort exhibits the hum
and bustle of commerce ; still at all seasons, you easily realize in
the noble buildings around you, what one of the Hanseatic towns
may have been when in its glory. The banking operations, for
not a small part of Germany, are transacted here, and no where
unless in Paris or London, are there bankers of greater fortunes.
At its fairs, particularly at that of Michaelis, which continues a
month, the number of merchants you see moving in every direc
tion amply atones foi- its comparative solitude at otlier seasons.
The walls which formerly surrounded Frankfort are entirely
destroyed, the trenches having been^^filled up. In their stead is a
beautiful garden forming a succession of rambles sufficiently varied,
to become the great promenade of the citizens. This city holds
the second rank among the Hanseatic towns, Hamburg alone being

FRANKFORT. 29
superior to it in population. These two cities^ with Bremen and
Lubec, have one vote at the ordinary sessions of the German Diet ;
the whole number of voices being seventeen. In the Plenarver-
sammlung or full assembly, when the votes are increased to sixty-
nine, each of these towns has one. •
At the Congress of Vienna, the jealousy of the German states
would not permit either of the monarchs, whose territories ap
proached these cities, to enrol them among the number of their
towns. They were consequently declared "free cities" and a
species of Democratical government established, the members of
which are j-early chosen by the people. Frankfort contains ac
cording to Kirchner 60,000 inhabitants, and the neighbouring terri
tory 13,400. The Lutherans form a majority, though several other
sects have their places of worship. Thei'e are here from ten to
twelve thousand Jews, some of whom possess great fortunes. The
revenue of Frankfort is larger than either of the other free cities,
amounting to 750,000 guldens, and the debt to three millions.
The merchants of this town, like those of the Italian Republics,
have exhibited a noble spirit in the promotion of literature, and
the fine arts. The public and private galleries, and above all the
city library, which contains one hundred thousand volumes, are
visited by the stranger with a pleasure never felt, when viewing
similar collections belonging to the ostentatious Monarchs of
Europe. Frankfort is politically distinguished, as being the residence of
the German Diet. The proximity of the Rhine states to France,
whose colossal power has so often crushed them, as well as the
overwhelming force of Austria and Prussia, rendered it necessary
for the smaller states to unite in mutual defence against the larger
powers of Germany, as well as against Russia and France. The
power of the last two countries was so great, that neither Prussia
nor Austria felt willing to grapple with them single, handed, and
with pleasure sacrificed the hope of German conquest, to gain the
aid of the fifteen millions of inhabitants belonging to the smaller
states of this country. The avowed object of this Alliance, is to
defend Germany from all attacks from foreign powers, and from
all internal disorders. Some of the most important articles of the
compact are the following.

30 GERMAN ALLIANCE.
1, Ber Deutsche Bund, or the German Alliance, has avowed its
object to be the preservatioti of their own freedom. In doing this,
the thirty-nine states which compose it, are mutually pledged to
support each other in every defensive war. In a war of conquest,
or in one which is offensive, the other states are not required to
lend any assistance to the aggressor.
2. Every one of the states is required not to give any provocation
to the neighbouring powers. Should it however be given, it is the
duty of the Alliance to demand redress of the offending state, and
at the same time adopt such measures as shall as soon as possible,
put a check to the consequences resulting from this violation of
peace. 3. If one of the states is threatened by a foreign power, and the
danger appears real, the Diet is required to adopt those measures
which shall be necessary to protect the party threatened.
4. The German Alliance has the right of declaring war in full
assembly, whenever two-thirds of the voices are in favour of it.
5. If the majority of the diet decide that there is no danger to
be apprehended from the conduct of a foreign power, and some of
states are still convinced of it, they have the right to take the
necessary measures for resisting an invasion.
6. In case of war, each state is required to furnish its specified
quota of troops, if they should be needed, and this may be increas
ed ad libitum ; but if so, the additional number must be supported
by the funds of that state.
7. If one of these states, which has possessions, not represented at
the diet, declares war on its own account, as an European power,
the Alliance are not required to render to that state anj' assistance.
Should, however, the other German states be in danger from such
.•a contest, they must whenever a majority of the Diet shall think it
necessary to assist that state, so far as is necessary, to protect the
independence of the Alliance.
8. After the Alliance has once declared war, no state, whether
it has possessions out of Germany or not, can individually make
peace or agree to a cessation of hostilities.
9. Peace can be concluded in a full assembly only.
The Alliance was formed not merely to secure themselves from
foreign attack, but also from all internal discord. The great en-

GERMAN ALLIANCE. 31
thusiasm displayed by the German youth in the war of freedom,
excited not a little alarm in the minds of most of the monarchs of
Germany. The love of liberty which they had manifested, as well
as the belief that the Revolutionary spirit of France was prevalent
among the students, induced them to adopt rigorous measures, to
prevent any infringements upon the rights of legitimacy. The
German Alliance accordingly adopted a number of resolutions, of
which the following is the most important.
Whenever the inhabitants of any one of the states belonging to
the Alliance, shall resist the Government, and disturb public tran
quillity, and.this resistance continues to increase, if the government
of such state not being able to put it down, shall apply to the
Alliance ; it shall be the duty of that body as soon as possible to
render the aid necessary to re-establish order.
' The object of this article of their compact is, to stifle in the out
set every effort to obtain liberty, and to rivet the fetters of tyranny.
The Germans in addition to the Holy Alliance, have to oppose the
Alliance of Germany, and to conquer both of them too, before
they can call themselves free. That they might do this were
they once united, and could they feel the same enthusiasm for
Germany, that the French thirty years since felt for the glory of
France, no one can doubt. That they ever will be animated by
such a spirit, no one can believe, so long as they are subjected to
so many different governments.
The German Alliance is represented by seventeen members,
sent by the thirty-four States and the four free cities, the largest
of which is Austria, and the smallest Liechtenstein,* which contains
less than a seventeenth hundred part of the German population
of the former. Every country in Europe where the German
language is vernacular, is here represented, excepting Courland
and Livland. Of these States, Austria and Prussia are much the
most important, possessing more than one half of the territory
* This principality is so small, that I fear most of my readers will search for
it in vaiu, on the maps of Europe, published in the United States. It lies
between Austria, Tyrol, and Switzerland, about thirty miles south of the Lake
of Constance ; and contains two and a half German square miles, and five
thousand five hundred and forty-six inhabitants. It is smaller than even the
" glorious republic of San Marino."

33

GERMAN ALLI.\NCE.

and population of Germany. The following table, taken from
Hassel, will give an idea of the extent and population of the
different countries which are represented at the German Alliance.
The miles are German, which are fifteen to a degree. One
German square mile is nearly twenty-one and a half English
square miles.

Austria, on account of the Arch
duchy of Austria, the Duchies
of Salzburg, Steyermark, Karn-
ten, Krain,Auschwitz, & Silesia, ^
the territories of Tyrol, Trent,
Brixen, Friaul, Trieste, Bohe
mia, and Mahren
Prussia, on account of the pro
vinces of Brandenburg, Pom-
mem, Saxony, Silesia, West
phalia, Kleveberg, and Lower
Rhine .....
Bavaria Saxony .
Hanover
Wiirtemberg .
Baden .
Hesse Cassel .
Hesse Darmstadt .
HolsteinLuxembourg .
Saxe Weimar
Saxe Gotha .
Saxe Meiningen
Saxe Hildburghausen
Saxe Koburg
Brunswick
Mecklenburg Schwerin
Mecklenburg Strelitz
Oldenburg
Nassau .
Anhalt Dessau
Anhalt Bernberg
Anhalt Kothen .
Schwarzburg Sondershausen
Schwarzburg Rudolstadt
Hohenzollern Hechingen
HohenzoUern Sigmaringen

Sq. miles.

.3,658 ,

3,307,3s

1818

Population.

9,635,834

1819 9,025,576

1,497,2^ 1818
335,88 1818

690,23
362,15274,M
206,89

1818 1818
1818
1820

169,501816
181,«1S18: 110, il816!
66,«IS20; 54,r5jl819 18,==ll808 10,971815
28,9i'l817
70,371 Est.
223,88 1820
35, '1819
123,70 1819

90,w 17,16, 15,-1(),2S

181T181-1
1817i1817j
1817

19,10 1817
5, 11817
20,f...iI817

3,528,597 1,386,055
1,^25,000
1,397,5641,020,696 573,455
633,026 394,560255,628
201,180 187,377 56,269
29,706 80,012
230,000 388,094 72,901
225,389301,907 52,94737,04632,454 45,12053,94014,500
37,032

GERMAN ALLIANCE.

33

29.30.31.32.
33.34.
35.
36.37.38.39.

Liechtenstein
Reuss alterer Linie
Reuss jiingerer Linie
Lippe Detmold
Lippe Schauenburg
Waldeck
Hesse Homburg
Free State of Frankfort
Free State of Liibeck
Free State of Bremen
Free State of Hamburg

Total

Sq. miles. 5,50 ' 105
21,5010,
21,86 6,so
4,33
5)50
3,S0
6,32

11,735,77

Year.
1817
1817
1817
1817 Est.
1817
1819
1817
1817
1817
1817

Population. 5,546
22,255 52,205
69,062
24,00051,877
20,61047,850
40,650
38,500
129,739

31,724,169

Besides the German monarchs, the kings of England, Denmark,
and the Netherlands,- are represented here, for their provinces of
Hanover, Holstein, and Luxembourg.
The Diet has two modes of assembling, in one of which, viz.
der engere Rath, there are but seventeen voices. In this assem
bly, Austria, Prussia, Bavaria, Saxony, Hanover, Wiirtemberg,
Baden, Hesse Cassel, Hesse Darmstadt, Denmark, and the
Netherlands, have each one vote. The remaining six votes are
divided between the other powers.
In the Plenarversammlung, or full assembly, these seventeen
voices are expanded to seventy. In this, Austria, Prussia, Saxony,
Bavaria, Hanover, and Wiirtemberg, have each four votes ; Baden,
Hesse Cassel, Hesse Darmstadt, Holstein, and Luxembourg, have
each three. Brunswick, Mecklenburg, Schwerin, and Nassau,
have each two votes ; while the remaining states have one voice
each. In both of these assemblies Austria presides, though in other
respects neither she nor Prussia have any more nominal power,
than several of the smaller kingdoms. Their real power is much
greater. The Germans of the smaller Duchies and Electorates,
complain not a little on account of the overwhelming influence
of these two states in the Diet ; affirming that they carry every
measure which they desire. 6

34 GERMAN ALLIANCE.
The influence of this Alliance in preserving the peace of
Europe is apparently great, but in reality very small. Should
France attack Prussia, for example, Baden would be very unwilling
to expose herself to the horrors of war, on account of a power,
whose rapid increase within a few years, has made her very
formidable to the other German States. She would much prefer
seeing Prussia lose the Rhine provinces, than run the risk of
becoming a province of France. Nassau, Hesse Darmstadt, and
probably Wiirtemberg, would reason in the same manner. It is
true that they have agreed to defend each other, but political
compacts are based upon interest ; and there is no country in
Europe, with the exception of England, where any other motive
ever exerted the least influence on the cabinet. If that power does
not make morality her invariable rule, she usually acts under the
influence of honourable feeling* in her treatment of other nations,
notwithstanding she has suffered a captive emperor to be tormented
by his governors. The cabinets on the continent have never allowed
honourable feeling to have any weight. The reason is evident.
The English cabinet cannot retain their place, for any length of
time, if they act in opposition to the nation. In the despotic
governments of the continent Vox Regis is, at least in the eyes of
the people. Vox Dei. Honour never did, and never will, approach
the throne of a despotic king ; and every appearance of it has been
extorted by fear, and not by a desire of justice and a feeling of
generosity. The army of the German Alliance amounts to 301,637 men.
You must not understand that they have this army actually organ
ised. As yet they have not a soldier, and will not have, unless
war should be declared. The powers, however, which compose
it, have nearly double this number of regular troops, and as soon
as a war breaks out, in which Germany must act as a country,
* As aproof of the liberal policy of the English government, I need only refer
to the recent payment for slaves, stolen from the SouUiern States during the
last war. Had the troops of any other power taken them, no recompense would
ever have been made, unless a compulsory one. The present state of our
negociations respecting the French, NeapoUtan, and Danish spoliations, is »
proof of this.

GERMAN ALLIANCE. 35
each of the thirty-nine states is obliged to send its quota of troops.
Austria for example sends 94,822 men, Prussia 79,254, Bavaria
36,000, &c. The quota for each state is exactly in proportion to
its population, in 1815, when the Alliance was formed : viz. one
soldier for every hundred inhabitants. Could such an army, well
organised, be animated with enthusiasm, they might laugh at the
attacks of France. Coming, however, as they would, from thirty-
nine countries, and most of them feeling no interest in the affairs of
the frontier states, they would probably yield before half their
force. One power would withdraw its contingent, and then
another, until Austria or Prussia would be compelled, either united
or single handed, to carry on the contest.
This Alliance, although it is not regarded by the Germans as
very important in the affairs of Europe, still has sufficient influence
to induce the three great powers, France, Russia, and Great
Britain, to send ambassadors to Frankfort. Its influence on that
city is in a pecuniary view very auspicious. In few towns in
Germany is there more gaiety, and rarely does the stranger see
more brilliant assemblies than here. The twenty or thirty am
bassadors, their secretaries, and attaches, and the numerous
strangers who resort here, give to its society a character superior
to that of most commercial cities of its size. They frequent without
hesitation the soiries of the rich bankers and merchants, and marri
ages between the young diplomatists and the daughters of these
moneyed aristocrats are not very unfrequent. The proximity of
Frankfort to France, together with the long dominion of the French,
has made the language of Paris familiar to every intelligent citizen.
Although all public documents, as well as the debates of the Diet,
are written and held in German, the French is more frequently
the language of society. The German countenance is however
very prominent, and in every promenade, you discover in the dress
and walk of the ladies, that you have left Paris far behind you.
To visit Frankfort, and not see the Ariadne of Dannecker, would
be regarded by every inhabitant of this city as unpardonable. My
German acquaintance here entreated me on no account to fail of
seeing this " chef d'ceuvre of German art, this finest effort of the
modern chisel." My valet would give me no rest until he had
conducted me to the garden of Mr. Bethman, where, he informed

36 FRANKFORT.
me, I should see the first statue of the world. As there was no
alternative, I went ; and, on entering the building which contained
it, the Cicerone held forth in a strain of comparatives and super
latives, worthy of an oriental who had seen the castle of Aladdin,
or Mahomet's Paradise. Had the artist passed his life among
German peasant girls, he could not have chosen a much more
disagreeable altitude ; and had he searched the earth to its centre,
he could not have found many worse blocks of marble. The
execution of the figure displays talent, but the animal on which
she sits, never had any thing similar to it in the forest. WTiether
it was designed for a leopard or lion, I could not tell, until
my Cicerone informed me, that it was un liopard superbe et
Tnagnifique. Though Frankfort is nominally a free city, still neither this,
nor any one of the other three Republics of Germany, has any
liberty but the name, whenever their views are contrary to those
of Austria and Prussia. The fate of Massenbach is an illustration
of this remark. This gentleman was the Quarter-3Iaster-General
of the Prussian army, during many years ; and from his situation,
as well as from enjoying the intimacy of the King, he became
acquainted with very many of the secrets of the Prussian Govern
ment. In 1817, when residing at Frankfort, he prepared a work
on Prussia, in which he availed himself of all the means which his
previous situation had afforded him, to make it interesting to the
world. He offered it to one of the London booksellers for sale,
and having received the promise of a very handsome sum for the
copyright, he then wrote to the Prussian government, telling them
he would not publish it, provided they would bid higher. Instead
of making an offer, they applied to the government of Frankfort
to give him up. As this proposal was not replied to, a detachment
of Prussian gendarmes was immediately sent, to Frankfort, and
the house where Massenbach was residing was surrounded. He
was immediately seized, and carried to Berhn, where he was
tried in secret, and condemned to death. The Rinff chansred the
sentence to perpetual confinement,* Had Frankfort thus violated
* I relate the story as it was told me at different times, by several gentlemen in
Berlin. Although the seizure was secret, tlie trial secret, and he is now a

FRANKFORT. 37
the Prussian territory, that power would probably have required
immediate satisfaction, but as Prussia was two hundred times more
powerful, nothing remained but silence and submission.
On a lovely afternoon, I left Frankfort for this city, in company
with between twenty and thirty Germans, who were packed into
the diligence and several extra carriages, which followed in its
wake. As no one could speak French or English in the vehicle in
which I rode, nothing was left for me, but to talk with my hands.
By means of this pantomime, and a few German words picked up on
the Rhine, I was enabled to carry on for some hours a species of
dislocated conversation, my mistakes affording not a little amuse
ment to my companions. In Italy, the language of gesture is
carried to a greater degree of excellence than in any other country
of Europe.* I have often seen on the stage in that country,
pantomimic comedies, which were perfectly intelligible ; and in
witnessing tragedies of this character, my- feelings have been often
much affected, when beholding the pictures of distress, presented
by eloquent pantomimic actors. Their language is so full of
vowels, as to render accentuation more necessary than in any
other of Europe, while the ardour of the Italian character, united
with the similarity of sound in their words, renders a continued
action necessary to give the greatest force to their language. From
secret prisoner at Glatz, having been removed in 1820 from the fortress of
Kustrin, I will not say that he did not deserve punishment. The seizure and
trial, however, excited great indignation in Germany, which has not subsided
at the present time.
* I have seen a young lady in Florence, play parts of tragedies which she had
seen on the stage, where every gesture and expression were so marked, and so
powerful, as to convey striking exhibitions of joy and sorrow. In one instance
she performed a comic pantomime, where she alternately represented the
characters of two shepherds and two shepherdesses who were atfianced. Thg
shepherds were both jealous of the maidens to whom they were promised,
and at the same time each one was in love with the shepherdess of his com
panion. The numerous opportunities which were presented to them to explain
their affection, the frequent discoveries to which these le'd, the embarrassment
of the one, the anger of the other, the ingenuity of the maidens in concealing
their feelings when thus detected, as well as the artful manner in which they
pacified their enraged lovers, were so eloquent, that language would have
added little to the effect produced.

38 EMBARRASSMENT.
this constant habit of gesticulation, they have formed one of signs,
almost as perfect as that of deaf and dumb, by means of which
they will carry on a conversation for hours. Could such a language
become universal, from how much inconvenience would a traveller
be exempted while traversing the countries of Europe, from how
many tricks and impositions wbuld he escape !
I know of no solitude, excepting the pathless forests of the
Western States, that is more powerful on the heart, than that felt
by an American, ignorant of the languages of the continent, on his
first arrival in a European metropolis. Every house, street, face,
the costume of the inhabitants, the geography of the city, in one
word, every thing is unlike any thing he has seen or heard before.
He sallies forth, and ho eyes but those of tlie coachman, shoeblack, or
beggar, or some one of the legal or illegal class of pickpockets, re
gard him. ¦ He sees endless currents of bodies moving in a thousand
different eddies, hears the rattling of a hundred wheels, mingling
with the confused sounds of an unknown language, coming from
criers of every age, costume, and deformity. He rambles without
any definite object, turns corner after corner without knowing why,
loses his way, and then finds that he is too ignorant of the language
to ask for it. If he is fortunate enough to recollect the name of his
hotel, he stops and looks for a long time at the streams of moving
bodies that are rapidly passing by him, to select some one of whom
to inquire his way. Having discovered an individual moving less
rapidly than most of those in view, he puts on a bold face, and
touching his hat as an apology for the interruption, he repeats the
name of his hotel. He now finds that he has fallen into a new
dilemma, for his pronunciation is so different from that of the
native, that the latter does not understand the drift of his inquiry.
He makes a reply, but the former is equally in the dark ; for he
mistakes the " what did you say," " 1 do not understand you. Sir,''
of the former, for a direction. Having met with such indifl'erent
success, he concludes to thank him, and again, touching his hat,
passes on, with the hope of soon meeting some one, to whom his
vernacular is familiar. Keeping his eyes fixed on the moving
crowd, he at last selects one who has tlie look of a student, and puts
the same question in his own language. The stranger not under
standing him, addresses him with parlcz vans Frani^ais ; the

GIESSEN. 39
traveller shakes his head : Sprechen Sie Deutsch ; another shake
of the head : Parla lei Italiano ; the head again moves horizon-
tially. He then asks him what language he does speak ; whether
he is a Pole, Russian, Spaniard, or Englishman. The last word
brings forth a reply ; " I speak English." With a bow he answers
Je not puis pas speak la langue Anglaise, and he proceeds on
his course. Resolved to ,make one more effort,, he stops a third
time, tries again to repeat the name of his hotel, or commences a
language of signs, in which he is equally unsuccessful.' Then
luckily recollecting that he has a pencil in his pocket, he writes
down the name of the hotel, as he thinks it is spelt. Here
adapting the orthography to that of his own language, the
stranger is equally in the dark. Eventually guessing out his
dilemma, he repeats the names of different hotels, until he men
tions the one he has so long been searching for. An affirmative
nod of the traveller informs him that that is the object of his
inquiry. He accordingly tells him by signs and words, to turn
down one street, up another, cross a third, and then take the first
left hand. Should he not mistake the word left for right, he
eventually arrives at the place of his destination ; wondering how
he could ever have thought of travelling in a foreign country,
without having first learned the language, and lamenting ab imo
pectore, that the idea of the erection of the tower of Babel, ever
entered the mind of man.
Giessen, through which we passed in the night, has a small uni
versity, containing nearly four hundred students, and thirty-nine
professors and lecturers. This is the only one in Hesse Darmstadt.
Its library is one of the smallest in Germany, containing but twenty
thousand volumes. Though this institution is inferior in this res
pect to most others, the libraries of this little state are, in propor
tion to its population, surpassed by few in the small duchies and
electorates of Germany. That of Mayence contains ninety
thousand, and that of Darmstadt eighty-five thousand volumes.
Leaving Giessen a few miles behind us, we entered the territory
of Hesse Cassel, and at sunrise arrived at Marbourg, the seat of the
only university of this electorate. This institution, like that of
Giessen, has never risen to great distinction. As there are but
three hundred students, I know not how its eight and thirty pro-

40 CASSEL.
fessors and lecturers are enabled to gain an adequate support. Its
library is small, containing but fifty-five thousand volumes, as the
electors of this state have never been distinguished for their love
of literature.
Cassel is situated on the Fulda, which is navigable some distance
above the town. The old town is one of the ugliest in Europe,
while the new is one of the most beautiful. Its street, called Ko-
nigstrasse, would be admired in most of the capitals of Europe for
its width, its neatness, and for the beauty of the houses which
adorn it.
Wilhelmshohe, near Cassel, and Potsdam, near Berlin, are the
Caserta and Versailles of the north of Germany. The former
with its grounds is a splendid summer residence for any prince>
surpassing those of all the petty monarchs of Europe. The palace,
at the distance of four miles from the capital, rests on the side of a
hill, or rather mountain, the summit of which is crowned by a lofty
edifice, on which a colossal statue of Neptune is standing. The
grounds, which are very extensive, abound with objects which
recal distant ages and countries to your recollection. Now you
enter the temple of Apollo or of Mercury, or stop at Socrates' her
mitage or Plato's hall ; again a feudal castle in perfect preservation
(for it is not yet half a century old) breaks upon your view. Here
an Egyptian pyramid, there a Chinese village or saloon, remind
you of any thing but Germany, while at the next turn a lofty aque
duct, whose shattered arches are hanging over an abyss, makes you
for a moment feel that you are approaching the Campagna. The
Devil's bridge, spanning a profound ravine, remind you of your
Alpine rambles; while the Giant's castle, crowning a lofty eminence,
recals Orillo to your recollection, and 30U almost listen to hear the
horn of Astolfo. Waterfalls, cascades, fountains, lakes, and basins,
are every where scattered amid these mementos of remote coun
tries and distant ages ; enlivening the solitude with the brilliancy
of their reflected light, and with their animating roar.
The waterworks here are superior to any in German}-, and in
some respects surpass those of Versailles. The great jet forms a
column of fourteen inches in diameter, two hundred feet in height,
and sixty feet higher than any other in Europe. The great cascade
which bursts out of the Giant's castle, descends an inclined plain

CASSEL. 41
of nine hundred feet, and falls into a basin of corresponding mag
nitude. The cascade of Caserta, which has been the wonder of
travellers for fifty years, has not more than two-thirds of this
altitude. Cassel contains twenty-one thousand inhabitants, its population
having diminished within a few years. While it was the capital
of WestphaUa, there %vere eight or ten thousand more than at pre
sent, the additional number having been supported by the profusion
of Jerome's court. Its present elector possesses one of the largest
fortunes in Europe, much of which he expends on his soldiers. The
contingent of troops, for the German alliance, is less than six thou
sand men, while his army amounts to ten thousand, nearly half of
his troops being maintained from his private fortune. Wilhelm
II. is one of the most unpopular princes in Germany, and if we
may believe the Germans, cares nothing for the happiness of his
subjects. He has, however, by presents and promotions, made
himself very popular with his soldiers, and on their affection he
rests his hopes. His marriage with the sister of the king of Prus
sia has been a very unfortunate one, the countess of Reichenbach
having supplanted her in his affections. This is so much d la mode
royale, that even the Germans seem to feel as if it were a matter of
course for a monarch to have his chere amie, and on her to shower
his smiles. The courtiers imitate the sovereign, and the citizens the
courtiers ; until, in many of the capitals of Europe, fidelity sounds
to most ears like the age of chivalry, the golden age, &;c. which
exist only in the regions of romance.
It was from Cassel that the Hessian troops marched to embark
from Bremen for America, in the war which gave us independence.
Frederic II. then Landgrave of Hesse, was enabled to keep a brilliant
court, to fill his coffers, and squander fortunes upon his mistresses,
by robbing the widow and orphan of their son and brother, and sell
ing them to a foreign power to be marched to the slaughter.
While looking at the troops, with their long mustachioes, as they
performed their evolutions, I could see hundreds who corresponded
with the pictures my imagination drew of a Hessian, when lis
tening, in my boyhood, to the narratives of those who had met
them in the field.
Hesse is one of the most protestant countries on the continent.
7

42 CASSEL.
In a population of nearly six hundred thousand, there are but ninety
thousand Catholics. Of the former, three hundred and thirty-three
thousand belong to the reformed church, a greater proportion than in
any other German state, and about thirty thousand more than in
Prussia, which contains eighteen times its population. Hassel esti
mates the income at three million nine hundred thousand guldens,
and the national debt at three million and a half. This debt,
which does not exceed one million seven hundred thousand of our
dollars, is one of the smallest in Germany. Saxe Meiningen, with
a population of 54,000 has a debt nearly one-half larger ; and Lii
beck with forty thousand people, has one almost as large. The
wealth which Frederick II. acquired in our revolutionary struggle,
much of which his descendants have inherited, will perhaps account
for the comparative smallness of this debt.
The late elector promised his people a constitution, but he died
in 1821, without giving it to them. As the promises of fathers are
not usually considered as very obligatory upon the children, there
is but little reason to believe that they will receive it, unless they
put their hands upon their swords, and wrest it from those who
govern.

43

LETTER IV. GoTTiNGEN, Sept. 1825.
Gottingen lies in a fertile plain, bounded by hills of consider-
ahle altitude, through the openings of which the Harz mountains,
so renowned in superstitious legend, swell in the blue distance and
meet the heavens. The city is surrounded hy a wall twenty feet in
height, and forty in breadth. Two rows of trees have been planted
on it, which meeting with their branches, make it the favourite
ramble of the students. The city is two and a half miles in cir
cumference, and contains ten thousand inhabitants. Like most of
the towns in Germany, it is built very compactly, the houses being
of two and three stories". The professors with their families, the
students-and the Philisters, or those who live on the money which
the students circulate, form the great majority of the inhabitants.
A few of the nobility and the judges of the courts of this district
make up the remainder. In passing through Gottingen, an Ame
rican could discover nothing to remind him of a university, unless
the great number of young men whom he meets, with their port
folios under their arms, should excite his curiosity. There are but
two academical buildings attached to it, the library and the lying-
in- hospital. The resources of the institution, instead of being ex
pended on buildings, are appropriated *to the increase of cabinets,
museums, and the library.
The style of living here corresponds with that of other German
universities. All who can afford it have at least two rooms, as it is
considered very much against la mode for a student to receive his
visiters in his bed room, as is done in Paris ; and nothing but ^reat
poverty would reconcile two students to living together, unless they
had a suite of rooms. Two good rooms, well furnished, cost
twelve Frederick d'ors, or sixty-eight Prussian dollars* annually.
Each student breakfasts in his room, the family in whose house he
* The Prussian dollar is about seven ty-five cents.

44 GOTTINGEN.
resides providing him with what he orders, and charging a very
small commission for their trouble. A French breakfast, that is, one
without a fork, costs about a dime ; one with a fork, from one and a
half to two dimes. The students dine at restaurateurs, at table
d'hStes, or in their rooms, without wine, at from four to eight Spa
nish dollars per month. Wine costs from one fourth of a dollar to
a dollar per bottle. Boarding-houses, in our sense of the word,[are
unknown here. From these items, you will be enabled to form
some idea of the expense of living at a German university in a
small town.
All foreigners, I mean all who are not Germans, on entering
this university, need only state their wish to the Pro Rector, and
they are received without hesitation. It is, however, necessary for
the natives to bring with them a certificate, from the gymnasium
where they have studied, that they have passed a certain number of
years at one or more of these institutions, and after a thorough
examination have been found qualified to enter a university. If
such a certificate is not presented, a German must be examined by
some one of the professors, before he can be received. The reason
of this is, that most offices under government are given to men of
education ; and a mere residence of two or three years at the uni
versity, without the previous instruction of a gymnasium, is not
considered sufficient to qualify an individual for such places. Every
student, within twenty-four hours after his arrival in town, must
present himself to one of the secretaries of the university, informing
him that he wishes to join it. He then receives a paper to be signed
by him, the principal articles of which are — that he will obey the
laws, that he vrill not fight a duel, and' that he will not belong to any
secret society, particularly to five or si.x political clubs, which a few
years since were in existence nere. Although these societies have
been suppressed by the strong arm of power, the government of
Hanover are very fearful that thay may be revived in secret ; and
not contented with abolishing them, make you promise that you
never will belong to them. After subscribing my name, and pay
ing an entrance fee of a Frederick d'or, the secretary presented a
box to me, to contribute something for the support of the poor of
Gottingen, observing that it was a universal custom. This cere
mony being ended, I called on the Pro Rector, who once more
asked me if I would promise to obey the laws ; to which I assented.

STUDENTS. 45
He then gave me his hand, which is a part of the ceremony of Ad
mission, and shaking mine, told me, that I was a member of the
university. This city presents a singular appearance to the eyes of a stran
ger. Its streets are teeming with young men, who exhibit a stri
king contrast to those of the towns of France and Italy. The
students of the university of Paris are the most negligent in their
costume of any Frenchmen in the kingdom ; and it is not only
apparently, but . literally true, that they avail themselves of their
residence in the pays latin,* to wear out their old clothes ', dressing
in a manner so different from their neighbours on the other side
of the Seine, that nothing but their language would lead you to
believe that they belonged to a country where personal appearance
was esteemed almost a virtue. Those of the Italian universities
which I have visited, particularly Pisa and Bologna, exhibit the
same iieghgence in their dress, when contrasted with the citizens.
In other respects the students partake of the same feelings as their
parents, and are in the fullest sense of the word Frenchmen and
Italians. The German-students, however, are not Germans. They
feel, as soon as thtJy have entered on their career, as if all those
restraints were removed by which they were curbed while in the
gymnasia ; and they enter on their wild stormy course of life,
resolving to submit to no law except Such as^he Landsmannschaften,
or clans of the university impcise upon them, and those which are
enforced by the strong arm of power.
The students show, very extensively, a disregard to all fashion,
dressing in any manner that pleases their taste, but usually select
ing one whichis far removed from the beau ideal as possible. Some
assume the character of university dandies, wearing coats with very
long skirts, and pantaloons which remind you of two meal bags, or
a Turk's trowsers lengthened. All who can raise a pair of mus
tachioes cover their upper lip with this ornament, endeavouring
to appear as fierce as possible, that they may in this manner look
down all opposition. To their boots they attach spurs of enormous
dimensions, which they wear on all occasions, unless when dancing ;
and with their iron heels and jarring spurs, they clatter along the
* The French have given this name to that part of Paris which is near the
royal university.

46 GOTTINGEN.
pavement like so many horses. A dandy student thus accoutred
is not fully equipped, until one or more rings as large as watch
seals adorn his fingers. The ruffle of his dickey (for many of them
have no shirts) extends to a most unreasonable length, and this
filling with the wind, and with a pipe four or five feet in length,
he struts through the streets with the air of a Turk.
A few years since, soon after the war of Freedom, as they call
that of 1813 and 1814, they adopted very generally the old Ger
man costume, such as they supposed it to have been when their
ancestors, under Hermann, drove the Romans back to the Alps.
This continued in vogue for many years, but is gradually growing
into desuetude. It still exists, however, a few of the students ad
hering to the old national fashion, as if it were the strongest proof
they could give of their patriotism. The prominent features of
this costume are hair as long as nature will permit it to grow,
until it hangs over their ears and shoulders like a mop, which they
never allow the shears to approach ; as if, like the son of Manoah,
their strength lay in their locks ; a coat, which neither Stutz nor
Watson could describe ; a bare neck, which has been exposed so
long to the winter's wind and the summer's sun, as to present the
most striking exhibition of tough rigidity ; a shirt or chemisette
collar, turned back over the almost collarless coat ; and mustachios
of several inches in length, which point at you with a most formi
dable curl, as if setting you at defiance. Thus equipped, a patriotic
German student looks down with supreme contempt on all he
meets, not even excepting his less patriotic brethren ; and though
not very fond of a row, he is willing to fight any one who does not
give him his side of the pavement, or who looks at him with any
expression but that of respect.
Until my arrival here, I had always supposed that smoking was
peculiarly the element of a Dutchman. This, however, the Ger
man student would be very unwilling to admit. If the length and
number of the pipes in their possession, if a continued puffing from
morn till eVe, from eve till midnight, can entitle them to pre
eminence, they certainly merit it. A Dutchman smokes when tra
velling, and when resting from his labour ; a student of this country
usually puffs not only at those times, but while studying, reading, or
writing ; in fact, most of the time, when he is not attending his lee-

LANDSMANNSCHAFTEN. 47
tures or at his meals. It becomes a part of his existence, and were
tobacco denied him, life would lose many of its charms. As they
are not allowed to smoke in the streets, you usually meet them with
their pipes in their hands, that they may avail themselves of the first
opportunity of lighting them, as soon as they have stepped outside
of the walls. The moment they enter the room of a friend, the
pipe enkindhng apparatus, consisting of a large bag, holding from
a fourth to half a pound of tobacco, with flint, steel, and tinder, is
opened ; and with a dexterity quite unaccountable to a foreigner,
they not only kindle their tobacco, but send out volumes of smoke
more like a steam-boat than an ordinary smoker. Their pipes are
made of meershaum, of buckshorn, and of porcelainVand are often
of enormous dimensions. The latter are beautifully ornamented
with landscapes, with pictures of the ruins of Germany, with co
pies of celebrated paintings, or with miniatures of warriors, states
men, poets, and professors. They are not unfrequently executed
with great beauty, and the colours being burned in, remain indelible.
Each pipe has a flexible tube attached to it, from one to six feet in
length, which curves with almost as much grace as the smoke which
it emits. They are ornamented with a gold or silver cord, and with
two tassels of the same material beautifully braided ; and thus
adorned, cost from one to forty dollars. On entering one of their
rooms, the first thing that is offered you is one of the half dozen
or dozen pipes which are suspended from the wall, and the only
way to avoid inhaling this cloud of smoke, is to breathe your own.
Very many of the secret clubs which formerly existed here have
been abolished, though some of them have, it is said, re-appeared
under different names. They were viewed by the government as
politically dangerous, and it resorted on that account to the severest
measures to eradicate them. Clubs still exist, which meet in se
cret, to which they give the name of Landsmannschaften, which
correspond in some degree with the clans of Scotland. The lite
ral meaning of this word is Countrymanships, or sometimes, Dis-
trictmanships, for when the number of students from any one
country is great, they divide the Landsmannschaft into two. For
example, there are here, the Westphalian Landsmannschaft, No-
1 and No. 2 ; the Bremen do. from the city, and from the country
around it. The Hanoverians, if I mistake not, are also divided

48 Gottingen.
into several. Most of the states of Germany have one or more
Landsmannschaften in this university, the members keeping toge
ther with as perfect a clannish feeling, as ever existed in the High
lands. They are distinguished by the colour of their caps, for very
few of them wear hats. To give you an idea of their appearance,
I will describe several of them.
1. The Courianders, cap green, band blue, edge white.
2. Prussians, do. white, do. black, do. black.
3. Liineburgers, do. blue, red border, do. white.
4. W'estphalians, No. 1, do. green, band black velvet, edge
white.
5. Westphalians, Nos. 2, do. black, band white and green.
6. Hanoverians, cap red, band black, with a golden edge.
7. Swiss, cap red, edge white, with a cross on the front, &.c. &c.
Of these Landsmannschaften there are more than twenty, among
which you find several, consisting principally of those who have a de
sire to keep alive the old costume of their country. They have as
sumed names indicative of their feelings, or at least of their barba
rous appearance. Among these the Teutoners and the Vandalians
are the most conspicuous. Each Landsmannschaft has its president,
vice-president, treasurer, secretary, and other officers, who direct the
ordinary concerns of the body. Every student, on arriving here,
must unite with the Landsmannschaft of his country or district, as by
not doing it he will be exposed to contempt, though not to iU treat
ment, as formerly. He will however be considered, as destitute of
that patriotism, which every young student regards as essential to a
genuine burscli, and amid neglect and silent contempt, he will find
himself very unpleasantly situated. Some few cases have occur
red, where students have refused to unite themselves to these so
cieties, and have not only escaped molestation, but have passed
one or more years here without being insulted. These cases how
ever are rare.
Each student, on joining his Landsmannschaft, as well as at the
commencement of each Semestre, or term, pays into the treasury
of his clan a Frederick d'or. The money thus received is applied
to defraying the expenses of the society. Most of it, however, is
consumed in purchasing duelling weapons and dresses. A species
of armoury is attached to each of these Landsmannschaften, where

DUELLING. 49
are collected all , the necessary implements for combat, which are
adapted to the different stature of the students. From this arse
nal they select their weapons. The number of. duels fought is
often so great, that they are compelled to impose a second tax
before the end of the term, to provide themselves with new
armour and dresses. A complete dress, sword, &,c. cost from
twenty tp thirty dollars.
Duelling is more prevalent in the universities of Germany than in
any other place on the earth. To have passed two or three years
at one of these institutions, and not to have fought as many duels,
is a rare example of moderation ; and so, far from being regarded
as an honour, is considered by the students as a proof of a want
of spirit. They do not wait for a genuine provocation, one that
would give velocity to their blood, but avail themselves of every
opportunity to display their courage. , Every university has its
code of laws relating to the intercourse of the students with one
another. Some of these have ibeen . passed in general council,\
while others by tacit consent, have acquired a similar authority.
These are regarded by the Burshen as inviolable, an4 whenever
they come in collision with the laws of the university, they become
in their eyes nulLand void. From a violation of thpse laws, not a
few of the duels proceed. There is a law here, established by cus
tom, that two students in passing each other, shall always turn to
the left. As this city; has side-walks, they place a double value on
their right to the outside of the pavement. Inadvertence or design,
almost every day, brings two or more of them opposite each
other. When thus almost in contact, the idea of turning is
rejected as cowardly, and they advance until they meet. As it is an
invariable law in the material world, that when two bodies meet
each other, the smaller must yield to the larger, the velocities
being the same, the smaller student soon finds himself in the gutter.
Full of ire at the dirty ideas his situation awakens, which is pro
bably increased by the feeling all little fellows have, when com
pelled to contrast themselves with large bodies, he turns to his
opponent and says, " Sie sind ein dummer Junge," in other
words, " you are a stupid fellow," or a blockhead. His anta
gonist immediately inquires of him where he resides, and having
ascertained, says to him, " you are challenged." Accordingly,
8

so GOTTINGEN.
having chosen his second, this friend calls upon the offending
student, informing him that he is to officiate as second to his own
friend ; requesting him at the same time to choose one for himself.
This he does, and the two seconds fix upon the time and place,
and the duel takes place. But the Bursch is not merely alive to
his own honour, he is still more so to that of his Landsmannchaft.
If any individual speaks disrespectfully of one of these clans, he
is immediately called a dummer Junge by the person belonging to
it who hears him. To be called a blockhead, is an insult which
nothing less than a duel <;an atone for. If thus insulted, it is
indispensably necessary to challenge the offender immediately,
who is equally under the necessity of accepting it. Should either
of them fail of acting like a genuine Bursch, his character would
be considered infamous by his brethren, and he would be treated
accordingly. The promise which he made on entering the imiver-
sity is of no consequence ; as all the laws to which he has sub
scribed, disappear before this all-powerful code of honour. These
and many similar causes of offisnce, arising from accident or design,
give rise to frequent duels, until the report of several in a day,
ceased in a few weeks after my arrival to excite surprise.
Whenever -a student is challenged, he has not the privilege of
choosing his own weapons. If he is a German, he must fight
according to the established mode of the university ; if not, he is
allowed to claim the mode of fighting adopted in his native coun
try. His opponent, however, may refuse to fight, unless he adopts
the weapons of the university, and then the affair ends in words,
without any effusion of blood. The English and Americans who
have been here, have in a few instances been challenged, but
claiming the right to use the pistol, they have almost always
found their opponent retreat, as they are not very fond of the
smell of powder. When one student offends another in a very
insulting manner, the latter has the liberty of challenging him auf
Pistolen, (on pistols;) as the German? express it, and it is then
thoughJ'cowardly not to accept it on these conditions.
When death ensues from these duels, the laws of Hanover con
demn the principals and seconds to several years imprisonment.
If they are natives, they are also prohibited holding offices imder
the government. When they fight in this manner, if they can

DUELLING. 5i
afford the expense, they usually cross the Danish, Dutch, or French
lines, and after the duel immediately retreat into Germany ; if not,
they cross into some other German state, and after fighting return
to Hanover, where they conceal themselves for a long time, or
make their escape through the assistance of their friends, as the
police ^f the different German states act in concert in detecting
lie joffenders. An exile of a few years is sufficient to let the affair
blow over, when they return and live peaceably at home-
Their mode of fighting with pistols is peculiar I believe to Ger
many. A line is drawn, and the two combatants at the distance
of ten rods Jrom it, advance towards each other, with the privilege
of firing just when tljey please. This they rarely do, until within
a short distance of each other. If one has fired and missed, or
slightly wounded his opponent, he is required to advance to the
line, to which his antagonist approaches. When within a foot of
him, it is considered perfectly honourable to shoot him through
the heart, which he commonly does, unless his pistol merely
flashes, or unless he possesses more than usual generosity. How
such barbarism should have continued to the nineteenth century,
in a Christian country, is to me inexplicable.
As the German students are usually so poor as to find it very
difficult to meet the expenses of their education, these combats
would of necessity almost cease, were the Landmannsfihaften
once abolished. These institutions are in the fullest sense of the
word the great nurseries of duelling. They not only furnish the
necessary weapons, dresses, &c. but they keep alive that spirit
of jealousy which is so conspicuous in this university. When one
Landsmannschaft is insulted by the student of another, it some
times occurs, that both of these clans are brought into the quarrel.
In such cases, it is necessary for every member to take his turn,
and fight for the honour of his brotherhood. In such instances,
he rarely, if ever, knows who is to be his opponent, until a short
time before the combat begins, and then perhaps he fights with
one whom he has never seen before.
The genuine university duel, differs from any other in Europe.
In some slight degree the mode varies in the different universities,
but the leading features are every where the same. The weapon
used is a straight sword, abotit three feet in length. Near the

62 GOTTINGEN.
point it has a double edge, so that it will cut equally well on either
side. To protect the hand a circular piece of brass or iron of six
or eight inches in diamater rises between the handle and the blade.
These three parts are separated from each other, the cap receiving
the circle of defence, the handle being placed in their pockets, and
the blade concealed in a hollow cane, or carried under their coats.
Thus prepared they promenade the streets, and go to the theatre
of combat, without even exciting a suspicion in the minds of the
gendarmes or constables, (for I know not what else to call them,)
attached to the University.' When assembled at the room which
is to be the scene of their prowess, the parties consist of the fol
lowing persons. The combatants, — the seconds, — the umpire who
is chosen by the seconds, whose province it is to determine when
they shall commence, and when they shall terminate their contest,
the surgeon, and finally a few friends of the parties, who are usu
ally invited as witnesses. The dress consists of very thick gloves,
which come almost to the elbows ; and of a leathern jacket corres
ponding with a breast plate, which is so stuffed and padded that a
sword cannot penetrate it. This descends below the hips, and
guards every vital part of the body. Nothing but the face is thus
exposed ; as if this were the only part of the person, worthy of
being ornamented with scars. At this they aim all their blows, as
it is considered unworthy of a Bursch to strike at the legs of his
opponent. The seconds are arrayed in the same costume as the
combatants. They place themselves on each side of their friends
with drawn swords, and ward off those blows which defy the skill
of the principals. Although not in the thickest of the affray, they
not unfrequently receive wounds themselves.
A duelling code is established here, by which all the students are
governed. I have not yet been able to procure it, but have been
informed of some of the laws. From them as well as from descrip
tions of such scenes from eye witnesses, I shall be able to give you
an idea of such a combat. If the offence is trifling, they strike a
certain number of blows, I think it is twelve, and if no blood flows,
they shake hands and separate. If the offence is of greater mag
nitude, they continue fighting until one of them is wounded, or
until they have struck twelve times twelve. During a lono- contest,
which results from an equality of skill on the part of the combat-

DUELLING. 53
ants, they occtisionally stop to recover their breath, and after a few
minutes respite, they commence again with new ardour, continuing
the strife in some instances half an hour, before either of the
parties is wounded. Whenever blood is visible, the umpire imme
diately orders a suspension of arms. The surgeon then examines
the wound. If it is two inches in length, and opens of itself one-
fourth of an inch, the duel ceases ; as a wound of these dimensions
is considered ample satisfaction for any offence, which Can be
atoned for by the sword. 'The parties then become friends, the
grasp of the hand being the sign of reconcilliation ; and leaving
the wounded student with the surgeon, they repair to town, pro
vided as is usually the case, the duel is fought at a little dis
tance from it.
Many of the students here, are horribly hacked, and nOt a small
number of them carry on their faces the scars of many a duel.
It not unfrequently happens that these wounds transform a very
fine face almost into deformity. Instances have occurred where
both eyes have been put out by a too well directed blow ; in others
the nose* has been cut off, or the jaw has been so wounded as never
to recover from it. Within a short time, one of the students has
lost his nose ; another an eye ; while others haVe been so hacked
as to be disfigured for life. They seem as proud of these scars as
an old Roman warrior, apparently believing that their reputation
for courage will be in proportion to their number and size. I have
been informed by those who have had every opportunity to form a
correct estimate, that more than two hundred of these duels have
been fought here diiring the present term.f Among the stddenty I
* You probably have heard that artificial noses are made in Europe. One
of the Heidelberg students who had lost this member in such a contest, pro
cured one, which was in his opinion a very respectable nose. While fishing
in the Rhine, as he looked over the side of the boat to watch his nibbles, this
ornament unfortunately dropped into the stream, and ^as lost forever. I
received this anecdote from one of the Leipzig students, who had no doubt of
the truth Of it.
t There are two semesters a year, about four and a half mojiths each. The
remaining three months no lectures are given. Some of the professors com
mence their lectures a week and even ten days earlier, and continue them aa
much longer than others. Consequently students in some of the departments,
remain a short time, after those in others have left Gottingen for their homes.

54 GOTTINGEN.
have two acquaintances, one of whom during this period, has
fought seven and the other six times. ^These are not very rare
instances. It is currently reported, that another has sent and re
ceived eighteen challenges, which are to be cancelled by as many
duels the approaching Semester or term.
The thirst for acquiring distinction, by fighting, and by getting
into rows with the police, with the Philistines and with each other,
attracts many young men to these universities ; who reside here
for no other object than to pass their time as pleasantly za possi
ble, with the intention of leaving behind them the brilliant repu
tation of a genuine Bursch. While here, their hours are passed in
fencing, riding, smoking, drinking beer, and fighting, and in all
these accomplishments, they take the lead. This class which may
form perhaps a tenth part of the students, make more noise, and
figh t more duels, unless there is a quarrel between the Landsmanns
chaften than all the others. They are the men who always stand
ready to dispute the pavement with you, and Sie sind ein dummer
Junge is always on the end of their tongues. They are ready to
embark in any carousal, and the Burschen. songs coining from
their throats salute your ear long after all honest persons should
be at home. These are the men at all the universities, who fill the
beer cellars with smoke, and songs, and with noise, from the loud
laugh which issues from these subterranean caverns, to the thun
dering shout with which they greet the air as they emerge into
star light. All the duellists however, are not of this character.
Some of those who fight are very peaceable and gentlemanly in
their deportment. If, however, they have the reputation of being
expert swordsmen, they are sure of being challenged by the class
of students just mentioned, who with the hope of gaining the repu
tation of wounding them in combat, cheerfully expose their faces
to the danger of receiving such honourable scars. It is very pro
bable that you may consider this picture as coloured, but it is not.
I have availed myself of every opportunity to gain correct infor
mation on this subject, by conversing with those who have lon<r
resided here. Were you to inquire of one of tlie professors, he
would probably think the estimate of the number of duels much
too large, as he woidd know of such only, as came under the
cognizance of the police. These duels are conducted with such

DUELLING. 55
secresy that not one in ten comes to the knowledge of that body,
unless until 16ng after they have terminated, and but few even then.
They are well known among the students, even days before they
occnr ; but so strictly is the custom adhered to of concealing them
from the government, that were every student of the university to
be informed that a duel would take place at a given time, the secret
would not be divulged. Were you however to inquire of any
Bursch, he would tell you that the number above mentioned was a
moderate estimate. Some with whom I have conversed, have
estimated it much higher. '
The University of Gottingen is not more distinguished in this
respect, than the similar institutions .situated in the small towns.
The students at Jena, and Heidelberg,* are considered as wild
fellows in comparison with those of this city. In Berlin and Leip
zig duels are much more rare than in the small towns, as the police;
particularly in the former city, are sufficiently numerous to keep
the students in order. The opinions of the citizens also exert an
insensible influence over them, and they thus lose some of that
uncouthness of manner which forms so prominent a feature of their
character. One would suppose that when such inflammable mate
rials go forth into the world, (for of the sixteen thousand students
now in the German universities, at least six thousand leave them
yeiarly,) they would set Germany into a blaze. This is far from
being the case. The students at Paris, after fighting the gendarmes,
as they do at the funeral of every French patriot, and on every
occasion where there is hope of success, embark in active life, and
settle down into quiet, peaceable subjects ; never exhibiting more
ire than is seen in a blast of words against the ministry, or in a
commendation of Napoleon. Like them, the German students
return home, and soon commence their professions ; and leaving
all their love of noise behind them, pass down the current of time,
in peace with all mankind. They do not even indulge their feel-
* In the month of September, 1826, 1 descended the Rhine in company with
half a dozen students from Heidelberg. I asked them how many duels had
been fought at Heidelberg, during the term which had just closed. They all
agreed, that there had been at least three hundred during the four and a half
months. There were at that time less than seven hundred students in that
university.

50 GOTTINGEN.
ings of opposition to the government, or, at least, they do not ex
press them. They receive even the humble offices which the mi
nisters deign to give them, with the greatest gratitude, and speak
of their duels and blusterings while, in the university, as the extre
mity of folly.* ;
The noisy, fighting Burschen, whose numbers are from one hun
dred and fifty to two hundred, form a body quite distinct from the
great majority |0f the students. Besides this class, there are two
others. Of these, the first are yOung men of fortune, who come
here and remain two or three years, because no gentleman is thought
to have completed his education who has not remained several years
at a university. They are not very studious, but still derive not a
little benefit from such a residence, it being impossible for any
man, not even for the wildest Bursch, to be in the literary atmos
phere of one of the German universities, without inhaling know
ledge. The second class are students, properly so called, who
form a great majority of the young"men residing here. They belong
principally to the poor and middling classes of society, who are
stimulated by the spur of necessity, and by a deep and ever active
passion for learning. They are forced by the laws of opinion, to
fight a duel occasionally, perhaps two or three times during their
residence at these institutions ; but these are only momentary
interruptions. By them they are regarded as necessary evils, and
from such combats they return to their studies with new ardour.
Very many of thern pass three or four hours a day in the lecture
rooms, and while at their own rooms they improve their time, as
if resolved to be foremost in the race. The rich treasures of the
library are within their reach, and these, by assiduous application,
they make their own.
Gottingen still retains its distinguished rank among the universi
ties of this country, at least if we may form an opinion from tlie
number of its students. They amount, at the present time, to almost
sixteen hundred ; a greater number than are fomid at any other,
* This account of the duels of the students in this imiversity, was written six
months before I met with Russel's Tour in Germany. His account of the
combats of the Burschen of Jena, corresponds with tliat I have here given. The
resemblance between his description of the students, and my own, is not greater
than must necessarily exist between two delineations of tho same subject.

UNIVERSITY. 57
those of Berlin and Vienna excepted. The former has, within a
few years, risen with astonishing rapidity to the first rank among
the schools of science; the latter, from its being in the populous
capital of a large empire, presents such facilities to students pur
suing medicine and some other branches, that it must of necessity
(even subjected as the professors are to the noxious influence of
Austrian politics) rise numerically to the first rank. Leipzig,
Prague, and Halle, have from eleven to thirteen hundred each-
After these come Bonn, Heidelberg, Tiibingen, &.c.
This university, which bears the name of Georgia Augusta, was
founded in the year 1734, by George the second of England. In
its erection no expense was spared, and the most distinguished
savans in Germany^ were invited to the professorial chair. ' Such
inducements were presented to them, tJiat in a short time it boasted
of a greater number of learned men, than almost any other institu
tion of this country. Two years after the university was founded,
Haller was appointed professor of anatomy. His extensive repu
tation soon drew a great number of students to this city ; and by
his labours, and by those of his companions, its fame, as a medical
school, was extended throughout Europe. Michaelis, "the prince
of orientalists," as De Ro~ssi calls him, wus invited here eleven years
after. The reputation of Gottingen in oriental literature soon sur
passed every other university in this country ; and students came
from the remotest parts of Germany to attend his lectures.
Through his exertions, Frederick V. of Denmark was induced to
Send Niebuhn to Syria and Arabia, for the purpose of gaining in
formation on the actual state of those coutitries. The famous ques
tions which Michaelis gave him at that time, have always been
regarded by the orientalists of Europe, as exhibiting a research,
rarely equalled in the history of eastern literature. Heyne, who
succeeded the celebrated linguist Gessner, in the department of
classic literature, greatly extended the fame of this institution.
These professors, with Kastner, Lichtenberg, Tobias, Meyer, Mos-
heim, and many others, by their indefatigable efforts, and their
extensive learhing gave a celebrity to this university, which for a
long period was unequalled by that of any other in Germany.
The rapid rise of this institution, as well as that of Berlin, pre
sents, in a striking manner, the facility of diffusing literature

58 GOTTINGEN.
through a country where the schools are provided with funds ade
quate to command talent, and with the materiel of learning. Miinch-
hausen, who was the Hanoverian minister of George II. when this
university was founded, not only possessed most enlarged views on
the subject of education, but a thorough knowledge of all the means
necessary to effect an object so dear to him. The estabhshment of
the Academy at Berlin, as well as the flourishing state of the uni
versities of Germany, excited in his mind a desire to see something
done to elevate Hanover to the same literary rank as her neighbours.
Before this period, this kingdom, intellectually speaking, was infe
rior to many of the neighbouring states. To effect this object, this
able minister, with the full approbation of his sovereign, spared no
expense to place this infant institution on a foundation superior to
any of those then existing in Germany. He perfectly realised, that
Avhatever the professors might be, the students would make hmited
progress without the materiel of literature ; and his first effort was
to procure a library worthy of a university. Instead of lumbering
the shelves with monkish traditions, and obsolete theology, those
works only were purchased which were in the highest degree use
ful as books of reference. A very large sum was annually appro
priated to this object, which being augmented wdth the increasing
number of students, the'library soon presented a valuable collection
of works in every branch of learning. He procured also cabinets
of science, and there was, in a shorttime, no branch of instruction
that did not feel his patronage. Whenever he discovered men of
superior talent, he invited them to his new institution ; and when
once established there, he made them not only his o^vn friends, but
from the facilities which the university presented for pursuing their
studies, they soon became so attached to it, as rarely, if ever, to leave
it for another. To place it on the best footing, he carried on a cor
respondence With the most distinguished scholars of Germany ;
with the double object of placing them in its chairs, whenever
vacancies occurred, and of receiving from them all that information
so necessary to its modelling and perfection. The professors had
previously received but a very limited support. He increased
their salaries,' and placed them on a footing of comparative inde
pendence, so that they could apply all their power to the great
objects before them. During the tliirty-lwo years that he was

MiiNCHHAUSEN. 59
curator of this school of learning, he was indefatigable in his efforts
to promote its prosperity. Long before his death he had the
satisfaction of beholding Gottingen taking the first rank among the
universities of his country, and enrolling among its professors some
of the first men of the age. The same liberal course was pursued
by his successors, and this institution continued, for a long period
after his death, the wonder and admiration of Germany- '
In this university, as in most others in Europe, there are four Fa
culties, or departments. The professors are divided into two classes.
Ordinary and Extraordinary. The former receive from the go
vernment a salary, never less than eight hundred, and rarely more
than two thousand rix dollars, for they are paid in proportion to
their reputation. When the fame of a professor has extended
throughout Germany, and still more wheii it has become Euro
pean, his name alone, particularly if he belongs to one of the pro-r
fessional departments; often adds some hundreds to the number of
students. Hugo and Eichhorn the son, in the legal department
here, Gesenius in the theological at Halle, and Sevignfe in the legal
at Berlin, by their European reputation, have become to a consi
derable degree, identified with the prosperity of the institutions
where they reside. As every university in Germany has the right
of inviting the professors of any other to one of her chairs, such
scholars as I have just named, ai-e constantly receiving invitations
from other institutions, accompanied with the most flattering pe
cuniary offers. Even monarchs sometimes write to them, making
proposals which few would decline accepting, if the governments
under whose jurisdiction they reside, did not counteract them by
making others still more advantageous. Such professors have of
course the power in their own hands, and there are few who do not
make use of it. In no other country are literary men thus thrown
as it were into the market; and struck off to the highest bidder.
There are at the present time eighty-nine professors arid teachers
in this university. The theological department is divided into
ecclesiastical history, exegesis of Greek and Oriental literature,
and polemic theology. The legal includes, civil, criminal, Roman,
German law, &c. To the medical, in addition to those branches
usually connected with it, is added Natural History. Under the
philosophical, all those professors are engaged, who do not belong ,

60 GOTTINGEN.
to one of the above mentioned classes, and even some of those
whom we should assign to the faculty of theology. In this almost
universal department as it should be called, are included Exegesis
in Hebrew, Persian, Greek, Latin, English, French, Italian, and
Spanish literature. Statistics, modern and ancient History, Politi
cal Economy, Philosophy, Mathematics, Astronomy, Politics, My
thology, the Fine Arts, Logic ; and in some of the universities to
this belong also Chemistry, Mineralogy, Entomology, Lectures on
the old German-poets, and on the Gothic language. You will pro
bably ask what most of these subjects have to do with philosophy.
To this I can only reply, that when used in reference to the univer
sities in the most extended sense, it means almost every subject,
excepting, law, theology, and medicine, which has occupied the hu
man mind since the reign of alchymy ended. The Ordinary profes
sors give, or at least are expected to give, one course of lectures
gratis ; though not more than half of them do it. They have the
privilege of delivering as many private courses as they please, for
which they receive a Frederick, d'or from each student, for each
course that he attends.
For a long period after the establishment of this university, it
was the -custom not only here but elsewhere, for allthe professors
to deliver lectures gratis. They received but a limited support, as
their salaries were then much smaller than at the present time.
Michaelis opened a course of private lectures, and met with such
pecuniary success, that his example- was soon followed, in other
schools. To secure the greatest possible income, and still comply
with the laws, they make the least interesting course public, and
those which are the most valuable pri\Tite. The public lectures,
which were at first delivered four or five times a week, soon dwin
dled to two and even one lecture weekly. Within a few years,
many have entirely abandoned their public courses, and no student
now attends their lectures without paying his Frederic d'or. From
their private lectures they are very handsomely rewarded, when
they possess talent and an extensive reputation, and their receipts
are exactly in proportion to their fame. There are two semestres,
or terms, in each year. The lectures commence ten minutes after
the sound of the clock, and terminate the moment it strikes ; the
professor detaining them no longer than lo finish his sentence.

FACULTIES. 61
To a greater delay they would not submit, not even to finish his
paragraph, as it might prevent them from reaching the lecture
room of some other professor ; it being considered indecorous for
a student to enter after he has commenced.
Many of- the professors give two and three distinct courses, and
cases have been known where they have given foyr. Most of these
include four or five lectures per week, during four .months and a
half. From the receipts of their private lectures, united with their
salaries, some of the most distinguished professors, particularly
those in the legal departments, receive five or six thousand dollars
per annum. One or two of them have a still larger income, for
they have not unfrequently from two to three hundred auditors at
each course. The income even of these will not exceed that of
many of the Oxford and Cambridge professors, .some of whom do
not deliver a dozen lectures yearly. This is a striking exhibition,
of the difference which necessity produces, in the efforts even of
literary men.
The legal faculty embraces more talent than the medical or the
ological, and is thought superior to that of any other university of
Germany. More than half of the students belong to this depart
ment. At the head of this stand Hugo, and Eichhorn the son,
whose fame, is now little inferior to that of his father. In theolo
gy, Gottingen formerly surpassed every other university of this
country. As most of the professors are now advanced in life,
and as it is generally thought that they have not kept pace with
the progress of this scienfce in Germany, this department does not
maintain its former reputation. The fame of Gesenius, De Wette,
Rosenmijller, and Schleiermacher, have attracted to the cities where
they reside, many of the students, who would otherwise have come
here. The medical faculty is in higher repute, embracing some men of
distinguished talents, among whom is Langenbeck. The Germans
boast of him as being the first surgeon in the world, though to this
opinion the English and JParisian surgeons would undoubtedly
demur. Unfortunately for this branch of instruction, Gottingen
is too small to afford the facilities necessary for a complete educa
tion in medicine and surgery. There is but one hospital, and that
is confined to one branch of disease. There is also a comparative

62 GOTTINGEN.
deficiency in the practical part of anatomy and surgery, not merely
in relation to dissections, but to anatomical cabinets. Though the
Germans have had many very able physicians and surgeons, their
schools of medicine have rarely attracted students from abroad.
With the exception of those of Beriin, Breslau, Konigsburg, Prague
and Vienna, they are all in small towns the largest of which, Leip-
zigj does not contain over forty thousand inhabitants, while most
of them are Uttle if any superior to Gottingen in population.
Even the capitals of Austria and Prussia are not yet large enough to
present any thing like the same advantages to the medical student,
as those which he enjoys in the French metropolis, notwithstanding
this department has always received the peculiar patronage of the
governments. Those of Paris are so great, that the student has
nothing to wish for, particularly in relation to the number and
divisions of the hospitals, and the numerous means which are
within his reach, to perfect himself in surgery and anatomy. Ac
cordingly we find young men from Brazil, and the United States,
to the Wolga, and from the Morea to Finland, resorting to the
medical school of Paris, to enjoy those facilities which no other
city presents, to acquire a thorough knowledge of their profession.
In oriental literature, with the exception of Hebrew, this institu
tion, as weir as every other in Germany, is decidedly inferior to
that of Paris, which not merely in this department, but in medicine,
and also in most of the physical sciences, is without a parallel in
the history of literature. It is true that there are many more ori
entalists in Germany than in France, probably several times as
many ; but they are residing in twenty-two universities, including
those of Kiel and Basle, while most of the French savans make
Paris their place of residence. There are several of their institu
tions also in France, but for centuries the French government has
made great exertions to give an eclat to that of the metropolis.
As literature has always shed the greatest lustre over a capital,
the monarchs of France have made the university of Paris, the
recipient of most of their patronage. This partial distribution of
their favours, has given a gigantic magnitude to that institution,
when contrasted with those situated in the provinces, and even
with most others in Europe. Germany having no capital, and
being iMvided into tliirty or forty independent states, can never

PROFESSORS. 63
possess any one university, which as a whole can compare with
that of the French metropolis, although there are five or six times
as many profound scholars here as in France, and the materiel of
literature is several times as extensive.
The German professors are as a body the most indefatigable
students in the worid. They are not, like the French and Italian
literati, social in their habits. They reside chiefly in small towns,
where there is little without to attract them. They conse£[uently
find it much easier than their western neighbours, to pass fifteen
or sixteen hours a day in their lecture rooms, and in the society of
folios. Even those residing in the large cities have abquired such
habits of application, that they are almost as ignorant of the amuse
ments around them, as strangers. In most of the cities where they
reside, there are no intellectual foci, like the Institute and the
numerous literary and scientific societies, which form so many
mental groups at Paris. A Frenchman is born for society, and
nothingbut an ardent love for literature, united with long habits of
application, will make him so independent of the living, as to be
willing to converse only with the mighty dead. A German scholar
from his retired life, finds society a burden, and never does he feel
more at his ease, than when surrounded by his auditors or his
manuscripts. ' It is true that some of the French literati are rarely
if ever surpassed even by the Germans in application, but as a body,
they do not exhibit that intensity of research, that you find in the
students east of the Rhine. The professors of the university of
Paris rarely give more than four lectures a week, some of them
only two, and several but one. They receive a fixed salary, and
after their appointment, they have no motive to application but
their love of study and of fame. Those of the Germanuniversities
are not only influenced by these considerations, but also by another,
which is all-powerful, the desire of acquiring property. Few
minds ever become so purely intellectual, as not to be stimulated
by the pleasures and comforts which wealth brings in its train,
and certainly not that of a German professor, whose reputation in
the eyes of the government, is measured not a little by the number
of auditors who frequent his lecture room. ' The students are en
tirely unrestrained in their' studies ; attending those lectures, and
those only, which interest them. They can even absent themselves

64 GOTTINGEN.
from all, without being called to an account, unless after a year or
more of total idleness, they may perhaps be advised to leave the
university. It is consequently indispensable to their fame, as well
as to their pecuniary comfort, that they should rise at least to re-
spectabihty in their departments. This additional impulse calls
forth all those powers, which a love of literature or of fame had not
awakened. They apply themselves to their studies with an ardour
which insures them a victory over difficulty ; and enables them to
present their opinions in a most interesting hght. The effect of
this is a numerous audience, deeply attentive to their instructions,
and treasuring in their note books, their most valuable thoughts.
The professors, of whom I have heard a considerable number,
deliver their lectures from copious notes. They have usually a
dull delivery, and rarely if ever rise to eloquence Their intense
application, their seclusion from society, and if we may believe
Madame de Stael, something also in their climate, (for she says
that time appears to march more slowly here than elsewhere,)
prevent most of them from rising above a singing monotonous tone
in their utterance, and from catching the inspiration of their sub
ject. They present an abundance of fact and argument, but never
make you glow with ehthusiasm. In this respect they are the an
tipodes of the French, whose language is meagre in comparison.
I have seen some of the professors of the university of Paris, par
ticularly Messrs. Villemain and Andrieux, the former at the Sor-
bonne, the latter at the college royal, keep their audience in breath
less silence for many minutes. Inspired by tliis riveted attention,
they poured forth a stream of eloquence, which carried every
auditor along with-it, bearing down every objection, and forcing
¦every mind to yield its assent. At the conclusion of such a strain,
the lecture room was filled with shouts of " bravo, bravissimo,"
which were prolonged for many minutes. The excitement produ
ced by this " blaze of genius and this burst of thought," was so
great, that they were under the necessity of continuing their dis
course in the midst of applauses, which ceased only because their
hearers were unwilUng to lose the connecting chain of thought.
It reminded me of the effect ascribed to the eloquence of Cicero,
in the Roman forum, and to thrilling emotions excited by the ad
dresses of the great Hendrick among his heroic warriors. I have

PROFESSORS. 65
never seen greater effects produce^ by Talma, or Mademoiselle
Mars, than by these gentlemen, or beheld the faces of a thousand
auditors glowing with higher admiration. That they would have
excited equal ardour in a German audience, is not probable. Could
they have lectured in German, which is the richest and noblest
language of Europe, they would have, roused their comparatively
cold hearers, to at least a positive degree of excitement. ,i The
great reason why the French ^pro fessors are eloquent, is,- that they
lecture extempore. Feeling, as almost all Frenchmen do, a
perfect freedom from embarrassment, and daring consequently to
eye their audience, they behold with increasing pleasure the thou
sand faces which they are, lighting up with animation, and kindle
into a glow of eloquence no less surprising to themselves, than to
their hearers. Had the French orators a language worthy of their
minds, if they did not rise to -a .higher elevation of thought, they
would at least produce a greater-effect than any speakers, who have
ever addressed an audience, since the Roman forum has ceased
to make the heavens ring with the name of Cicero.
The German savans are not eloquent, because their life of
seclusion removes therti so far from the hearts of others, that they
never know what strings they should touch to agitate the feelings
of their audience. Some of them also- are like Faust, when about
commencing, with Mephistopheles, his new course of life.
Ich wuste nie micli in die Welt zu schicken,
, Vor andern fiihl' ich mich .so klein ;
Ich werde stets verlegen seyn.
. r '
Others, if they are not equally embarrassed, do not feel any
enthusiasm at the sight of their auditors. The great majority of
them keep their eyes, most of the time, on their books or notes ;
and if, for a moment, they attempt to speak from feeling, they soon
return to them, not daring to venture far from the shore. This
unfortunate custom of lecturing from books, and reading their
manuscripts, which prevails so generally in the German univer
sities, has been the ruin of eloquence in these institutions. The
fault is not in the students, it is in the professors. Even to their
dry arguments and facts, tlie former give the most minute attention,
10 ^

G6 GOTTINGEN.
and any one who should warm with his subject, would make them
kindle with enthusiasm, as the history qf Germany, during the
years 1813 and 1814, proves conclusively. Messieurs Villemain
and Andrieux, to whom reference has been made, were, in every
instance that I heard them, lecturing on subjects which were purely
literary : for example, on the beauties of the Britanicus of Racine,
of the Telemaque of Fenelon, or were explaining the general
principles of literature, and the proper manner of studying belles
lettres. How many subjects, worthy of such minds, does the Index
Lectionum of a German university present ! Could the professors
throw off their embarrassment, and feel like men; with their
profound and extensive views of their subjects, they would animate
the faces of their hearers with a glow of admiration.
In describing this university, I have spoken only of the ordinary
professors. The next, and the inferior class, are called extraordinary.
They receive a very limited salary from the government, not
enough to support them, even in celibacy. They also deliver lectures
on what subjects they please, for which they receive from their
auditors the same fees as their brethren above them. This station
is a stepping stone to the ordinary professorship, but one on which
they have usually to_ rest from eight to ten years, and, if not active
in their pursuits, for life. A,s they select their own subjects, they
often become the rivals-of their older brethren, who are compelled
frequently to gird themselves anew for the race, or see themselves not
only overtaken, but left behind. Of the beneficial effects of this
arrangement, no one can doubt who has passed a fortnight at a
German university.
There is also a third class, who are called lecturers or teachers,
which, I believe, is peculiar to the German universities. Students,
who have completed their course, and Avho aim at a professor's
chair, usually remain several years at the institution, pursuing some
particular department of literature or science, with the intention
of eventually giving lectures. They tlien make application to
the government, for permission to deliver a course. On being
examined and found qualified, they are enrolled on the humble hst
of teachers. They commence their career under circumstances
sufficiently gloomy to discourage any one, who is not influenced by
an intense Ipve of literature and fame. Before them they see the

PROFBSSOBS. 67
extraordinary professors rising to eminence, while the rooms of
most of the older teachers are thronged. Whatever their talents
may be, they have to lay the foundation of their reputation, and
that, too, against rivals whose fame is sometimes European. Years
roll away, and they see their lecture rooms only here and there
attended by auditors. Most of them are in indigent circumstances,
and with all the inconveniences of poverty, they often flnd that the
receipts from their lectures, even for years, do not, equal the annual
rent of their rooms. Without any resources, they would abandon
their employment in despair, were they not able, as private
instructers, to gain enough to prevent the lamp of life from being
extinguished. For a very moderate compensation, they devote
three or four hours a day to the instruction of as many students in
languages, or in their particular provinces, and not unfrequently
toil on in this manner for years, when the death of a rival lecturer,
or some fortiinate circumstance, fills their rooms with students, for
a time at least, and thus brings them into notice. They are now
no longer under the necessity of losinga large part of their time
in this course of instruction, but devoting all their hours to their
particular department, they advance rapidly. The sufferings;
which they must of necessity experience, during the first five or
six years of their progress, are enough to depress the most coura
geous minds. Fortunately for them, there is one medium of
appearing before the public, where they will meet with justice,
viz. the press. To this most of them resort, and before they have
been occupied many years as lecturers, some ponderous octavo is
published, in which, not unfrequently, eight or ten . languages
appear in the form of illustration, If the work has merit, it
receives its due commendations in some dozen or more of the
literary journals of this country; and the author is immediately
regarded, by those around him, as a new star of greater or less
brilliancy, just rising above the literary' horizon. A single work of
this description, not unfrequently procures for a lecturer the
extraordinary chair, sometimes evBn the offer of it from several
Universities. There are two other establishments connected with this institu
tion, which are probably peculiar to those of this country ; the
object of which is to improve the health of the students, as well as

68 GOTTINGEN.
to qualify those who design to enter the army for their future
profession. During the war with France, the German cavalry
usually found themselves inferior to their enemies. To remedy
this ef il, a new department was established in each of the univer.
sities, to instruct the students in every thing relating, not merely
to riding, but to the government and management of horses. In
the hippodrome, which is a large edifice, those students who intend
entering the army, as well as others, exercise one or more hours
daily. Two professors are connected with this department ; one
of whom gives lectures on the government of horses, the other on
the amatomy and-physiology of that animal, as well as of all others
which^ are made use of in agriculture. This, department of
instruction is very popular with many of the students, and is
generally considered indispensable to a good preparation for the
army. The fencing school, which forms the second additional depart
ment to which I have I'eferred, is very much patronised, not only
by those who intend entering the army, but by most of the stu
dents who expect to be under the necessity of fighting a duel. The
duellists make this school the principal- place of resort, and here
pferfect themselves in the use of the broadsword. To excel here,
is more important to them than become the ablest exeget, or jurist,
in the university. The proficiency they make often excites the
desire of putting their skill to practise, which is easily gratified
by insulting the first student they meet. This school has thus
become , one of the great sources of duelling, and it is surprising
that it has not been long since abolished on this account.
The library of Gottingen is universally acknowledged to be the
most valuable in Germany. In the number of volumes it is infe
rior only to those of Vienna and Munich: in manuscripts, of
which there are but five thousand, it is surpassed by several. This
country contains a greater number of large libraries than any
other. In truth, every day's ride presents you a new one, of
which almost every metropolis ^vould be proud, if not foi" the
number of the volumes, yet certainly for their value. Munchhau-
sen, during his administration, had his eye constantly fixed on
the library of this institution, and spared no expense in procuring
all those valuable works of every language, which the resouixet

LIBRARY. 69
of Hanover -could purchase. In a few years it increased to fifty
thousand volumes. Some of the most distinguished professors
have been librarians, and at the present time, the principal em
ployment of one of them, is to discover through the medium of
domestic and foreign journals,^ all the valuable works which
appear in Europe and America, that they may be purchased for
the library. From its foundation, they have pursued the plan of
purchasing cheap editions, that they might increase as far as pos
sible its literary value. While the resources of other libraries
have often been expended to gratify the eye with,splendid speci
mens of typography, the directors of this have been influenced
solely by intellectual beauty. Not only almost all the valuable
works which have been published in Europe, during the last seventy
years, but most of those also which have appeared since the inven
tion of printing, are now to be found on its shelves. Probably
no library existed which was so free from literary trash, no one
which in valuable printed works could compare with this. To
procure those books which are most valuable to the student, has
been ,their only aim, and if any ephemeral publications have found
their way to its saloons, they came here only through the> medium
of donation. Every useful work in whatever language it may be
written, soon finds a place here. , The number of books in foreign
languages is many times, greater than in German, notwithstanding
the prodigious fertility of the frerma^n press. By this judicious
course, it has acquired a reputation which is hardly surpassed by
that of the Vatican or by la Bibliothhque Royale, and though infe
rior to these in the number of its volumes, it is regarded as supe
rior to them. in value, and to every other in the world. Ninety-
one years since, the first volume of this library was purchased ;
at the present time there are three hundred thousand, the brightest
productions, of the hujnan mind. Almost one hundred and fifty
years ago, the library of Yale College was founded : there are now
eight thousand volumes. Hanover, during that time, has been
exposed to frequent wars ;;. has been compelled to maintain in
peace and war, a large army for its defence ; and has often had to
support those of her enemies and her allies. In peace and in
war, she has groaned under the burden of a taxation, which we
only know by the hearing of the ear. It is a country which is

70 GOTTINGHN.
poor in proportion to its population, when compared with Con
necticut, and ^till its government, during less than a century, has
raised this noble monument of literature. That of Connecticut
has not added two thousand volumes to the Ubrary of Yale.
What a melancholy contrast does this present to every liberal
man ! When will the time come that we shall begin to feel the
importance of doing something for the mind ? How long must our
students hunger for literary nourishment, and not be filled ? When
will the increase of our libraries be thought as important as the
construction of a new turnpike, as digging a canal, or draining- a
marsh, or any of the other physical improvements, which elicit so
much eloquence on the floors of our State houses, and attract
the gaze of thousands.
The richness of this library cannot be realised by one who has
not often examined it. A few promenades through its numerous
and noble saloons, will give a stranger an idea of its magnitude ;
but tobecome acquainted with its wonderful value, it is necessary
to pass weeks, and' even months, in the examination. There are
few works, which have interested the literary world, since flie
invention . of printing, that cannot be found here. Do you wish
to write, for example, a history of Spain, Portugal, Italy, France,
or England 1 You Will not only find here most of the valuable
works, in the language of the country whose history you are
writing, but thpse in every other also. Independently of that
assistance which one derives from consulting manuscripts, and
from mingling with a people, which every historian should do, in
order to become acquainted with the institutions of the countrj-,
and their influence in forming the character of the nation ; he
could write, in some respects, a better history here, than in the
capital of the kingdom. Are you, for example, writing a history
of Spain, you not only find most of the valuable Spanish histo
rians, but the very best French, English, Italian, and Portuguese
works on this subject ; an assistance which the Spanish historian
would search for in vain in the royal library of IMadrid, or the
English, French, or ItaUan, in those of the Bodleian, the Royal,
or the Ambrosian. The same remark is equally apphcable to the
histories of literature of almost every age, to the fine arts, to
classic literature, and hi fact, to almost every subject which has

LIBRARY. 71
interested mankind. Though the other libraries of Germany are
not equally rich in foreign literature, they are still sufficiently so,
to exhibit a most inviting prospect to the student. In consequence
of the immense resources which these libraries present, we find
the literati of Germany, embarking in the investigations of new
subjects, before which most minds shrink, and entering on their
course with a courage superior to fear, and an ardour which
seldom tires. From this cause proceeds that very extensive
knowledge of languages, which you discover, in the works, and
illustrations of so many of the professors. They are not satisfied
merely with the opinions of their countrymen, on the subjects
which they are investigating, but to acquire the views -of foreign
scholars and writers, they learn new languages, undismayed by
the difficulties they present. From the richness of their libra
ries results that astonishing subdivision of labour, you find in the
Index Lectionum of the universities. They thus become literary •
cosmopolites. N.o river, no chain of mountains, is to them a
boundary; but crossing oceans, and sealing Uralian and. Caucasian
summits, their minds explore the intellectual regions of the Andes,
and the Cordilleras, of the Tigris and' the Nile. From tljeir early
education at the gymnasia, and still more at the university, they
become divested of those prejudices so frequent among Frenchmen
and Americans, that their native languages contain- most of the
treasuries of the mind. With a literature, richer than almost any
country in Europe, they despise those localities of feeling which
make most nations as ignorant of each other's language, as of that
of a distant planet. To their minds, there is no exclusive country,
bounded by rivers or mountains, or imaginary lines ; their home
is the intellectual world. Here they live, and feel, and act, and
hail as a friend, whoever has enlarged the boundaries, of real or
ideal existence ;- under whatever religious or political despotism
he may have been born, or whether he was educated on the Ohio
or the Ganges.
The arrangement of this library is not only superior to any
I have seen in Europe, but I know not how it is possible, to
improve it. One saloon is devoted to history, another to medicine,
another to the Greek classics, to law, or to theology, &c. Take,
for instance, the saloon of history, in which the- best histprical

73 GOTTINGEN.
works and memoirs relating to countries, ancient and modern, are
assembled. All those written in German occupy one series of
shelves ; those in English, another ; those, in French, a third.
These are subdivided into the histories of the different countries.
All the German histories of Germany, of Greece, of Rome, of
England, &.c. ate ranged together in reference to the countries,
and placed according to the time of their publication. The histories
of other countries are arranged in a similar manner. In the
theological, the medical, the classical, and other departments, the
works are arranged after their subjects, with all the subdivisions
which they will allow. Knowing the title of a work, you can, of
course, immediately find it. The great simplicity of this arrange
ment recommends itself to every one. I hope, some centuries
hence, that some one, at least, of our libraries may be sufficiently
extensive, to make a similar arrangement necessary.
There are two catalogues of this library. The first is- like those
found in all others, a list i of the titles; the other is pecuUar,
I believe, to this collection. It is a list of all the subjects, alpha
betically arranged, with references to the chapter and section. If,
for example,, you wish to write a history of the commerce of the
Tyrians, you look for the word Commerce. Here you wUl see
the different nations from A. in succession ; and, having arrived at
Tyre, you will find references to all the works in the library which
treat of this subject. With such facilities, how much time is saved !
With such a library, and such catalogues, the student, if he does
not discover " a royal road to learning," finds, after he has become
familiar with many languages, that her paths are covered with
flowers. There is here none of that thirsting after knowledge
which every student feels in our country, ¦without discovering any
thing to allay the fever of desire. Here he finds a home for his
mind. The intellectual fruits of every age, and of every clime, are
here assembled ; the productions of the Ganges and the Tagus,
of Ispahan, of Arabia, and of Europe, are spread before him.
The songs of Hafiz, and of the poets of Palestine, and of Arabia,
charm him with their oriental beaut)'-, and alternate in their power
over his mind, with, the odes of Pindar and of Klopstock. Distant
ages here riSe into new life, and remote countries spread their
variegated beauties around him. Wherever he wanders, he finds

LIBRARY. 73
a new prospect opening to his view, adorned with every variety ;
and in this almost fairy land he continues during life, constantly
searching for new objects of beauty, and finding them, if his heart
is right with God and man, sufficiently numerous to satisfy the
enthusiasm of the most ardent mind.
In the centre of the saloons of the library, are tables and chairs
for those of the students who wish to consult books. Here you
see them constantly occupied in examining those works, which they
do not wish to take to their rooms. The library is accessible
every day in the week, Sunday excepted. On Wednesday and
Saturday, it is open two hours, on other days but one. There are
six librarians, whose sole business is to attend upon the students,
who apply to them for books, whether for consultation or perusal.
This practice of opening the library every day, makes it almost as
valuable to the students as to the professors ; the former of whom
resort to it in great numbers, and derive from it important advan
tages. The libraries of our own colleges, one would believe, are
collected principally for the use of the professors. So ,^far as my '
knowledge extends, there is not one of them often open for consulta
tion, the chief benefit to be derived from a great collection of books.
In that of Gottingen, there are probably one hundred thousand
volumes which are not read, and never will be read by the students ;
but, as books of reference, they are invaluable, and as such they
are examined continually. They are wanted for a single fact, or
date, or argument, which is of great importance to the individual
who consults them. Many of them, probably, are never looked at
by him again during life. The possession of a single book may
thus give a new train to his thoughts, and excite a spirit of
Investigation, which may give, in some degree, a direction to the
minds of thousands. In writing a work, particularly where the
subject requires much research, an author, with such a library
before him, might wish to consult several hundred volumes, not
one of which he would entirely peruse. If he has such a library
within his reach, he cannot fail to present much that is new to his
readers. With our barren libraries, how can we ever expect to
acquire a literary reputation. We may have an abundance of
tales and novels ; but, whatever their merit may be, we shall never
find them giving us more than a transient fame out of our own
11

74 GOTTINGEN.
country. The Greek and Latin languages have been studied
more than two centuries in the United States, and ribt two critical
works on the writings of Athens and Rome, published in our
country, have been reprinted on the continent, or even in England.
Messrs. Stuart and Gibbs, and one or two others, have done, and
are now doing much, to excite a spirit of investigation, in oriental
literature; but, with such a paucity of books as the American
libraries present, their progress has been very much retarded. A
studfent without books, is like an artist without tools- He cannot,
with his sledge and dividers, transform a block into an Apollo;
but give him the necessary implements, and he will animate the
marble with every passion which ever agitated the heart of man,
or the gods of heathen mythology.
The same liberality is manifested towards the students, in
permitting them to take books from the library. They present,
to some one of the professors, a number of papers, with their
names written on them, under which he writes his own. Above
these they write the title of the book which they want, and send
it to the library. After the library is closed, the book is found,
and the next day it is sent for. In this manner, if you desire, you
may have fifty, or even a hundred; volumes out at a time, the paper
being retained as a pledge until the work is returned. In those of
the United States, no student, as far as my knowledge extends, is
permitted to take more than three books at a time, and is rarely
allowed to consult books in the library. The shackles of Uterary
custom still reign in our country with a despotic sway, unequalled
in their power by any thing I have seen in Europe, excepting
those which religious superstition has thrown over the mind. Until
they are broken ; until our libraries are increased tenfold ; until
our professors feel the stimulus of rivalry, we may look in vain
for such lights of science, as are seen in every day's ride in this
country, that shed such splendour not only over Germany, but do
much towards dispelling the darkness of distant lands.
A traveller in Germany finds it difficult to proceed a day's
journey, in any direction north of the Mayne, a\ ithout discovering
something to remind him, in the small cities tlirough which he
passes, that intellectual cultivation is an object of great importance
to the respective governments. In entering Germany from Stras-

LIBRARIES OF GERMANY. 75
burg, and travelling a few miles north, he arrives at Carlsruhe,
where a library of seventy thousand volumes unfolds its treasures.
A few hours ride brings him to Heidelberg, where he discovers
another of fifty thousand. After proceeding about thirty miles,
he enters Darmstadt, where he beholds a third, containing eighty-
five thousand ; at Mayence, another of ninety thousand ; and in
the commercial city of Frankfort, still another of one hundred
thousand volumes, evinces the noble spirit which has animated the
enlightened merchants of that city. As he leaves the latter town
for Gottingen, he stops at Giessen, not far from thirty miles, and
in this small .university he is surprised to find a collection of only
twenty thousand volumes ; but he soon learns that at Marburg,
twenty miles farther, is another of fifty-five thousand ; and at
Cassel, sixty miles from Marburg, a third, of from ninety to one
hundred thousand volumes, adorns the capital of Hesse. On
arriving at Gottingen, the next day in time to dine, he beholds
with astonishment, three hundred thousand volumes, all collected
within less than a century. Making this a central point, and
proceeding north about forty miles, he enters Wolfenbutfel, a
small town of less than seven thousand inhabitants, and learns with
no little pleasure, that the government of Brunswick has (enriched
it with a library of two hundred thousand volumes. Advancing
still north, to Hamburg, he is delighted in visiting the commercial
and city libraries, of twenty -five and eighty thousand volumes, to
discover that this mercantile city has displayed the same love of
literature as Frankfort. South-east of Gottingen, at the distance
of eighty miles, he arrives at Weimar, where a library of one
hundred and ten thousand, and at Jena, ten miles farther, another
of thirty thousand volumes, proclaim the princely spirit of the
Dukes of this little state. Leipzig is btit a short ride from the last
mentioned city. Here he observes with equal pleasure, two
libraries containing one hundred thousand ; at Halle, in Prussia,
only twenty-five miles distant, one of fifty thousand ; and at
Dresden, the capital of Saxony, a third, of two hundred and forty
thousand volumes. Proceeding to Berlin, he enters the library of
the university, containing one hundred and eighty thousand
volumes. The Konigsburg library of fifty thousand ; the large
collection at Breslau, as well as those of many of the other cities.

76

GOTTINGEN.

of Prussia, all display the patronage of the government, as well as
the love of literature which characterizes the Prussians.
Proceeding from Strasburg through Southern Germany, a similar
prospect presents itself to his view. At Freyburg he finds a
library of twenty thousand; at Tiibingen another; at Stuttgard one
of one hundred and sixteen thousand ; at Wiirzburg, a fourth of
thirty thousand ; at Erlangen, one of forty thousand ; at Landshut,
one of one hundred thousand ; and at Munich he discovers the
largest in all Germany, and the third in the world, containing
four hundred thousand volumes. On his arrival at Vienna, he finds
that a similar spirit has influenced the Austrian government, if not of
the present day, at least of a former time. There, in the four
great libraries, the Imperial, the University, the Theresian, and
the Medical Chirurgical, he discovers five hundred and ninety
thousand volumes. Proceeding north, to complete the circuit of
Germany, he is led to believe, on his arrival at Prague, that its
library of one hundred thousand volumes will do something to
dispel the ignorance which now covers Bohemia.
The thirty-one libraries above mentioned, contain more than
three million three hundred thousand volumes, or averaging one
hundred and seven thousand. The thirty-one largest Ubraries of
the United States do not contain two hundred and fifty thousand
volumes. Whence comes this great difference ? whence is it that
the little state of Hanover has collected a library in less than a
century, not only larger, but probably ten times more valuable to
the student, than all the public libraries of our country ? We are
accustomed to regard the Germans as a heavy-moulded race, as
peculiarly physical in their character, because the ignorant pea
santry, who have emigrated from this country to the United
States, have remained equally ignorant in ours. But were the
German classics to be found at our public institutions, which I
very much doubt, Cambridge library being excepted, and could we
read the language sufficiently to understand them, we should soon
discover that the term physical was much more applicable to
ourselves, than to them. In comparing German^^ m ith even Italy
or France, we shall find that the ditl'erence in this respect is very
great between these countries, and Aery much in favour of the
former. According to the Edinburgh Review, there is in France

LIBRARIES OF GERMANY. 77
one billiard room to one hundred volumes, and in Germany one to
six thousand ; a striking illustration of the comparative lovfe of
literature of the two nations. In Italy, the restraints which the
Catholic religion has placed on the mind, by its Index Expurga-
torius, have made their libraries very imperfect in all those works
which relate to civil and religious liberty, and, in truth, in relation
to those of most foreign languages, that were not written ii^ defence
of the Catholic religion. At Pisa, I searched in vain in the
university library for works written in* the German language. I
could not discover even a volume of their classical authors on the
shelves, and, on inquiry, ascertained that they did not belong to
it. We have in our own country what is equivalent to such an
index ; the strong prejudice that so universally exists against the
literature of other nations.
Whence comes this difference between Germany and other nations ?
It doubtless results, in a very considerable degree, from the
impulse which the Protestant religion gave to the public mind in
the northern part of this country. The efforts of Luther and
Melancthon to improve the school^ and gymnasia, as well as the
spirit of investigation which they fexcited, has been felt from age
to age, and the effect will, probably, continue to the end of time.
But this does not satisfactorily account for the love of knowledge,
and the intellectual fertility which prevail here. More progress
has been made here in literature, during the last seventy-five
years, than in any country, whatever, in the same space of time.
There are now every year, more valuable new works issuing from
its press, than from those of all continental Europe. Germany has
become, literally, " la patrie de la pensee," in a manner which
excites the astonishment of all who behold it. There must be a
cause for this. What that is, I shall now endeavour to inform you.
The foundation of the university of Gottingen, and the rapid
rise of that institution, both resulting almost exclusively, from the
enlarged views and liberal heart of Miinchhausen, attracted universal
observation. The directors of the other universities, found it
necessary to increase the materiel of literature, or see those
institutions thrown into the shade. This they did, accordingly,
thougli with an inferior spirit of liberality, to that of the Hanoverian
minister. As a law exists in every state of Germany, that those.

78 gSttincen.
who hold offices under government, shall pass one, and in some
of them, two years at one of the institutions belonging to the
country where they reside ; none of the older schools, which now
exist, have been entirely deprived of their students, though all of
them have looked at Gottingen as their great rival. The life of
Miinchhausen, has thus formed an era in the literary history of
Germany, and his name will be held in remembrance by nulhons
yet unborn.
The singular political character of Germany has done much,
perhaps more than any other cause, to rouse its literary ardour.
It is divided into thirty-five states, exclusive of the four free cities,
Hamburg, Liibeck, Bremen, and Frankfort. The twenty-one
universities which now exist, are in eleven of these states. The
remaining twenty-four vary in population, from five thousand to
three hundred and fifty thousand. With the exception of six, no
one of the last-mentioned states has more than eight)-, and half of
them less than fifty thousand souls. Most of them are, of course,
too small, to provide the means of instruction necessary in such a
country as this. The eleven large states where universities exist,
with the exception of Austria, Prussia, and Bavaria, are almost too
small to be regarded in a glance at the map of Europe. Their
monarchs have been perfectly aware, that neither their territory
nor their population can give them much political importance. As
all men love distinction, and monarchs above all others, there
reriiained but one way lo acquire it, and that was in becoming the
patrons of learning. Fortunately for Germany, her monarchs have,
in this respect, kept pace with the spirit of the age. Instead of
wasting the resources of the people in festi\als, where the only
light emitted was derived from powder and wax, as you find in
almost every state in Italy, they have caused the lamp of learning
and science to burn in all their uni»ersilies, until from the Rhine
to the Niemen, the gloom of ignorance has been dispelled, and
most of the superstition, which once covered the land, has vanished
away. The present Grand Duke of Weimar, whenever he dis
covered men of genius, pensioned them, and invited them to his
residence, or to the uni\'crsit)- of Jenn. For their use he enlarged
his libraries, both in his capital and in the latter city. Weimar
soon became the German Athens, and probably at no period since

LITERARY EMULATION. 79
the fall of Greece, has a small city presented the same blaze of
genius within its walls. The names of Goethe, Wieland, Herder,
Schiller, and Musaeus, have thrown a charm over this town, which
makes it classic ground. In the conversation of these poets, the
Grand Duke passed most of his leisure hpurs. They became his
bosom friends, and his patronage of them has made him the
favourite monarch of Germany, the Ma3casnas of his age.
The same love of distinction is the cause why such a' literary
emulation prevails among the German scholars. Politics present
only a very limited prospect of success. In such governments as
these, but a small number of persons can be thus employed, except
in the humble situation of clerks and secretaries. Most of them
are filled by the nobles, and to one whose blood is not pure
by birth, but little hope remains of arriving at eminence in political
life. There is a theatre, however, , on which they may enter,
where the superiority of birth is unknown. Happily for them
this is almost boundless ; it is one where the mind may exert all
its powers free from every restraint, except that placed upon
political discussions. The numerous divisions and subdivisions of
science, the fine arts, exegetical literature, law, medicine, and
theology, offer a variety almost commensurate with the desires of
the ever active mind. Here reigns the most perfect equality. No
rank, no station, not even the monarch, claims precedence in this
republic of letters. Learning and genius here meet their reward,
the homage of all inferior minds. The arguments of the king or
the emperor, or their ministers, when not supported by the bayonet,
are hefe compelled to yield before those of the humble citizen ;
and, when thus supported, the victory is merely physical. To this
theatre most of the aspiring minds of Germany resort, to try
their fortunes ; and although many die unknown, or have but a
transient reputation, not a small number acquire that distinction
in this land of letters and libraries, which equals their fondest
hopes. The extent of this republic is greater than that of any
other country. Among the seventeen millions of inhabitants north
of the Mayne, there are probably several times as many readers of
magazines and books, in proportion to the whole population, as in
any European kingdom. The thorough education which the

80 GOTTINGEN.
Germans receive, makes them fully sensible to the great advan
tages resulting from that universal knowledge, for which they are
so conspicuous ; while the rapid advancement which learning and
science, are making, require assiduous application and a continual
perusal of new pubUcations, to enable them to keep pace with the
spirit of the age.

81

LETTER V.
Gottingen, Sept. 25, 1825.
I sent you a few days since a long letter dated from this city, in
which I attempted to draw a slight picture of the university. You
will there find much shade blended with the light, more probably
than will be agreeable to your American optics. It wilM fear ap
pear faint to you, when you remember that it was drawn by one
who has been for many years in love with the ideal he had formed
of it, at the distance of four thousand miles. The moon presents
to our eyes a picture of perfect beauty, but were we to approach
it, we should no^ doubt discover a quantum suff of bogs, swamps
and mire ; and even a poet treading its dirty surface, would find it
difficult to transform it into an " island of the blest." So I have
found most of the objects, and not a few of the men of Europe.
While an ocean rolled between them and myself, they presented a
most brilliant picture to my eye, but when I came to see them in
in the plain d&shabilli of near inspection, they lost not a little of
their splendour. But with all its duels and immorality, Gottingen
is a magnificent institution. A stranger when looking at it, and
recollecting what it has done during the last ninety years, (for it is
younger than many persons who live within a hundred miles of it,)
is compelled to acknowledge that it is one of the favoiu'ite abodes
of genius, and worthy of being placed by the side of Oxford, Ley-
den and Leipzig, on the records of fame.
A few evenings since, I had an opportliity. of witnessing a f6te,
to which, as our literary men fade so early, we have no parallel
in our country. This was the congratulations offered by the
students to professor Blumenbach, who has just finished the fiftieth
year of his professorship, and the hundredth course of his lectures.
The students arranged themselves in a procession walking two
and two. They carried burning matches of about four feet, in
length, and marched through the principal- streets of the city. A
12

82 GOTTINGEN.
band of music preceding them, played a number of the beautiful
airs, for vifhich this country is so famous, until they came in front
of the professor's house, when as soon as the music ceased, they
gave him three cheers. The professor was standing at the window,
and although seventy-three years of age, thanked them with suffi
cient strength of voice, to be heard at the extremities of the line,
which they answered by a second trio of cheers. They then pro
ceeded beyond the walls of the city into a large meadow, and threw
their flaming torches into a pile which they surrounded, singing a
song of friendship, composed by a former member of the institu
tion. As Blumenbach is a great favourite with the students, they
all united in showing him this burning proof of their respect and
love. While marching through the streets, they were compelled to
walk at a considerable distance apart, to avoid singeing each other.
They thus compressed the Philistines to the side walks, and amused
themselves by singeing them with their flaming weapons. The
darkness of the night, the long rows of torches which they occa
sionally moved and swung, in as many directions as an ignis fatuus
ever moved in ; the merry strains of music pealed forth by the
band, the shrieks of the servant girls, when in danger of being
burned, (for they took great pleasure in making them prove the
strength of their lungs,) together with the illuminated columns of
smoke which rose above them, presented as odd a picture, as an
oriental funeral. I could not help thinldng that we on the other
side of the ocean, would our professors only live long enough to
furnish the opportunity, might devise a much more rational mode,
and certainly a less smoking one, of showing our respect for a
distinguished savant. I have been too long, however, at this univer
sity, to anticipate any thing from the students, which is not at least
spiced with what the Germans call Schw'drmerey, which as they
use this word, means a compound of fancy and extravagance, or
an approximation to quixotism.
I have been very much surprised to see the great longevity of
the literati of Germany, when contrasted i^ith the students of our
country. Professor Streaumeyer is now delivering his hundredth
and sixth course of lectures ; Eichhorn, his hundred and first ; ami
not a few of the other professors are enjoying vigorous health at

LONGEVITY OF THE PROFESSORS.

83

that period, when most of ours are in their grave. Heyne died at
eighty-six, Kastner at eighty-one, Michaelis at seventy -four, Haller
at seventy, Kant at eighty, Jacobi at seventy-six, and the poets
Wieland and Klopstock at eighty-one, and at seventy-nine years of
age. Goethe is now seventy-six, and many of the most distin
guished professors of other universities are delivering their two or
three courses of lectures, at a period of life, when in most coun
tries, if one happens to live so long, he is laid on the shelf as
having outUved his usefulness. This great longevity can not
result from a want of application, for most of the persons here
mentioned have published from twenty to eighty vplumes, and
more assiduous students the world has never seen. Our literati
rarely conipose more than half a dozen volumes, and even this
number entitles them to be placed on the Hst of volumnious writers.
With us, learned men are continually exercising ; here they shut
theiniselves in their studies, and through most of their lives pass from
twelve to sixteen hours a day in making profound researches, and in
writing their lectures. It is true, they do not eat meat breakfasts,
but they eat meat with supper, and that just before retiring to rest.
As their cookery is less healthy than ours, we have rather the ad
vantage of them in this respect. The winter is not so severe as
that of New-England, but it is colder than that of Virginia. The
weather is less variable than with us, but there is much more
moisture ; which in a cold country is still more deleterious. It
has often been remarked that painters lived to a longer period
than any other class of men, and it has been explained by the pecu
liar tranquility of mind which those artists enjoy. This is not
more applicable to therri than to students ; and yet those of the
United States, as well as those of most other countries, die compa
ratively early. I know of but one cause, and that is far from being
an adequate one. The stove is universal in the tiorth of Germany.
By this they have an equal temperature at all times, and are never
subjected to the alternate freezing and thawing, from which we
suffer so much during our coldest Weather before our open fires.
That many a constitution is more tit less injured by this imperfect
manner of warming Our houses, no one can doubt. Were the
Russian stoves universally adopted, we should unquestionably find
fewer instances of our most valuable men, being cut down before

81 GOTTINGEN.
they had reached that period of life, when their faculties had
attained their greatest vigour.
Blumenbach is one of the most distinguished professors of Ger
many, and has done as much as any one now living, to extend the
reputation of this university. He maintains that reputation in
physiology in Germany, which Cuvier has in France, and has been
more instrumental than any other man, in exciting an interest in
these studies. He has in fact given such an impulse to them, that
he may be considered as the creator of this science in this coun
try. In consequence of the enthusiasm which he has produced,
many of his pupils devoted their lives to these pursuits, and are
now holding very honourable places in the other universities. His
lectures on natural history, osteology, physiolegy, comparative
anatomy, &c. have always attracted young men from the remotest
parts of Germany. His room is always filled, as he has been for
a long period the most popular of all the professors.* His works
have been made text books at many of the universities, and have
been perused more than those of any other man in his departinent.
He is now as enthusiastic as at any previous period of his life, and
exhibits a boundless curiosity respecting new discoveries. Blu
menbach has been principally instrumental in collecting the cabi
net of natural history belonging to this institution ; besides which
he has a private one, consisting of the skulls of most of the na
tions and tribes of the world, which presents to the eye, almost
every line of variety, from , the retreating forehead of mere ani
malism, to the almost perpendicular one of genius. His work on
this subject, collectio craniorum divers gent has given him a re
putation throughout Europe ; where very few names are as well
known. In conversation he is most interesting, not only from his
great learning, but from the youthful ardour with which he enter^s
into every subject ; and as the amiableness ol' his character is com
mensurate with his attainments, you feel a respect for his heart,
* Blumenbach illustrates all his theories by anecdotes. With these he keeps
his pupils in a continual roar, making his theories and his facts humorously
indelible by the power of association. So great is his popularity throughout
Germany, that several deputations have arrived here from otlier universities,
to congratulate him; bearing with them plate and otlier presents, among
which arc several medals, which have been struck off iu his praise.

BLUMENBACH. 85
which is not surpassed by your admiration of his talents. In the
evening his house is always open to his pupils, who are expected
to visit him at pleasure, and they are welcomed by his family as
well as by himself with so much cordiality, that they are often in
duced to avail themselves of this opportunity of enjoying his so
ciety. '
Among the professors of this institution, there is none whose
name is so well known in the United States as Eichhorn, the father.
Though but little of a German on my arrival here,, I had still pe
rused more of his writings than those of any of the other Gotting
en literati, and had found in them such- research, and such new
views of the subjects which he discusses, that although differing
from him on many subjects, I had a greater desire to see him than
almost any man in Germany. He had been to my eyes, for seve
ral years, one of the Gibborim m, oriental literature, and at the
prospect of meeting him my curiosity became intense. My ima
gination had drawn a splendid picture of his physical, as well as
mental being ; what then was my surprise in being ushered into
his presence, to see a small man, of only five feet si.K inches in
height, rather corpulent, and not having any resemblance to the
picture fancy had drawn. His face is fine, and in his youth he
must have been a very handsome man, and as such he v/as doubtless
regarded by the German mademoiselles, some fifty or sixty years
since. His hair, which is very long, is as white as snow, and is
thrown back, falling over his shoulders. His eye, notwithstanding
his close application, is very prominent, not having sunk in its orbit,
as is almost always the case, with such intense students as he has
been. Though now seventy-three years old, he has much of the
freshness o^middle age in his face, but in his walk you discover
the influence of time. He received me with great politeness, and
in that open manner, which in a fev/ minutes made me feel quite at
my ease. According to his ideas of etiquette, it was improper to
read the letter of introduction which I had handed him, in my pre
sence ; and begging me to excuse, him a moment, he retired, that
he might peruse it alone. Whether this was a part of the etiquette
of Germany fifty years since, or whether it resulted from his pe
culiar feelings, I know not, but I have never seen it in any other
instance. We talked about Charles X. Mr. Villele, French poll-

80 GOTTINGEN.
tics, the progress of liberty in Europe, and the Pope, on which
topics he entered with a great deal of animation. I found him
quite as liberal in politics, an admirer of our institutions, and be
lieving with most of the liberals on the continent, that our exam
ple would exert not a little influence on the future happiness of
Europe. He has now almost finished the fifty-first year of his professor
ship, having been chosen when he was twenty-two years of age.
He was first called to fill a professor's chair at Jena, where he
remained until the death of Michaelis, when he was invited to this
imiversity. It is generally admitted by all who know him, that he
has been one of the most illustrious examples of mental applica
tion ever known in Germany. One who has long known him,
and whose knowledge of his habits is such as to leave no doubt of
the truth of the statement, has informed riie, that, during the last
fifty-five years, he has been in the habit of studying sixteen hours
a day. What an exhibition of the improvement of time ! I could
not look at him v/ithout feeling that he was almost without a paral
lel, as an example of assiduity. He seemed to me like a noble
doric column, upon which time had beaten almost in vain. His
manners are an union of the old and new school ; the dignity of
the one, with the ease and gracefulness of the other. There is a
very unusual degree of frankness in his reception of you, united
with a scrupulous observance of all those civilities, wliich prevent
your wants by anticipating their gratification. His courtesy is not
merely external, but flows at the same time from the heart, leaving
on your mind the impression of a finished gentleman.
It is now forty-six years since he published his Introduction to
the Old Testament, a work of immense research, uAquaUed by
any within my knowledge in the English language. No one can
read it without being astonished at the extent of his attainments at
the early age of twenty-seven. Before him, many of the exegets of
Germany had published historical views of the individual books of
the Old Testament ; but he was the first writer who presented a
complete and connected history of the Canonical books, in relation
to their collection, original form, history of the texts, and critical
aids, with an analysis of each book. As he was the first to examine
this subject, he entered the field with an ardour worthy of its im-

EICHORN. 87
portance. Although those who succeeded him have, in some
points, written better than he did, and corrected those errors which
are always attendant on upon a new course of investigation, still in
research and originality of arrangement, he has been equalled by
( none who have since written on the subject, unless De Wette should
be excepted.* The historical part of his work is without a compe
titor, and will probably remain so for a long time to come. He
feels as if very many of those writers who have followed him, had
stolen from him ; and, judging from those works which I have
read, his opinion is not without foundation. Of all his writings,
he considers his Commentarius in Apocalypsin Joanhis decidedly
the most ingenious, and the most acute. His countrymen have
not agreed with him in this opinion, and in the theological reviews
it has been treated with not a little severity. Whether they do not
understand it, as he maintains, or whether their criticisms are just,
I am ignorant. He observed to me that when he first published
his works, he was thought to be quite heterodox by his country
men, but that many of his contemporaries had gone S3 far beyond
him, that he was now comparatively orthodox. How much soever
one may differ from him, and even lament that he has added the
weight of his name and his immense learning to the side of scep
ticism, no one can converse with him without being convinced of
the sincerity of his belief, and without feeling the greatest respect
for his exhibition of so noble an example of industry, nor fail to
remember his amiable and affectionate manners, without the great
est pleasure.
When he first appeared in the world of theological literature, he
was hailed as a rising star of unusual brilliancy. His succeeding
fame has not equalled th6 anticipations of his countrymen. This
has been, in some measure, owing to the fact, that his contempo
raries, with the aid which he has afforded theip, have pushed their
investigation fiirther than himself; as well as to that vice which so
universally prevails in this country^ — the love of writing many
book, of which " there is no end'- in Germany, though few of
* De Wette has only published a Syllabus of his lectures. This work, which
is a small volume, is regarded here as superior to every other which has ap
peared.

88 GOTTINGEN.
the authors will admit that " much learning is a weariness to the
flesh."* There is much literarary tradition afloat in the conversation of the
students, and professors of the university, particularly in relation to
the great men who have formerly filled the professors' chairs. Their»
various quarrels, disputes, and satirical effusions, are very current,
and afford not a httle amusement to the students of the present day.
Among the professors, remarkable for their wit and satire, the great
astronomers and mathematicians Kastner and Lichtenberg, are per
haps the most celebrated. They were called to Gottingen within a
shorttime of each other, and during the many years they held their
respective chairs, they made the literary circles of this town among
the most humorous of Germany. It is ver^ rare to behold a ma
thematician fond of humour, and still more so to find him possessing
it himself. To see two su?h men, at the same time, in the same
university, is one of those strange coincidences, which, from its
variety, becomes a standard of comparison, when any thing re
markable occurs. Kastner's satire was directed at every thing,
and every body. The professors of Gottingen were continually
exposed to his fire, few, if any of them, being spared. Among
these, Schlbzen, the professor of history and statistics, was parti
cularly offensive to him. When Schlozer received his patent of
nobility, Kastner wrote the following ;
Den Adelsbrief des Herren den wir meinen,
Schreib Mann auf einer todten Eselshaut ;
So hat auf dem Ruin des einen
Der andere oft sein Gliick gebaut.
* His principal theological works are, AUgemeine Bibliothek d. biblischen
Literatur, 10 vols. His Urgeschichte Einl. u. anm. von J. Ph. Gabler, 2 vols.
Einloitung ins A. Test. 5 vols. Einleitung in die Apocryph. Schriflen, 1 vol.
Eenleitung ins N. Test. 3 vols. Repertorium fiir Siblische und Morgenl. Li-
' teratur, 9 vols. Die ^ebraischen Fropheten, 3 vols, and his Commentary on
the Revelation of Saint John. Besides these he has published a Historical
view of the French Revolution, 2 vols. History of the World, first and second
part, 6 vols. History of Literature, 2 vols. History of Literature from its ori
gin to the present time, if I recollect right, in 1 2 vols. General history of the
cultivation and Uterature of modern Europe, 2 vols. ; besides many smaller works
in single volumes; Most of the works above mentioned are in octavo. A Ger
man Octavo usually contains from five to seven hundred pages. This every one
must acknowledge, is an illustrious proof of industry, and love of research.

GERMAN ALLIANCE. 89
Kastner, hearing of Schlozer's marriage to a young lady who
had been his pupil, made the following impromptu :
Der grosseste von DeutscWand's Padagogen
Hat welter nichts als seine Frau erzogen ;
Und hatte Sie durch ihn Verstand bekommen.
So hatte Sie ihn nicht genommen.
Lichtenberg is the author of the celebrated " Illustrations of Ho
garth." In this work, he has exh,ibited a minuteness of analysis, a
profound knowledge of the human character, and a fund of humour,
little, if any, inferior to the celebrated artist. I know of few lite
rary amusements equal to the perusal of his illustrations. When
one reads them, he cannpt avoid lamenting that Lichtenberg did not
devote a part of his time to an exhibition of the ludicrous traits
existing in the, character of his countrymen. Had he done it, he
wpuld probably have been styled the Cervantes of Germany.
A few weeks since, one of the theological student;s walked out
into a meadow near the town,_ for the purpose of committing to
memory a sermon which he was to preach the next day. He is
supposed to have been very intently occupied in this manner, and
to have unconsciously fallen into the Leine, a small stream which
runs through it, where he was drowned. At his funeral the stu
dents walked by Landsmannschaften ; that to which he belonged
being nearest the corpse. They wore the dress of their clans, and
were under the direction of their respective presidents. After the
coffin was placed in the grave, it was surrounded by the band of
musicians belonging to the city, who played a beautifully mournful
air. One of the theological students then addressed his compa
nions, for a few minutes, alluding in a very pathetic manner to the
peculiar circumstances of his death. After he had finished, they
all united in singing a hymn around his grave; which was composed
by one of the students, at a former period, for a similar occasion.
The words were full of feeling, and the t\ine admirably adapted to
them. It drew tears from many of the spectators, and rarely have
I witnessed a mo1-e affecting spectacle-
When a student is buried, the band of the city always play ; but
at the death of a citizen, a horn is blown in the tower of one of the
churches, until the ceremony of interment is finished. It was for-
13

90 GOTTINGEN.
merly the custom in Hanover for every village to maintain a num
ber of boys, to sing a hymn at funerals, while the procession was
moving from the house to the cemetery. The influence of the
French destroyed this and many other poetical customs, which
formerly existed here. It has now entirely ceased in Hanover,
though it still prevails in some parts of Saxony.
The German universities, within the last few years, have been
placed under the inspection of Supervisors, whose duty it is to see
that nothing is said or done which may be dangerous to poUtical
orthodoxy. They were appointed in consequence of the supposed
or real conspiracies, which are asserted to have existed among tha
students a few years since. Since the death of Kotzebue, this
subject has been so often alluded to in the gazettes of the United
States, that I will give you a slight sketch of some of those events,
which have excited so much feeling in this country.
The German students, as well as the young men of every pro
fession, who offered their services to break the yoke of Napoleon,
felt something of that spirit of liberty, on their return from France,
which was so visible in the French army after our revolutionary
struggle. As they had all united in the cause of Germany, a na
tional feeling animated their hearts ; and many of them vrithout
doubt felt an ardent desire, to see all the states of this country
united into one great empire. The promise of the German repre
sentatives, at the Congress of Vienna, that every German state
should receive a constitution, reconciled them to a continuation of
the present dynasties ; and had this promise been complied with,
most of them would have probably soon forgotten that the idea of
such an union had ever entered their minds. The declaration of
that Congress, that the navigation of the great streams, which water
Germany, should be unrestrained, presented to the enterprising
class of society a brilliant prospect; and it was hoped and antici
pated, that, during the many years of peace which would probably
result from the compact of the Holy Alliance, Germany would take
an elevated rank in commerce and manufactures. The delays
which the German monarchs evinced in giving their subjects the
promised freedom, soon gave birth to the belief that they should
nev^r receive it ; while the restrictions that were placed upon the
navigation of the Rhine, the Weser, the Elbe, the Oder, and the

WARTBUEG FESTIVAL. 91
Vistula, excited imiversal disappointment and dissatisfaction, among
the mass of the population. They were conscious of their strength ;
for they had been powerfully instrumental in crushing him who
had been the terror of the world. Their sovereigns also dreaded
lest, like the elephant wounded in battle, this power might be
directed against themselves. At that time the press was less
shackled than at the present day, and many of the young men
published addresses to their countrymen, with remarks on the con
duct of the different governments, which were fitted to keep alive
public excitement, and to increase the fears of the respective sove
reigns. Among the students various societies were formed, in
tended to revive the old Germanic feeling, and to these they gave
names descriptive of their object. Among these, the societies of
Teutonia and Arminia were the most distinguished. The latter
derived its appellation from Hermann, in Latin Arminius, the cele
brated German hero during the time of the old Romans. These
societies, to which most of the students belonged, held secret
meetings, and undoubtedly talked much on the subject of union
and liberj;y. Songs in great numbers were written and sung in
praise cff Germany, and in the enthusiasm which was thus pro
duced among the Burschen, all local feelings for the time were
banished from their minds.
The students of the university of Jena, with the permission of
the Grand Duke of Weimar, sent an invitation to the Protestant
Burschen of the other institutions, to assemble at Eisenach on the
18th of October, 1817 ; in order to celebrate the anniversary of
the Reformation, and of the battle of Leipzig. The inhabitants
of that city opened their houses to them, and on the evening of
the 17th, nearly five hundred students, representing twelve of the
principal universities of Germany, were there assembled. On the
18th, at six o'clock in the morning, they repaired to the hill of
Wartburg, where they sung, soon after their arrival, one of the
hymns beginning, " Eine feste Burg ist unser Gott" — " A strong
citadel is our God." One of the students, who had distinguished
himself in the War of Freedom, then addressed them, and after
another hymn had been sung by all the students, Professor Fries
made a second address. A third hymn, commencing with the
words, " The Lord bless us," terminated the ceremony. Having

92 GiiTTINGEN.
descended to the town, they assembled in one of the public squares,
where they were addressed by Professor Oken. At the public
dinner which followed, the memory of Martin Luther, the Duke
of Saxe Weimar, &c, were toasted, with all that ardour which
might have been anticipated from such an assembly. In the evening,
they lighted their torches, which they threw into a heap, and then
assembling around it, sung those songs which are so popular in
the German universities. After many of the students had returned
to their temporary residences, some of those who remained, threw
a few of those books which were most obnoxious to them into
the flames, and about midnight they repaired to their lodgings in
the city. On the 19th, they again assembled, and were addressed
by several of the students, who recommended to them to abolish
the Landsmannschaften, and form a general union. These ha
rangues produced such an effect, that they consented to it without
hesitation ; and had the governments not taken the alarm, the
spirit of duelling would have been banished from the universities.
Soon after this event, letters appeared in the gazettes of Ger
many, representing this assembly as a collection of coHspirators
who were designing to overthrow the monarchs of Gfermany.
Strictures were also published, giving a false colouring to the
intentions of the students, which greatly alarmed the governments.
A tribunal was established in the name of the German states, and
Professor Fries, and many others, were arraigned before it, and
after a minute examination, it was ascertained that nothing trea
sonable had been discovered. Though all who had been sus
pected of disloyalty were publicly acquitted, the assembly of
Wartburg furnished the writers opposed to liberty with a power
ful argument to increase the fears of the easily alarmed monarchs
of this country.
Some time before this event, Kotzebue, the spy of the emperor
Alexander, as the Germans call him, had returned from Russia.
He had been sent here, as is universally believed, to observe
minutely the progress of democratical opinions in this eountry>
and to make his report to the cabinet of Petersburg. He resided
at Manheim, where he published a magazine filled with ridicule
and satire against those sentiments, which he declared to be rapidly
gaining ground. The talent which he displayed in presenting the

SAND AND KOTZEBUE. 93
" sovereign people" in a ridiculous light, excited universal hatred
against him among the young men of Germany. This was felt
most deeply by Sand, a theologictal student of Jena, who regarded
Kotzebue as the greatest obstacle to the liberty of his country.
Sand, as I was informed by a German gentleman, who was well
acquainted with him at Jena, was of reserved temperament, seclud
ing himself from the society of most of his fellow students, and
passing much of his time in reading the Bible. His feelings were
very ardent, and he showed an enthusiasm for the cause of free
dom, rarely witnessed even among the young Germans. He was
a native of Bavaria, a Catholic by education, and he intended at
one period to become a Missionary to the Heathen. The Satire
which Kotzebue poured forth against the spirit visible in the uni
versities, roused his indignation, and believing as he afterwards
confessed, that " the end sanctions the means," he resolved to
offer up himself, to secure, as he madly hoped, the liberty of Ger
many. Fully impressed with the idea that it would never enjoy
freedom so long as Kotzebue lived, he proceeded to Manheim,
and on the 9th of March, 1819, went to the house of the former.
He was conducted by a servant to the parlour, into which Kot
zebue soon entered, and after a short conversation he drew his
dagger, and thrust it through the heart of this enemy of German
freedom. He then stabbed himself, but the wound being slight,
he descended the stairs, and handed the servant a paper on which
was superscribed, " The thrust of death for Augustus de^Kotzcbue."
Having reached the street, he shouted " Long live my German
Fatherland," and kneeling down, cried " I thank thee God for
this victory," and then thrust his dagger into his breast. His
wounds were immediately examined, and found not to be mortal.
After several months of suffering, he partially recovered his health,
and from that time to his execution, was constantly occupied with
the perusal of his Bible. His trial caused a universal interest
throughout this country, almost every individual wishing that he
might be sp^ired. The young ladies* felt enthusiastic symjjathy
* A friend of mine residing in Hanover visited Manheim soon after the
death of Sand. As time enough had not then elapsed for flowers to grow over
his grave, a number of female friends requested him to bring them, on his
return, some dirt from the grave of Sand, that they might preserve it as a
¦relic of one who had died for his country.

94 GOTTINGEN.
for him, and many of them who had never seen him, fell in love
with the beau ideal which their fancies had drawn of the murde
rer. But the sympathies of the nation could not save him, and on
the fifth of May, 1820, he was beheaded, and soon after buried
in the same cemetery, in which Kotzebue had been interred a few
months before.*
The murder of Kotzebue furnished the governments with an
admirable pretext for declaring that a conspiracy existed in the
universities of Germany. Professors and students were arraigned
before the tribunals, and the Central Untersuchungs Commission,
which had been established some time before, was constantly
occupied. Many on whom suspicion rested, were arraigned before
it, and one Professor after another was displaced. Many of the
students were imprisoned, and at the subsequent trials in Prussia,
not a small number were sent to the penitentiaries ; some for life,
and others, from two to ten years. The governments were very
glad of an opportunity Of exhibiting their power, in order to strike
terror into the minds of the students. They pretended that these
conspiracies existed all over Germany, and that the monarchs and
the existing governments were in danger of being overthrown.
The censorship was made much more severe ; the gymnastic
establishments connected with the universities, which were believed
to be one of the principal sources of this spirit of disorganisation,
were abolished ; and the societies among the students were crushed
by the strong arm of power. The number of the sufferers and
the severity of their punishment, proved a most effectual lesson
to those who had escaped, and the feeling which had been seen at
the Wartburg festival, entirely disappeared. Instead of talking
about their Fatherland, union, and liberty, the students found
barely time enough to reorganise their Landsmannschaften, and
fight the duels which according to their ideas, necessarily grew
out of these institutions. On the subject of politics, not a mouth
whispered, unless in the confidence of intimacy ; and a traveller
passing at that time through Germany, might not have discovered
thatla single individual was dissatisfied with the governments. The
* This-tCccount of the Wartburg festival, and of the murder of Kotzebue,
is derived from the publications of the day, and from conversation with
German gentlemen.

CONDEMNATION OF THE STUDENTS. 95
Germans now speak more openly on the subject, and many of
them do not hesitate to say, that the young men who were impri
soned, suffered most unjustly ; that the pretended conspiracy never
existed ; and that the governments only availed themselves of this
pretence to diminish the liberties of the people. They dreaded,
say they, to have their conduct pass the scrutiny of the press, or
of conversation ; and under a pretext of danger, they have seized
this occasion to fetter our minds, and throw us back into the des
potism of the last century.
To us, such accusations would appear of course unfounded, but
in countries where the courts are held in secret, as they are in most
of those of Germany, and where the judges can be removed at the
nod of the monarch, I can easily believe that there is not a little
foundation for these assertions. Even those most friendly to the
governments admit that great severity has been exercised, although
they believe there was some just cause for alarm.
Since this letter was written, many investigations have been
held relating to the conduct of the young men engaged in this
conspiracy. While I was in Berlin, or soon after leaving that
city, many of the students were condemned to two, four, and even
ten years confinement in the fortresses of Prussia. In the Journal
des Debats, there is a letter dated Berlin, 15th March, 1827,
which gives a particular account of the proceedings in the superior
court of Silesia, held at Breslau, the capital of that province. The
writer states, that this tribunal has just pronounced judgment
upon the cases of the professors and students which had come
under its cognizance. He says : " One of them is condemned to
imprisonment in a fortress for twelve years, and declared incapa
ble of holding any office under the government : a professor is
deprived of his place, declared incapable of holding it again, and
condemned to eleven years imprisonment, because he did not
reveal the existence of such a society, (a secret society among the
students I suppose,) though he was not even suspected of having
taken a part in it. Three others were deposed, declared incapa
ble of holding their places, and condemned to fifteen years im
prisonment. Another was deposed and condemned as a special
favour, par indulgence, to only thirteen years imprisonment.
Many others are condemned to still longer imprisonment." The

96 GOTTINGEN.
rector of the university published this decision, to prevent the
students frorti taking part in secret assemblies or associations, and
to frighten them by the aspect of a punishment ivhich, if guilty,
they could not escape. These societies to which the Silesian court
refers ceased to exist long since, and at this late day, many years
after their abohtion, the students are condemned. The confine
ment preceding their trial has occupied not a small part of their
lives, and when the thirteen or fifteen years are ended, they will
be incapacitated by their long seclusion from society, to exert any
influence on their countrymen, and perhaps even to gain their
bread. In Leipzig I saw a young man looking through the grate
of his prison, and was informed by a friend that he was one of
the students belonging to a secret society, and that he had been
confined between four and five years waiting for his trial. When
the Germans complain of these acts of severity, any one who
looks at the delay of judicial proceedings, must feel that their
rights are trampled upon, and that they have abundant reason to
contend that there was no foundation for the alarm, professedly
felt a few years since, by the governments of this country. This
severity was not confined to the north of Germany. At the time
when this subject first fixed the attention of the German monarchs,
many young Swiss were residing in Vienna, as instructers in the
families of that city. They were accused of belonging to the
band of conspirators, were imprisoned, and after ten months were
declared innocent of the charges brought against them. 'NMule
looking at such an exhibition of tyranny, may my heart alivays
feel grateful to God for giving me my birth in the land of freedom.
Germany is literally swarming with noblemen, who, with few
exceptions, are in very moderate circumstances. Not a small
number pf them are poor, and almost all of them, are proud in
proportion to their poverty. Hanover, has probably as great a
number for its population, as any of the German states. There is
here no primogeniture, the title of the father descending to every
one of the sons, and this is not unfrequently their only inheritance.
The noblemen are divided into two classes, the high and the low.
The first class, included formerh', the descendants of those fiimiUes,
who under the Emperors, had the right of sitting at the national
Diets, as well as all the hereditary princes and counts of the

NOBILITY. 97
empii-e. They are still regarded as decidedly superior to the
other class of the noblility, whose diplomas are of more recent
date, notwithstanding many of them take precedence of the former,
when they are elevated to the ministry, or arrive at the highest
rank in the army. The lower class includes those who have
derived their diplomas, not from the emperor, but from the
monarchs of the individual states. As the German monarchs have
never been very rich, they have not been able to revrard their subjects
with wealth ; and as a diploma of nobility answered as well, they
have substituted it for more substantial favours. Hence have
arisen the swarms of noblemen that are met with in the university,
in the army, and at every public assembly. As this country has
been for centuries the theatre of war, many of the little states of
which it was composed, have changed masters, and the ruling
femilies have been .supplanted. As the descendants of- those who
have been rulers at a former period, retain their titles, or receive
new ones, you find princes here as numerous as lords in England.
Many of them are excessively poor, and live on the little pittance,
which during the storm of war, has been saved from the wreck of
their fortunes. Accustomed as we are, when looking at England,
to associate great splendour with the idea of nobility, I was not a
little surprised to hear the other day, that a young German prince
who dines at the same table d' hSte with myself, had a fortune of
six hundred dollars per annum, an income inferior to many of our
tailors and shoemakers.
The nobility are divided into four classes : Fiirst, or prince ;
second, Graf, or Count; third, Frey Herr, or Baron; fourth, Herr
von. This last title corresponds with the French de; for example.
Monsieur de Chateaubriand, Monsieur de Villele. This is the
lowest order of pure blood, and is the first stepping stone from
plebeianism upwards. Before the French Revolution, these orders
were quite distinct, rarely intermarrying with each other, unless
fortune balanced the want of birth, and never with the Biirger, or
those whose blood was common- That event, has in some mea
sure, broken down these contemptible distinctions, though it would
require an intercourse of a century with the French Republicans
to eradicate them entirely from Germany. After the French were
driven out of this country, the ftobles again took courage, in the
14

98 ciJTTINCEN.
hope of acquiring their former superiority. Fortunately for them,
the monarchs of Germany, when they found themselves at Paris,
at the head of an army of plebeians, became alarmed at the victories
they had gained, by the aid of such a dangerous body ; and dread
ing, lest the people should eventually become sovereign, they
determined to renew these distinctions. Accordingly, all lucrative
offices were given to the nobility, as the commoners who had
previously held them, deceased and at the present time they are
principally filled by this class. This furnishes a subsistence to
many poor fellows, who are too proud to labour, and enables
them to keep up a semblance of their former distinction. The
favourite stations of this class are the offices in the army, most of
which are filled by them. The army, in Germany, takes the
precedence of every thing else, not only in the eyes of the
governments, but of many of the governed, as the officers are
always treated with the most marked respect by the duke, elector,
or king, whom they serve. They know very well, that the
bayonets of the soldiers are their only defence, and they are, of
course, very careful to make them their friends. The table of the
sovereign is the touchstone of rank, in the little states of this
country, and all those who are admitted to it, are considered as be-
, longing to a superior order. Of this number are the nobles and all the
officers of the army, even to the second lieutenants, although the
pay of many of them does not equal three hundred dollars per
annum. In Hanover, professors and clergymen, imless they have
an honourable title, do not enjoy this privilege, and are esteemed
at court, as decidedly inferior to those who hold these humble
stations in the army. Commoners who exhibit that superiority
of I mind, which makes them necessary to government, are
elevated, in most of the German states, to distinguished offices ;
but when this is the case, a diploma of nobility is usually given
them, to prevent the two classes from approximating too near
each other. In addition to this, the nobles) in some of the German
states, are freed from many of those taxes, which the citizens and
peasants find very burdensome. The old distinctions are thus
gaining ground, and the public are beginning to treat them
with much more respect than during their submission to the
French government. Previously to the arrival of their conquerors.

FEMALE PATRIOTISM. 99
the nobles never married with the people. During their subjection,
the word Egaliti,, had no little influence here, as well as in France,
and such intermarriages were not very unfrequeni. At the present
time they are very rare.
This distinction affords them not only positive advantages, but
those also which are ideal. Before the republicans crossed the
Rhine, the daughters of the nobility were always addressed with
the title of Praiilein or miss ; and those of the- commoners with
that of Jungfer, and sometimes, though more rarely, of Jungfrau,
or miss. While they were here, theFreijch prefix, mademoiselle,
was extensively introduced, and the young ladies of noble birth,
as well as others, received it without hesitation. This continued,
at least in the western half of Germany, very much in, vogue, until
their conquerors were driven back beyond the Rhine. Their hatred
towards the French, was such, that they resolved to obliterate all
French words from the German language. This flame of patriotism
burned not merely in the hearts of the soldiers, it literally blazed
in those of many of the ladies of Hanover. The mothers of
Liineburg assembled, and forming themselves into a species of
anti-French society, resolved, I believe, unanimously, that their
daughters should no longer be called by the odious name made
moiselle, but that they should be addressed by the genuine German
prefix of Fraiilein. A similar society was formed in several other
cities, and the same resolution was passed. This French term
was accordingly banished, never more to violate Hanoverian
ground. More than one hundred thousand mademoiselles thus
ceased almost in a moment to exist, and as xaanj Frauleins rose into
being.* Their resolutions, however, were not sufficiently powerful
to eradicate this foreign word. The recollection of the fine man
ners of the French, ,eventually reconciled them to its re-introduc
tion; and mademoiselle is now very current vidth the citizens,
though among the pobility, Fraiilein reigns with an undisputed
* They were not satisfied with simply altering the prefix to the names of their
daughters. They determined that they would revive the old German names of
their ancestors. Accordingly, they gave to those that vvho were born about that
time, very many names that had become nearly or quite obsolete. In the course
of a few years, there were among the young misses, as many Huldas, Idas,
Fuldas, Kunigundas, and Thusneldas, as in the time of old Hermann.

100 GOTTI.VGEN.
sway. A similar spirit of patriotism was displayed by some of the
gentlemen. A society was formed, I think at Brunswick, which
published a new dictionary, abolishing all the French words which
during the last two centuries had been introduced into the German
language. Even the technics of war, which have become the
military terms of almost every country in Europe, were abolished,
and new ones were coined. Custom, however, was too powerful,
and notwithstanding the French were driven out of Germany, this
part of their language still rules against all opposition.
There are in Hanover eleven Protestant convents, where young
ladies may retire who have survived the bloom of youth, and have
arrived at single blessedness,- and may pass down the stream of
time, in each other's society, in uninterrupted tranquillity. Each
of these institutions is under the direction . of an elderly lady, cor
responding, in some degree, with the abbess of Catholic convents.
The young ladies receive annually from two to three hundred rix
dollars, with which they 'are enabled to live genteelly. The restraints
of the institution are not severe. They receive visits from their
friends, usually in the presence of the governess, though that is not
required, or has been for a short time only. It is not necessary
to reside here constantly ; a few Aveeks of each year being suffi
cient to entitle them to the pension. Some of them accordingly
pass most of- their time with their friends, and whenever they are
thrown out upon the world by the dissolution of their families, they
have a refuge, to which they can retire, \rithout experiencing those
mortifications which are so frequently attendant upon adversity.
These asylums are under the direction of government, to which
parents, wishing to procure such places for their children, apply.
It requires some influence at court to obtain them, as the number
of applicants is much greater than that of vacancies. Parents not
unfrequently solicit them while the children are quite yomig, and
some of them receive the promise of them even from the cradle,
although, I believe, they do not enjoy the emolument imtil they
approach the shady side of twenty, unless they reside in the con
vent at least a part of the time. As they receive \ isits at these in
stitutions without great restrictions, it sometimes occurs, tliat a
visiter is wounded, and can find no peace, until the fair mademoi
selle has blessed him with her hand : for love, \\ ho ususally makes

PROTESTANT CONVENTS. 101
" the camp, the court, and the grove," his favourite haunts, some
times pays a flying visit to these convents, to prove to the world
his omnipotence. Whenever a lady is thus addressed, she has the
consolation of knowing that her lover is actuated by the purest
affection, as her limited pension is taken from her as soon as she
enters into the " holy bands." Of the eleven convents of this
description, now in Hanover, nine of them are for the daughters of
the nobility ; a striking evidence not only of the superiority which
birth gives here, but also of the poverty of this class of society.
Hanover belongs to the third class of states, which form the
German confederacy. Its population, according to Hassel's esti
mate for 1822, is 1,380,000. For the wars of the alliance, it is
bound to furnish 13,054 men, whenever they may be wanted. At
the full assembly of the Diet it has four voices ; in the other, but
one. The king of England, who is also king of Hanover, governs this
kingdom through his brother the duke of Cambridge,' who has borne
since 1816 the title of governor-general of Hanover. Its parlia
ment, which consists of one hundred and one members, meets every
year at Hanover the capital. Of these, ten are clergymen, forty-
nine are noblemen, and forty-two are members from the cities.
The remainder are from East Frifesland, which is the only province
that has the privilege of sending peasants as their representatives.
This parliament, which consists of but one chamber, has little to do
besides regulating the taxes, making laws, &c. The members are
so much under the influence of the government, that this body pre
sents to the nation only the semblance of liberty. In truth, very
many of the inhabitants would willingly dispense with it. Its doors
are always closed, and nothing is known of the debates except
what government chooses to publish. However disposed the king
might be to put it on the footing of the English Parliament, it could
not be done without exciting the jealousy of most of the other
German states, especially Prussia and Austria, whose governments
are so diametrically opposed to the progress of political light, that
they would probably resort to extremities, rather than see a coun
try west of the Rhine enjoying a constitution like that of England.
As the English nation are beginning to feel that they have spent
money enough in their Quixotic attempts to give liberty to the con-

102 GOTTINGEN.
tinent, they would be very unwilling to squander their resources
in the vain effort of opposing two such powers as Prussia and Aus
tria on foreign ground. If the king, as some of his admirers
believe, is desirous of placing his Hanoverian on the same footing
as his English subjects, he has the mortification of being compelled
to submit to the powers that be. The liberty of the press, the
glory of England, and the birthright of every Briton, is here un
known. No political works that contain sentiments dear to the
heart of man are here printed, until the censor has blotted out every
liberal idea, all that convey the doctrine of equal rights. Politics
are rarely alluded to in a mixed circle ; and when the political con
dition of distant countries is canvassed, all those which awaken a
comparison, are scrupulously avoided. Political discussion, so far
as it exists in conversation, unless in strictly private circles, is
made up of abstract maxims, so refined and purified from 'every
terrestrial quality, as to seem applicable to another sphere, to spi
rits, rather than to those who earn their bread by the sweat of their
brow. The lion and the unicorn which, attract your attention to
every publio-edifice, reminds you of liberty ; but they crouch here
before the Prussian eagle and the double-headed vulture of Aus
tria. Through their influence, the Hanoverian government, soon
after the assassination of Kotzebue, was compelled to abolish all
the political societies in the university, and to appoint a supervisor
to reside at Gottingen, who should watch over the professors as
well as the students, and take care that no mouth should utter in
public, words that would be dangerous to the rule of despotism.
Through their influence also the liberty of the press in Germany
has entirely been strangled, without leaving the hope that it \rill
ever arise from the profound grave where tyranny has interred it.
The revenue of Hanover amounts to between eleven and twelve
millions of guldens, half of which comes from the domains belonging
to the state. The private domains of the monarch are also very
large, yielding him, as, I have been informed several millions of
guldens. Most of this sum he spends in England, and hence arises
the desire so universal in tiiis country, of having a resident
monarch like the other states of Germany. This country derives
in fact no advantage from her union with England, for in every Eng
lish war she must necessarily be a sufferer. By the union with

REVENUE OF HANOVDR. 103
that country, she is not bound to engage in her wars, nor is
England in those of Hanover ; still the monarchs whose terri
tories are near this state, need no other pretext in a war with the
former country for taking possession of Hanover, than that it is
subjected to the same king. Its government is now not only under
the necessity of being dictated to by the Alliance at Frankfort, but
is also compelled to consult the will of a monarch who resides at a
distance ; and whenever they clash one of the parties must be diso
beyed.' The king is far from being unpopular. AVhen he visited
this country a few years since, he was received with as much en
thusiasm, as one could have expected from a German population,
who beheld their monarch for the firSt time. The administration
of the government has been equitable, and the people have enjoyed
as much liberty as they could expect, belonging as they do to an
Alliance, where the influence of such governments as Austria and
Prussia is predominant.' Were the king to spend the income he
receives from his domains here, and not in England, he would pro
bably be more beloved than most of the German mbharchs.
The three large rivers, the Elbe, the Weser, and the Ems, water
this country, and furnish it with great facilities for commerce. It has
not, however, availed itself of them to the extent one would have
anticipated. Hamburg and Bremen monopolize most of the trade,
and from those cities most of the exports are sent. Emden is the
only sea-port of Hanover of any magnitude. Its population
amounts to only 10,000, and not more than three hundred vessels
enter and leave its harbour yearly. This city is so far removed from
the heart of the country, that most of the produce, which would
otherwise be shipped from that city, now goes to Hamburg or
Bremen.

104

LETTER VI. Berlin, Nov. 1, 18X5.
As * * * * my fellow traveller had a very extensive acquaintance
among the students, they all assembled at my rooms, (for we had
agreed to start from thence,) to bid him adieu. The custom of
kissing your friends on your departure, as well as on your return, is
as universal among the' gentlemen of this country, as among the
ladies of the United States. The modus operandi, is similar to that
of France, excepting that here they salute the lips, as well as
each cheek. Having been in Gottingen but a few months, it«'as
not expected that I should comform to the custom, which usually
exists only among friends. --I was consequently exempted from
playing my part, and had an opportunity of witnessing the adroit
ness of my friend, in saluting the cheeks of a dozen or more of
the students. To take farewell in this manner of the younger
members in the circle was not a very difficult task, but as most of
the Burschen adorn their upper Kp as soon as possible with mus
taches, it required not a little address to find the way to the cheeks
of some of the oldest; especially as this ornament was in two or
three instances several inches in length, standing out with a stiff
curl, like a shield to defend it against every attack. He accom
plished it, however, with great ease, encountering the most formi
dable mustaches without the least embarrassment. This custom
so singular to us, exists iil every country I have yet visited, and
even in Rome the very Seat of his Holiness, I was under the ne
cessity of kissing one of the clergy myself. There was not a
little difficulty in doing it (for he took me by surprise,) as his
cheeks were so much depressed, as to form two considerable cavi
ties, and his nose was exceedingly large. He very unexpectedly
threw his arms around my neck, and drav ing me close to him,
saluted one of my cheeks. As he still held on, there was not a
little difficulty in getting the oth.cr side of his nose, unaccustomed

KtSSINGi 10S>
as I was to this exercise, this being in truth my debut. . Eventu
ally I succeeded in doubling this most important promontory of his
face, though with not a little awkwardness. For this there was
fortunately no necessity to make an apology, as he was so near
sighted as to be almost blind, and probably did not perceive my
embarrassment. This custom is not confined to the higher classes.
While at Messina, twenty months since, I saw two beggars salute
each other in the same manner. Unintimidated by the rags which
hung from their bodies, or the dirt which spotted their cheeks,
they advanced from the opposite sides of the street to the centre,
when they kissed each other with the same readiness, that two of
those animals which the Jews refuse to eat, would smell of each
other.'s snouts, after partaking of a spare breakfast
The Germans, to my surprise, do not hesitate to kiss the lips, a
custom which in some countries of the continent, and particularly
in France, is considered the extreme of indelicacy. To a French
lady no greater insult could ' be offered, even hy an intimate
acquaintance, than to touch her lips, though to a salute of the
cheek she will submit without hesitation. They universally em
brace, as they call it ; that is, throw their arms around each other,
mutually saluting the cheeks. The Christmas and new year's gifts
of bons bons, which gentlemen carry with them when they call to
congratulate their female acquaintance, entitle them to a salutation
of the cheeks of all those mademoiselles, for whom these presents
are destined. In a country where the restraints imposed upon
young females are so great, that they are not permitted to walk
with a gentleman, unless some One of the family, or a married lady
is present, such a custom is to us surprising.
I felt not a little reluctance at leaving Gottingen. even after my
short residence of three months in that city. There is something
in the recollections of a spot which was your first abode in a new
country, much more interesting than those of any subsequent resi
dence. Naples, the first city in which I resided in Italy, is much
more deeply impressed upon my memory, than even Rome, with
all its wonderful monuments of ancient and modern art. In such
a city every thing is new, and this novelty gives it a double charm.
The same objects seen elsewhere, cease to excite surprise, and
after a short ,time to attract attention. Though ^ottuigen is very
15

106 OOTTINOEK.
limited in its population, few cities of Europe present more no
velty to the eye of a stranger. After a two or three year's ramble,
one becomes satisfied with looking at palaces, churches, bridges
and other monuments of art; for his recollection, especially if he
has been in Italy, will bring to his eye objects of a much superior
character. But at a German university every thing is new. Its
arrangement, the professors, its government, the language, the stu
dents, all differ from every thing he has seen or heard before, and
in the novelty which they offer, he derives continued enjoyment.
I felt also very unwiUing to exchange my acquaintances here for
new ones, and above all to part with a friend to whom I had be
come strongly attached ; whose literary attainments, the brilliancy
of whose mind, and the minute observation that he has made of
the various countries of Europe, in which he has resided, make
him one of the most interesting of companions.
My rambles and rides in the vicinity, which had made me
famihar with the surrounding country, and particularly with the
feudal castles, which appear at various distances, had thrown an
additional charm around, my residence at Gottingen.
There are few terrestrial feelings more fruitful of enjoyment
than those experienced by an American, when roaming over these
ruins, or standing on one of these feudal towers, which stUl rise,
as if to awaken in his mind the recollections of their ancient glory.
Here his imagination becomes all activity, and the crumbhng and
fallen walls which surround him, transport him to a period which
has long since passed away. Amid such scenes, his imagination
had continually roamed in his boyhood, until they became, as it
were, the home of his heart. Several of these buildings stOl stand
near Gottingen, in all the beauty of decay, and crown the hiUs on
which they rest with a charm which is indescribable. Why is
this feeling always awakened by a feudal ruin, while our admira
tion of a palace like Versailles, or Caserta, with the history of
which we are familiar, is mingled with disgust at the ostentatious
profusion of the monarchs who erected them 1 The ages of
romance, as we usually term those which preceded and followed
the Crusades, were not those in which we should wish to have
lived. The knights of those days resembled, in the treatment of
their vassals, oriental despots rather than true heroes. They were

DEPARTURE FROM GOTTINGEN. 107
SO destitute of good faith, that none of them felt secure In a
neighbouring castle, until the honour of the occupant was pledged
with the overflowing cup. Even the ladies would hsten to the
songs of a Troubadour, which no lady of the nineteenth century
could hear without a blush. This period was one of violence, of
treason, of grossness ; and yet it is the age towards which the
mind looks with delight, and the very words that convey its idea
have acquired a poetic charm, which those descriptive of Roman
or Grecian grandeur never awaken. An edifice, partly finished,
gives rise to- no emotions which the mind loves to indulge. A
ruined church, or capital, excites only the desire of their removal,
and the erection of new ones i^ their place ; but a castle, where
" time hath placed his hand, but broke his scythe," has a magic
in it, which rivets the eye, calls dff every thought from the present,
and gives wings to the imagination. No analysis can divest one,
of the feelings which these edifices awaken ; no love of refinement
and of civilization can destroy their charm. Memory here assumes
her ascendancy, and will not yield to the influence of the judg
ment. In defiance of all your reasoning, your heart is mOst
powerfully impressed, and you leave a spot, which the recollec
tions of your boyhood have consecrated, with the greatest
reluctance. Deeply do I regret that you can not enjoy these
feelings ; for I would climb many a iower and battlement for you,
could you share the ¦ solemn pleasure I have so often felt in these
scenes of ancient gallantry and barbarism.
We left Gottingen at one P.M., and proceeded to Heiligenstadt.
A few miles before entering it, we were stopped at the Prussian
custom-house, and perhaps for the fiftieth time in two years, my
trunk was examined. This, however, was the first time since
leaving Cologne, a striking proof of the liberality of the German
governments, when contrasted With those of some other countries
of Europe. The next morning we were in the carriage, at an early
hour, rolling on towards Magdeburg. At the distance of twenty-
two miles. We entered Nordhausen, containing nine or ten thousand
inhabitants, which, as it was remarkable only for its manufactures
of brandy and oil, we did not stop to examine. We entered the
Harz mountains at three, P.M., and before evening beheld several
sunset prospects, worthy of the pencil of Claude Lorrain.

108 HARZ MOUNTAINS.
These mountains are less than seventy miles in length, and
from eighteen to twenty-eight in breadth. They are of moderate
elevation, the Brocken, the highest summit, being only 3,500 feet
in altitude. The Bruchberg, the Wormberg, and the Ackermanns
hohe, the next highest peaks, vary from twenty-six to twenty-eight
hundred feet. They are well-wooded with the oak, pine, birch,
and beach, and are rich in metals, which furnish a considerable
sum yearly to the revenue of Hanover. It is principally derived
from the mines of silver, lead, copper, iron, arsenic, zinc, &c.
which abound in that part of the Harz belonging to this kingdom.
The produce, from these mountains" to Hanover, in 1812, according
to Hassell,* yielded 3,059,649 guldens. They are not thickly
populated, containing on a surface of 1,300 square miles, only
86,000 inhabitants, or forty-three to a square mile. More than
two-thirds of the inhabitants belong to Hanover, and, with few
exceptions, are miners.
This region is the favourite ramble of the . Gottingen students,
and not to have seen the Harz, implies, according to them, a
defect in education, which can only be remedied by a fortnight's
ramble through them. As I have not seen the most interesting
part of them, I can only refer you to those who have for a descrip
tion. Like the Highlands of Scotland, they are the land of fable
and legend, and here the eye has seen sights, the account of which
can be believed only by a credulity that is boundless. Here,
before, and at the time of Cotton Mather, was the metropolis of
witchcraft, and on these mountains on the night of the thirtieth of
April, the witches, with the fallen spirits, held a great festival, a
witch demoniac carousal. The mountaineers, and a very many of
the peasantry, even at a distance from these mountains, believe at
the present time that they still keep their grand festival, and on
that night they make a pentagram on the threshold of their
doors, to prevent his satanic majesty, or any of his imps, from
entering their houses. To this custom Faust conforms, and to
? The produce consisted in gold, 6i marks; silver, 34,238 marks; copper,
1,404 cwts; lead, 41,949 do.; iron, 121,828 do; zinc, 2,987 do.; litharge,
15,7464 do. ; vitriol, 1286 do.; sulphur, 1,300 do. ; salt, 329,0554 do. ; 469,840
do, of fltono coal ; besides many oUier productions in small quantities.

SUPERSTITION. 109
the magical power of the pentagram, Mephistopheles confesses
that he must submit. " Gesteh' ich's nur ! Dass ich hinausspaziere
Verbietbt mir ein kleines Hiriderniss,
Der Drudenfuss auf eurer Schwelle."
In this great work, Goethe has availed Jiimself of this popular
superstition, in drawing a wilder and more fanciful picture, than
was ever created in the brain of a lunatic. To this scene Mephis
topheles is conducting Faust, when they lose their way. After
wandering through ravines and over summits, with nothing but the
partially clouded disk of the new moon to enlighten them, Mephis
topheles becomes quite discouraged ; but fortunately discovering an
ignis, fatuus, he calls it to him, and orders it to conduct him to the
festival. To shorten the gloom of their walk, Faust, Mephistopheles,
and the ignis fatuus, sing a song, exactly despriptive of a nightly
ramble among mountains, towards such a pandemonium, and pro
bably the finest specimen of jack of the lantern poetry in existence.
At a distance, they soon discover the grand assembly, towards
which they hasten, when a scene opens upon the reader, unlike
any thing else in the whole compass of literature. It is considered
by the Germa,ns unrivalled for its fancy, surpassing even the
Midsummer's Night Dream. To my eye, Shakespeare has
presented in that beautiful poem, as well as Milton in his equally
beautiful Comus, more powerful exhibitions of creative genius. I
am aware that in this picture of Goethe, there is often a direct
allusion , to German opinions and characters at the period when
Faust was written, which, as yet, no commentator has explained.
These, in a country, which is so ever varying as Germany, no
foreigner can fully understand ; to him much of the spirit will be
imperceptible. But, with my imperfect knowledge of Germany
and of the language, this scene produces a Stronger effect on my
mind than afly picture I have ever seen in foreign poetry.
The public conveyances in Germany are much inferior to those
of France. The Schnell Wagen (quick carriage) holds but six
persons inside and two out, while the number of passengers is
usually from a dozen to twenty..^ Those who are not in time to
take their places. in that conveyance, are packed into one pr more

110 MODE OF TRAVELLING.
crazy shells of carriages^ that do not resemble the former, more
than a tender does a ship bf the line. It is necessary also to send
your trunks to the office many hours before you start, and they do
not arrive until long after you, as -they are sent on by a species of
lumber wagon. The want of economy in this plan, is the reason
why the expense of travelling here is so much greater than in
France. The French diligence is drawn by six horses, and carries
twenty passengers, besides the conducteur, and but one postilUon
is necessary. To convey twenty passengers In Prussia, you need
the Schnell Wagen, with the conducteur and postillion, three
carriages carrying four each, and the lumber wagon with the
driver and a guard. The former carriage has four horses, the
others two each, and the last four. To convey twenty persons
here, the government must consequently, employ fourteen horses,
a conducteur,- one postilion, four drivers and a guard ; while to
convey the same number, in France, only six horses, a conducteur,
and one postilion are necessary. That vehicle in France carries,
besides the twenty travellers, several tons of merchandise, the
transportation of which probably more than half supports a line of
diligences, as they receive double or treble the ordinary price
from the great velocity with which they move. It is astonishing,
that a government lili|j; that of Prussia, so deficient in pecuniary
resources, should not adopt this improvement in travelling, and
thus for ever put a stop to this useless expenditure.
The carriages in which we rode over the Harz, (we were so
unfortunate as not to procure places in the Schnell Wagen were
not more impervious to air than a colander. In that elevated
region, even at this early season of the year, the cold was intense.
Though the mogn was shedding a silvery effulgence over the lakes,
precipices, and ravines around us, the beauty of the scene was lost
upon me. Had it been the night of the thirtieth of April, and had
we seen all the witches and imps that ever inhabited the fabulous
world, they would hardly have attracted my eye. Only one thought
occupied my mind, only one physical sensation was felt, that of
the frigidity of this mountainous region. I do not recollect having
suffered so much, at any time, as during this ride, and cannot now
think of those mountains, with all their legends and fairy scenery,
without shivering. Soon after the sun arose, the spires of Magde-

MAGDEBURG. Ill
burg appeared in sight, rising above the extensive plain which
surrounds it, presenting, in anticipation, to my mind, the pleasant
realities which a fire and a gOod breakfast always afford the
traveller who has been roaming in etherial regions.
Magdeburg, which is situated on the west bank of the Elbe,
contained in 1820, exclusive of its garrison, near 37,000 souls.
At the present time, there are not more than 4000 soldiers stationed
here. Its fortifications are very extensive, requiring at least
30,000 men to man all the walls. Thus garrisoned, it would bid
defiance to any force which could be brought against it. In the
late war, the allies did not venture to attack it. The Prussian
general Tauenzien encamped before it, merely blockading the
city, and the French kept possession until after the peace of Paris,
when it once more fell into the hands of Frederick William. This
city is considered by the Prussians as the strongest fortress in
Germany, and one of the four or five strongest on the earth.* The
fortifications have been greatly improved since the Russian war,
and are now considered capable of bidding defiance to every
enemy, except famine and treason.

* The celebrated aege and storming of this fortress, is one to which the
Germans stUl look with horror. The description which Schiller has given of
it in his " Thirty Years War," is enough to melt the heart of the most
experienced soldier. " Neither youth, sex, beauty, nor condition, could disarm
the fury of the conquerors. Wives were abused in the arms of their husbands,
daughters at the feet of their parents. No situation, however sacred, waa
exempt from insult. Fifty-threie dead bodies of women, who had been
beheaded, were found in the cathedral ; the Croats amused themselves in
throwing children into the flames. To some of the officers, who urged Tilly
to stop this carnage, he replied, ' Return in an hovw, I will see what can be
done. The soldier must be rewarded forJiis toils.' The town had been set on
fire, and it was not until the flames drove those hell-hounds away, that they
relinquished their pillage, but to which they returned as soon as the city, with
the exception of a few houses and two churches, was reduced to ashes. Thirty
thousand of the inhabitants perished in this carnage and in the flames/ After thus
blotting a cityand its inhabitants out of existence, Tilly Ordered mass and a
Te Deura to be performed, while the streets were yet moist with blood. He
then boasted that no such conquest had been gained, since tho destruction of
Troy and Jerusalem."

112 magDeburo.
They still exhibit to the stranger the prison in which the cele*
brated Bai . Trenck was confined. Probably no man, who has
not inhabitb the cell of an Inquisition, ever experienced more
bodily suffering than this gallant officer. That the princess Amelia
should condescend to love a simple nobleman, and that he should
not reject it, although be was a great favourite of Frederick and
had been for some time his aid-de-camp, was an unpardonable
crime in the eyes of the monarch. The ignominious and brutal
treatment he received, has left a black stain on the character of that
intellectually great king, which all his victories will not wash
away. In this prison, in a dungeon eighty feet under ground, with
sixty pounds of iron suspended from his body, he remained ten
years, buoyed up only by the hope of final deliverance. After his
escape, his evil fortune still pursued him. During the early part
of the French revolution he resided in Paris, in great indigence,
and finally added one more to the great number of foreigners,
whom Robespierre sent to the guillotine.*
, Magdeburg has an extensive commerce, particularly in its wool
len and linen manufactures. It derives also very considerable
advantages, from its being the entrepot for most of the goods
bound to Hamburg. There are annually more than two hundred
arrivals here from the former city. These vessels carry from
thirty to sixty tons. This city, like most of the fortified towns of
Europe, presents very few interesting objects to induce a traveller
to protract his stay.
Over ditches which are spanned by drawbridges, and between
walls whose black cannon open their mouths at you, you enter
and leave Magdeburg. The fertile land which the Elbe has formed
around it, in this region of comparative sterility, reminds the tra
veller of an Oasis of the desert. He soon enters the country of
sand, which is here and there spotted with evergreens, the only
objects, excepting a few poor vUlages, to relieve the eye from this
* As he advanced to the place of execution, he said to the surrounding
spectators, " Why are you so much astonislied ? What you see is only a conle-
dy after the manner of Robespierre." Monsieur Dieudonne Thidbault, in his
" Original Anecdotes of Frederick the Great," has given a very particular
account of Baron Trenck. The anecdotes which he relates, he received from
Trenck himself.

FACE OF THE COUNTRY. 113
monotonous barrenness. Over a fine road he rattles on at the rate
of six miles an hour (a very rapid rate of travelling for Germany,)
and if he is so fortunate as to have a seat in the Schnell Wagen,
he closes the windows and cheerfully resigns himself to the em
braces of " kind nature's sweet restorer."
The northern half of East Prussia, extending from latitude 52°
to the Baltic, as well as the northern half of Hanover, Oldenberg,
a part of West Prussia, and the northern half of Holland, fOrms
one immense plain, rarely broken by a single hill, where barren
ness loves to reign. The borders of the rivers where alluvial land
has been formed, are almost the only fertile spots in this immense
field of sand. Like the south-eastern territory of the United States,
it appears to have been formed by the- action of the ocean. The
Baltic seems to have been no less powerful than the Northern Sea,
in throwing up this immense sand flat, where no hill of any alti
tude rises to relieve the eye, even with its sandy precipices. It is
less densely populated than any part of the western half of Eu
rope. " Thou shalt earn thy bread by the sweat of thy brow," is
a sentence fully understood by every peasant who cultivates this
parched soil. It is by dint of effort only that he can gain a subsis
tence, and this would not enable him to pay his taxes, had he not
from necessity learned that economy is his best friend. With such
a continued monotony before me, I felt very- willing to exchange
all the sandy prospects around me for the charms of sleep, certain
as I was that my dreams would present a greater variety, and
scenes much more beautiful. Potsdam, through which we' passed
in the night, w.as the only object of interest. This city, which
contains the favourite country seats of Frederick the Great, we did
not then stop to visit, as it is but a short distance from the capital.
As morning dawned upon us, the towers and domes, and spires of
Berlin rose above the sandy plain which surrounds itj and in a few
minutes, the rattling of our wheels on the pavement, announced
our arrival in the Prussian metropolis. 16

114

LETTER Vn. Berlin, 1826.
Berlin is a very beautiful city, containing nearly two hundred
thousand inhabitants. ' Its resemblance to the large towns in our
country is greater than that of any other city I have seen in
Europe. The new part of the town has been erected within the
last century, and shows its recent origin in every edifice. Its;
streets are rectangular like those of Philadelphia, and are rather
wider than those of our towns. A traveller coming from France
or Italy, is not a little surprised by the contrast it presents to the
large cities of those countries, the narrow lanes of which, for most
of them do not deserve the appellation of streets, are so frequently
choked with the population which swarm through them. Genoa,,
for example, has but three streets which are wide enough for car
riages to pass, and some of them are so narrow, that a person six
feet in height may touch the opposite houses by extending his arms.
The narrowness of the streets and the great altitude of the houses-
often prevent the, inhabitants from seeing more than a handful of
sky, and on the pavements of many of them the rays of the snn
never fall. The intense heat of the summer, and the expense of
of erecting the very extensive walls that were so necessary in Itaty
during the stormy agesy when those cities rose into importance,
were no doubt the reasons for constructing the streets in this man
ner. The enjoyment of the shade which these lofty edifices afibrd
iij summer, is more than an equivalent for the loss of the sun's
rays during the few bright days of winter. Most of the streets of
Paris are also very narrow, and so dark, unless you live betwee»
the fourth and sixth stories, thsrt you feel as if the sun were very
sparing of his favours. So long accustomed had I been to the
narrow and dirty lanes of France and Italy, that it seemed like
entering a city of the new world, when the wide and clean streets
of Berlin opened to my view. In every other capital whieh I had

THE ¦CITY. lis
seen, many of the edifices reminded me of a (Bstant age. In the
north, the Gothic cathedrals, with their lofty spires and turrets
rising from every public square, transport you to the period of
semi-civilization, of which such edifices are the work ; while south
of the Alps, palaces, churches, and other monuments, rise before
you at every turn, reminding you of ages which have long since
passed away. Here no cathedral with a protecting saint after
whom if is named, lifts its proud dome or tower far above the
surrounding buildings ; no monument which time has soiled, relates
the story of ancient triumphs. Here you behold no religious pro-
ces^ons in honour of the Mother of God, or of Saint Somebody,
with a population kneeling to the wafer as il is carried from street
4o street ; no lazy, ragged canaille nor lazzaroni,^ that pass a large
part of their time in religious idleness, in honour of some one
whose name is enrolled on the calendar.
The houses here are from three to five stories In height. They
are built of brick, and coTered with a cement of cream colour,
looking, unless when minutely observed, very much like stone,
:and having an appearance of solidity, very unlike the light edifices
•of our American cities. In this wilderness of sand, stones do not
exist, and between this region and the Baltic, a quarry could not
" probably be found sufficiently extensive to construct a theatre.
This is the reason why the public edifices are almost uni«rersally
of brick, a material so rarely seen in other European cities. % The
aide-walks are almost all paved with smaill round stones, and are
very disagreeable for any bet a German to walk upon. Fortu-
ftunately for the Prussians, their feet are large enough to cover a
number of them, and they are thus able to keep their balance much
better than most travellers, who mak-e as many wry fiaces in walk
ing on them as the pilgrim who walked to Palestine on unboiled
peas. The public buildings here are grand, but inferior to those
•of the. large cities of the south .and west of Europe. The perspiec-
tive view of the street called unter den Linden, is not surpassed
by the ^Toledo of Naples, or the celebrated ""Corso of Rome.
Terminated at one end by the magnificent palace of the king, and
at the other by the Brandenburg Thor, the most splendid gate of
Europe, it presents a beauty superior to any street west of the
Neva, with the exception of the Rue Rivoli. A minute inspection

116 BERLIN.
shews you that these splendid edifices are made of brick, which
are so ugly as to require a coat of cement to hide them. This is
not always' firm enough to resist the northern frosts, and this
miserable material appears underneath, reminding you of a gilded
chain which only at a distance looks pure gold.
The Thiergarten, or Park, beyond the Brandenburg gate, is
the favourite lounge of all the fashionables, and of all who imitate
them, down to the humble mechanic. At eleven o'clock on Sunday
morning, the broad walk under the Linden is teeming with citizens.
The nobility and foreign ambassadors, with their families in car
riages or on horseback, fill up the broad roads on each side of it,
looking down with supreme satisfaction on the plain pedestrians.
At a distance you see the population suddenly stop, and from the
removal of hats you anticipate the arrival of the monarch, or of
some one of the royal family; but to your surprise, you see
nothing but a plain carriage drawn by two horses, and inferior to
most of those on the promenade. As it approaches, the hats con
tinue to rise above the heads of the owners, and unable to divine
why, you inquire of the officer who happens to be near you, the
cause of this sudden transformation of the crowd into statues ;
and are informed that " der Konig kommt," the king is coming.
Accustomed as you have been in other capitals, to see the
monarch preceded and followed by a long file of the Garde du
Corps, you still stretch your neck and look forward to catch a
glance at his face, and not until you observe the hats replaced
and their owners again in motion, do you learn that the occupant
of the humble carriage which just passed was the sovereign of
Prussia. Continuing your ramble you soon perceive all hats
rising anew, and to your inquiry why, are told that the cro^vn
prince is coming. Having been stopped but twice, you submit
to, it with all the necessary patience, believing that all interrup
tions of this kind are over, but you soon discover however, that
that you have just commenced your morning drill. Now prince
Ludwig, or prince Karl comes along, who must receive a similar
salute ; or perhaps they succeed each other so near, that before
your hat fairly covers your head, it must be again removed.
Dreading lest you may take cold by this long exposure of your
cranium, your replace your chapeau, hoping to escape all future

THIER«ARTEN. 117
interruptions, when suddenly appears a young boy on horseback,
who is saluted with the same respect. If your rule is, " In Rome
to do as the Romans do," off" goes your hat again to prince
Albrecht. ' Is the princess Charlotte, the wile of Nicholas of
Russia, or the princess Alexandrine of Mecklenburg Schwerin,
or the princess Louisa, wife of prince Frederick Charles of Hol
land, one or all of them on a visit to the king their father ; your
arm is ¦ raised again and again to your head, as your feelings of
gallantry compel you to pay this tribute of respect. . You inquire
with anxiety how mainy children the king: has, and learning that
there are no more, you conclude to continue your ramble.
Strolling on with the crowd for several minutes,' you exclaim in
despair " Monsieur Tonson has comei : again," as for the eighth
time you observe all hats rising in the air. You once more inquire
of your neighbour " who is it, do the royal family make the cir
cuit of the Thierg da-ten;" when you' learn that it is the princess
Amelia, or perhaps some one or more of her children. ; These
are soon succeeded by the duchess of Cumberland, or by prince
Frederick Wilhelm, or by prince Augustus, or by prince somebody
else, all hats' being elevated until you strike off' from the main
promenade into the narrow paths of the park, where youifind a
relief from the mechanical respect to which you have been sub
jected by the force of national custom.
The Prussians are almost idolaters of royalty. To themno-
thing terrestrial is so pure, so holy, so elevated above the world, so
worthy of reverence, as the monarch and his family. To them it
is the same thing whether his life has been great and glorious, of
the reverse ; at least, so far as external respect is concerned. They
do not regard the present sovereign as a man of talents ; they know
that it was themselves, and not their king, who brokfe the French
yoke.' Still were they to behold the great Krederick returning
from his conquests, victory would not heighten these outward'
exhibitions of regard. When Na^poleon passed through Beriin,
twenty years since, they received hiin very mtich as they do their
sovereign ; not because he ^Vas a favourite of the nation, but be
cause he was an emperor. There is something in this feeling.
incomprehensible to an -American, acciistomed, as he is, ' to see
talent and worth the passport to ' success, pr to fame ; something
/

118 BERJ.IN.
which, reminds- him of oriental servitude, and which makes him
feel that if the Prussians are worthy of freedom, the day 'of their
deliverance is in the distant futurity.
Berlin is almost exclusively a Protestant city- Of thirty-six
ehurches, only one is' CathoUc ; and that a small edifice for that
denomination. The inhabitants find that they go on through life
quite as well without the protection of the "Virgin, as those cities
which have churches dedicated to her praise, and to that of several
scores of the most prominent saints of the calraidar. In truth, as
it respects this world, they get along much better; for the festival
days of the Catholic church fill such cities with paupers, while
those of Protestant countries are comparatively free from them.
Europe does not present a greater contrast than an ItaUan and
a Protestant metropolis. Here the churches are <Jie only constant
external objects which remind you that you are in a religious coun
try. South of the Alps the Catholic religion meets yoo wherever
you turn your eyes. In the morning, when you awake, it appears
in the consecrated wax candle,- with a painted representation of
the Holy Spiritin the form of a dove ; in the crucifix ; or in the pic
ture of Santa Maria, or of some one of the saints, which is suspended
near your bed. Having left your couch to take a ramble, you
perceive it in the hundreds qf triangular hats and black and purple
stockings of Cardinals, Bishops, Priests, and Noviciates. At the cor
ners it presents itself in the form of a Madonna, with the infant
Jesus in painting or in sculpture; again in the crucifix carried
through street after street, succeeded by a long procession of the
clergy ; in men or women, with dominos covering their faces, and
soliciting money for the mother of God ; in a multitude of dirty, bare
footed, lazy monks, with faces as round as the moon, begging you
to give something to a poor capuchin, or to one of some other
order. At tlje next turn it appears in the sister of charity, arrayed
in garments as black as Tarturus ; or in a prostrate multitude
kneeling bareheaded to the host, and looking at you as you pass
by them, with your head covered, as if, with the expression, " yoa
will burn for this." You hear it in the matin and vesper bell, and
from every beggar who accosts you, smoothing his^petition with
the names of a dozen saints, to give more force to his entreaty.
You hear it again in the devotee who stands under a picture or

ENVIRONS. 119
crucifix and counts his beads, while he repeats and re-repeats his
Pater Nosterand Ave Maria, calling upon la Virgine beatissima as
his greatest protector ; and in the music which precedes a proces-
-sion in honour, not of God, but of the patron saint of the city
through which you are passing. You taste it in the meagre fish din
ners which you get on Friday. You smell it in the incense which
you inhale as you enter one of the churches ; and your nose per
ceives its effects in the dirty priest or monk who happens to be
near you. Sometimes you even feel it in the, jog of the devotee,
who reminds you that yoii must kneel, for Christ (viz. a wafer) is
approaching. In one word, it occupies all your senses ; being
seen, felt, heard, smelt, or tasted, by every traveller who crosses
the Alps.
The environs of Berlin are very tedious, presenting little besides
pine trees and windmills, to relieve the eye from an almost endless
monotony. Even the culinary wants of the capital have not suc
ceeded in covering the sand which surrounds it with a tolerable
share of verdure. Saratoga and Ballstown, dull and dreary as
they are, if they are not " infinitely more picturesque," to use a
favourite expression with English travellers, are certainly less unin
teresting. Were one to pass a millennium in the Prussian capital,
and never travel more than half a dozen miles from it, as many of
the inhabitants do not, he would not discover images enough to
grace a descriptive couplet ; unless he should cultivate his imagi
nation at the gallery, or in some of the picture shops, where fairer
lands unfold their beauties in the faint reflection of painting and
engraving. Notwithstanding this absolute want of natural beauty,
I have heard some of the BerUners speak of the fine views near the
city, to one of which they have given the name of Bellevue. This
must result from the same principle by which the icy cliffs and
snowy wilderness of Iceland appear to the eye of an inhabitant of
that island, more beautiful than the residence of a southern mo
narch. The Prussian has the most reason on his side, for a wil
derness of sandf with a tint of green, is certainly preferable to an
almost eternal winter. *
The Prussians are the largest men I have seen in Europe, ex
eepting the Hungarian soldiers. While in the crowds of France
and Italy, I could easily look over the heads of most around me ;

120 BERLIN.
but here a stretching of neck and tiptoe are necessary, when sur
rounded by a multitude of BerUners. The same superiority in
height is visible in the females, who will average from two to three
inches more than those of France and Italy. Their complexions
are very fair ; yet, owing to the transparency of the skin, or to the
excess of blood, their cheeks are much too red for beauty. The
Une between the red and the white is frequently so perfectly dis
tinct, and the; colour so abundant, that you would naturally suppose
it to be the effect of rouge, did not the cheeks of the Burschen and
the Philistines have the same appearance. The men have usually
shoulders so broad, as to convey the idea of great physical vigour ;
but their puny legs soon convince you, that this is not an indication
of strength, but of a want of symmetry. Their necks are often too
short for beauty, and their feet are so large that the shoemakers
must receive but little profit, at the moderate prices for which they
dispose of their work. It is very rare to see a well formed man in
this city ; and the few whom you happen to meet, have something
in, their walk or manner, or in their white locks, which makes
their tout ensemble not exactly the thing. Their hair is lighter
than that of the Scotch who live north of them, and not unfrequently
so nearly white, as toremindyouof an Albino. Still you find more
black eyes, and dark hair in Berlin than in most of the northern cities
of Germany, as several thousand French came here about the com
mencement of the revolution, whose blood has been mingled with
that of the Prussians. Notwithstanding this counteracting cause,
one-fourth of the inhabitants have hair lighter than the medium
between the Italian and Albino. There is no greater contrast than
the deep red cheeks you often see, and the locks of cotton that
surround them; or than the white mustaches curling in front,
and the mass of red by their side. To avoid the last incongruity,
many officers and soldiers. (for they are required to Avear this orna
ment) dye their mustaches black. As this tint is appUed only
once dr twice a week, you soon discover an equally powerful con
trast, " White roots and dark ends to this military emblem, which,
with.the deep red of their cheeks and the gaudy bands of their caps,
give as many colours to their faces, as there were in the coat of
Joseph. The females are not as M'cll formed as their neighbours west of

NOBILITY. 131
the Rhine, being usually too large for grace and elegance. Ther^
is nothing of that light airy tread, which makes the Parisiennes
the most beautiful objects on a promenade, of any of the daughters
of Eve. The large feet of the German ladies is the principal
cause of their want of grace in their motions, as well as the fact
that la mode is not studied here as much as in most capitals.
Their countenances are less expressive than the French or the
northern Italian ladies, and though they have more feeling as a
nation, the veil which covers it is less transparent. Like the la
dies of our own country, they are, to some extent, in the habit of
keeping their eyes fixed on other objects than the individual with
whom they are conversing, and when you catch those of a young
lady, it is but for a moment. This prudish retreat of the eye,
prevents them from doing themselves justice, as the expression
which may animate their faces, is most of it lost on the carpet, or
on some other insensible object. In intellectual cultivation they
are, as a nation, superior to any other on the continent. A French
or Italian lady will amuse you, a German will interest you, by her
conversation. In that class which we term genteel society, they
almost universally talk French. Not a small number of them
speak English, and are also well acquainted with the literature of
the two countries.
Not a few of the laws of Prussia have a powerful influence in
keeping alive the distinctions which exist between noblemen and
commoners. Frederick the Great,* when forming his army for a
peace establishment, retained only the nobility in service. The
other officers who had fought his battles, were forced to retire into
active life, however disagreeable to them it might have been to
them to change their professions. They were thus compelled to
* Frederick's reason for pursuing this course, according to Thiebault, was
the following. The nobility were so restricted by certain points of honour,
that they could not consistently with their noble birth, pursue most of the pro
fessions in which the commoners cheerfully embarked. As a state is the most
prosperous when all are employed in some active pursuit, by dismissing those
who were not of noble birth, and retaining those who were, the greatest
amount of profit would arise to the state ; for the former would be compelled
to engage in some active employment. The above mentioned writer says,
that he knew of but one officer among the commoners, who was not dismissed.
17

123 BERLIN.
rematin in a species of disgrace, until a new war broke out, when
commissions were again offered them. Under such a military
leader as Frederick, even the nobility fought bravely. At the
battle of Jena, when the kingdom of Prussia was annihilated in a
single day, the army was officered almost exclusively by noblemen.
In the war of 1813 and 14, when these distinctions had in a great
measure ceased, they performed wonders ; a signal instance of the
difference in the conduct of men, when a motive is placed before
them. The present king is now endeavouring to revive these dis
tinctions. All the officers who hold at the present time a rank
superior to a captaincy, are noble by birth ; or if, as has sometimes
happened, a commoner has risen to such a station by the force of
his talents, he almost always receives from the king the prefix of
Von to his name, to keep up this ideal distinction of superiority.
It is next to impossible for one who is not a nobleman, whatever
his merit may be, to obtain the place of secretary or attache to
any of the foreign embassies.
The same distinctions exist in civil life. Most of the offices
throughout the kingdom are filled by this tprivileged class of socie
ty. This is not all ; they are arraigned before a court, differing
from that in which most of the commoners are tried. In this no
citizen can be prosecuted unless he belongs to the army, the clergy,
or holds an office under government. If a nobleman is found
guilty of one of a certain class of crimes, he is sent to a Festung
or military fortress, which is an honourable kind of prison. If a
commoner is guilty of the same crime, he is condemned to a peni
tentiary. So long have these distinctions prevailed, that the citi
zens do not appear to be conscious that they rest upon an ideal
basis. The nobility generally, and most of the commoners whom
I have seen, believe that it is impossible for a country to exist
without them. When I have described to tiiem our own prospe
rity, as a powerful argument against their assertion, they miiver-
sally defend their opinion, by replying that fifty years hence the
same distinctions will certainly be found in the United States.
The Prussian monarchists, as well as most others in Europe,
with whom I have conversed when predicting the loss of our liber
ties, have always attempted to establish the justice of their opinions
by appealing to the history of the Italian Republics ; so ignorant are

NOBILITY. 123
they in fact of our institutions. Accustomed as they are to a re
stricted prefes, they have no idea of the influence of a thousand news
papers on a free nation, every individual of whom examines the pro
ceedings of government, either in those vehicles of intelligence, in
the magazines, in pubUc assemblies, or private circles, with the same
freedom, with which he would scrutinize the character of Herod
and Nero. ' When I state this fact, in reply to their assertion that ere
long we shall have a nobility in the United States, they shrug their
shoulders, look astonished, and reply that it is very indecorous to
speak of those who are above us in such a manner. One of the
nobility who was conversing with me a few days since on this sub
ject, inquired "if an American were to publish any thing against
the king of Prussia, would not your President punish him, if the
Prussian government should request it ?" I replied, that a Presi
dent of the United States had no power to do it ; but were he to
attempt it, he would soon find himself the criminal, and would
probably be removed from his office, for thus violating the rights
of a citizen. He looked amazed at my reply, declaring that such
a freedom as this was the ne plus ultra of Jacobinism. He felt
apparently that the character of the monarch was holy, and that
not a whisper of censure should be he heard, without a speedy in
fliction of punishment, on the individual who should thus dare to
violate the sanctity of royalty. Such feelings will be as incom
prehensible to you, as mine and those of most of my countrymen
were to him.
By the census of 1824, Prussia contained twelve milUons]of inha
bitants, more than two hundred thousand of whom were nobles ; or
one nobleman to sixty souls. Such a formidable array of nobility
is unequalled in the other countries of Europe, not even excepting
the two Sicilies, which have nearly two hundred princes, and dukes,
marquisses, counts, and barons, without end. I have seen but one
class in Europe, which bears any similar proportion to the whole
number ; viz. the priests, monks, and other orders of holy men whom
yon meet with in Italy. Here all the sons of a nobleman inherit the
title of the father. With the exception of a few families where en
tailed estates exist, the property is divided equally between them.
As they are very proud and usually have little enterprise, they are
not unfrequently so poor that many of our shoemakers, and barbers

124 BERLIN.
would not exchange situations with them, if they were compelled
to take their poverty as an appendage to their titles. A few of
them are wealthy for Prussia, though the number is very small
whose incomes exceed ten thousand dollars. Not one in ten has
an annual rent of one thousand dollars, and more than half of them
have not an income of five hundred. Their pride prevents them
from embarking in cpmmerce, and the theological profession they
very rarely embrace. As noblemen have backs to be covered, and
stomachs to be filled, as well as plebians, they must do something
for subsistence, or become mere lazzaroni. If possible, they
procure a lieutenancy in the army, which at the present time is offi'
cered almost exclusively by the nobility, or enter the profession of
medicine, or of law. Others occupy the places of secretaries,
and clerks, in the departments of the ministry, police, and post"
office, custom-houses, &c. In this manner they are enabled to
keep life within them and to support their titles with an income of
from three to five hundred dollars, which is paid to them for their
five or six hours daily labour. Prussia is so poor that even her minis
ters receive but a very small compensation ; and those who hold
inferior places under the government, of course expect but a pit
tance. Places, like most of those which are filled by the clerks,
in the thousand ramifications of the ministerial department, though
they would be rejected by an American of the least spirit, are
coveted here by the nobility, and when once procured, they feel
that their fortune is made.
The nobles with few exceptions, marry, only among each other,
but not a small number of them lead lives of single blessedness ;
for celibacy here is bliss, in comparison with matrimony, and titled
poverty. Notwithstanding their limited resources, they feel that it
is a great debasement to ally themselves with the children of
Hamburg or Lubeck merchants, whatever their wealth may be
As the majority have nothing but their titles, they are very tena
cious of these, and cling to the Von or Baron, or Graf, which is
prefixed to their names, very much like drowning men to straws.
To omit these prefixes when you address them, and to call them
in the true republican style merely Herr or Mr. is an affront which
they cannot easily forgive. The daughters of the nobility are
equally tenacious of the title of Fraiilein and were a native Prus-

TITLES. 125
sian to call them mademoiselle, they would screw their faces, if not
into shapes unholy, at least into those which would be very ugly.
The daughters of the citizens not unfrequently assume this prefix,
which is very offensive to the nobility, one of whom lately informed
me that nothing was more disagreeable to him, than to hear a young
lady who was not noble, called Fraiilein. I could not avoid smiling
and telling him that so different were my feelings, that it constantly
gave me pain to see such ideal distinction in Germany, and that the
principal cause of the happiness and prosperity of my own country,
is the equality of birth which is there universal. He could not
comprehend how a nation could exist without such distinctions,
which he asserted to be not only natural, but indispensable to na
tional happiness. Almost all the nobility of Europe with whom I
have conversed, have expressed similar sentiments. Even the
most liberal of those who apparently desire a constitutional form
of government, would be very unwilling to receive the liberty
which it would bring, if their titles must be sacrificed to obtain it.
I have generally adopted this principle in these conversations, that
the opinions which we form of every individual, should depend entire
ly upon his character, and not upon the rank of his father ; but with
all the arguments which my republican experience could adduce,
I have never been able to make the slightest impression on the
hereditary prejudices of a single German nobleman.
This love of title is universal among the Germans. Their com
plaisance in addressing each other in their billets and letters ia
extremely ludicrous. The titles with which an Italian addresses
his correspondent, are more than a plain Republican can under
stand; but before the superscription of a letter written by a
German, he stands abashed and confounded. In addressing a
Graf, the German title of Count, for example, you write An den
Hochgebornen Graf, Graf von Schmidt ; which in English, means,
to the high well born Count, Count of Schmidt. If the gentleman
is one of the Hofrath Professors, with his usual titles ; yeu write
to the high well born Mr., Mr. Knight and Counsellor of Court,
Schmidt, bearer of tlie Guelph order, if he lives in Gottingen, or if
in Prussia, bearer of the black eagle, or red eagle, or of the Louisa
order, &c. &c. Is the aforesaid Mr. S. nothing but a Baron, you
write to the high well born Baron, Baron of Schmidt, Should he,

126 BERLIN.
however, be a plain citizen, his letters are directed merely to
the well born Mr., Mr. S. citizen, in Berlin. Does Mr. Schmidt
happen to be a mechanic, you must not omit giving him his title
on the billet or letter whieh contains your order ; for should you do
this, there are ten chances to one, that he will not make you the
coat or boots which you so much need. To be sure of having a
new dress for your journey, or for the next ball, you must address
him as the hochedelgebornen Herr Herr Schmidt, Schneider oder
Schumacher, which, as well as I can translate it in the sense
they use this word as a prefix, means, to the respectably well-born
Mr. Mr. Schmidt, Tailor or Shoemaker. A simple peasant would get
nothing more than to the tolerably born Mr. Mr.  , Peasant.
When they address each other, they give not only the husband
his title, but also confer it upon his wife ; for she is not satisfied
with those which nature has given her, but lays claim to those of
her partner, as they are but of one flesh. In inquiring for the
former, you ask, ' is the Mr. Professor, the Mr. Doctor, the Mr.
Lawyer, the Mr. Minister of Finance, at home ; and, in speaking
to them, you must be equally on your guard not to omit these
titles. In calling to pay your respects to their wives, you always
inquire, is Mrs. or the Lady Professoress, the Lady Lawj-eress,
the Lady Counselloress* of Justice, at home ; and, in speaking
to them, you say, I hope that die Frau, (which corresponds with
the Lady, or with Mrs.,) Professoress has been well, since I had
the pleasure of seeing her. Should the lady with whom you
converse belong to the nobility, you always say in repl)^ Nein, or
Ja gnadige Frau ; no, or yes, gracious Lady. Will the gracious
Lady, or will the gracious IVaiilein, young Lady, grant me the
pleasure of her company in the next dance, or permit me to
accompany her to her carriage. As it takes many months to learn
these titles, you will easily perceive the frequent embarrassments
to which a stranger is exposed on his first arrival. To a plain
republican it is a labyrinth, to which that of Minos was almost a
highway. In truth, since my residence here, I have often been
under the necessity of holding my tongue, when my mouth was
* In the German language, there is a feminine substantive, corresponding
to every masculine title.

TITLES. 127
brimfull of conversation, and have found as much difficulty in
avoiding offence, as a helmsman often does in pteering his ship
through a dangerous channel.
The number of these titles often attached to a single name is so
great, that when you direct a single letter, it is difficult to say
where to stop ; and, in addressing an individual, to select those
which are the dearest to his heart. All of them you can not
neglect; and, to be complaisant, you need a vocabulary, where
they are arranged in the order of their value. An incident
occurred, a few months since, in this city,^ which will illustrate the
difficulty to which one is often exposed. A gentleman recently
died here, who, some weeks before his death, was promoted from
Hofrath to Legationsrath. A few weeks after his death, the
widow went to visit the grave of her husband. As she was
weeping over it, one of her acquaintance advanced towards her,
and coming to the grave, told her " how much she felt for her in
the loss she had sustained in the death of the Mr. Hofrath, &,c.,"
giving him his old title, as she was ignorant of his recent pro
motion. This was too much even for a weeping widow to bear.
She replied to her with great spirit, " I wish you to understand that
my husband did not die a Mr. Hofrath, but a Mr. Legationsrath."
It is the custom in Prussia, whenever two persons are engaged
to be married, to publish the engagement in the newspaper. This
is quite an improvement, as it saves the individuals not a Uttle
inconvenience from the impertinent curiosity of their neighbours,
as well as from the two or three months additional raillery, to
which, with us, the parties are exposed. I copy from one of the
papers the following advertisements, to shew you how the com
munication runs :
" I have the honour respectfully to give notice, of the betrothing of my only
daughter, to Mr. P**, of Newstead, Judge of the domain.
" Signed, The widowed Counselloress of Justice R***.
" As betrothed, present their remembrance, AMELIA R***.
EDWARD p***.»
Here is another :
"We have the honour respectfully to give notice, to our relatives and
friends, of the betrothing of our daughter H*** with Mr. Preacher II**, Junr.
of Berlin. " Signed, M**, Upper Counsellor of Justice for the Country.
LOUISE M**, born G**.

128 BERLIN.
When two persons are married, and leave the city to reside in
another part of the kingdom, they not only bid their friends-
personally farewell, but on the day of their departure, they take
leave of them a second time through the medium of the Gazette.
Here is an example : —
" On our marriage, which took place to day, we commend ourselves respect
fully to our friends and relations. As we are on the point of departing for
Konigsberg, from the heart we wish them prosperity." Berlin, Oct. 9, 1825.
" Signed, EDWARD L***.
CHARLOTTE L** bom S**.
You will thus see that the Prussians have a variety of modes of
appearing before the public, and of calling the attention of news
paper readers, at least for a moment. These are not all. "Whenever
a . father has an addition made to his family, it is considered
necessary to announce this important event in black and white.
This is undoubtedly very satisfactory to the proprietors of journals,
but to one searching for news from Greece, or from the South
American Republics, it affords very Uttle satisfaction for the loss
of more interesting intelligence, to learn that the population of
Prussia is increasing. The annunciation runs in the following
manner: '
" The fortunate delivery of my wife, on the sixth of this month, of a healthy
boy, I announce herewith to my friends and relations. " Signed, F. A. R***."
There is another custom peculiar to this country, at least I have
never heard of it excepting in the north of Germany. "When an
individual is sick, the friends of the family call and ring at the
door. In the hall they find a book lying on the table, in which
some one of the family writes every morning and evening the state
of the patient's health, giving all those particulars which would be
interesting to the friends of the individual. Under this morning
and evening bulletin, all those who call write their names, to
apprise the family of their sympathy. They never see tlie members
of it, unless they have some other object than ascertaining the
condition of the patient. This custom saves them from not a littie of

PRUSSIAN OFFICERS. 129
the inconvenienqp, to which the family of the invalid are frequently
exposed with us, by the protracted calls of friends, as well as from
the continual pain to which every new inquiry and melancholy
reply subjects them. There is something so unostentatious in this
silent sympathy, and at the same time apparently so sincere, that
it seems to me like one of the few beautiful vestiges which remain
of a poetic age.
The Germans scarce ever make use- of those arms which nature
has given them, abhorring not only the marks, but the sight of the
fist. The common people in their disputes, seem to be almost
unconscious that they possess this weapon. Even when under the
influence of violent passion, the termination of a dispute is usually
vox et prxterea nihil. When it assumes the form of a genuine
row, they use it in a manner that is ludicrously awkward to an
American or Englishman. The higher classes equally dislike this
mode of attack, as no insult can be offered so great as a blow. At
G ttingen there is a law among the students, that if one strikes
another, he shall be treated by every member of the university as
a dog, and whenever he appears on the side walk, he shall not be
suffered to remain. Here as in Italy, nothing but the blood of the
aggressor can wash away the foul dishonour, which such an offe^Jce
inflicts upon the recipient. In the Prussian army this opinion is
carried to a still greater extreme. If one of the officers receives a
blow from a person inferior in rank, (for here the army takes the
precedence of most other classes) his companions from that time
withdraw from his society, and ever afterwards avoid speaking to
him. Even challenging and killing the aggressor, if he is of
inferior rank, does not efface the blemish from the character of a
brother officer.
An illustration of this false idea of honour was recently dis
played here. A lady, at one of the public balls, having dropped
her bracelet, an officer of her acquaintance who observed it, took
it up, and put it into his pocket, with the intention of calling upon
her the next day and presenting it to her. A goldsmith, who hap
pened to be present, immediately accused him of pocketing it
with the intention of keeping it. To punish him for this insult>
he called at his shop the next day, and boxed his ears. The ser
vant of the goldsmith soon coming to his assistance, they succeeded
18

130 BERLIN.
in overpowering the lieutenant, and, after beating him, pushed him
out of the door, and threw his sword after him. As this occurred
in one of the principal streets, at 11 o'clock, A. M., it was impos
sible to conceal it, or prevent its soon spreading over the city. He
had now, as he thought, only three courses to pursue : to leave the
army, and remain in perpetual disgrace, for if he retained his
place, all the officers of his regiment would send in their resigna
tions ; to seek his fortune in a foreign country ; or to shoot
himself. The first, his feelings would not allow ; the second, he
could not do, as he was without resources ; he therefore concluded
to do the last; and, about fifteen minutes after the event occurred,
he entered his room, loaded his pistols, and shot himself. This
act, strange as it may seem in our eyes, was applauded by most of
the Prussians who conversed with me on the subject. He could
do nothing else, say they, for neither time nor distance could wash
away such a stain. God, said one of them to me, will pardon any
individual who takes away his own life from such a high sense of
honour. I told them that in the nature of things, it was no greater
disgrace to an individual to be whipped by two persons, than for
an inferior army to yield to a superior force. Had he been his
equal in rank, they repUed, your argument would be a good one ;
but as he was not, the only course left was to take away his life.
Frederick the Great, it is said, kicked his subjects in several in
stances ; but royal kicks are less ignominious here than plebeian
blows, although received in self-defence. His father, Frederick
William the first, was accustomed to strike his officers \rithout hesi
tation.* His brutal and despotic character qualified him for the
station of keeper of a menagerie, much more than for that of the
* An instance of the brutal conduct of William is related by Thiejiault.
" Irritated at the imperfect manner in which some troops were performing a
manffiuvre, he advanced full speed towards tlie major who commanded them,
and gave him several blows with his stick. This brave officer already ad
vanced in years, and much esteemed by the army, followed the king, stopped
his horse before that of his majesty, in the middle of the parade, and drawing
his pistol from his saddle, he said : " Sire, you have dishonoured me, and I
must have satisfaction.' At tho same moment ho fired one of the pistols over
the king's head, exclaiming, ' Inis is for you .'' then aiming tlie other at him-
«olf, he cried, ' This is for me,'' and shot himself Uirough the head."

JEWS. 131
sovereign of a civilized people. However much the custom of
giving blows may exist among the soldiers in the army, nothing
will ever reconcile the people to it. They regard it as the most
unpardonable insult which can be offered. A shopkeeper who dis-
Ukes even the smeU of powder, would tread the field of honour to
wash away such a stain. This idea seems to be fixed, and nothing
will probably eradicate it, but reUgion.
The Jews in Berlin are numerous, amounting to some thousands.
and they are in more affluent circumstances than in any city I have
visited. Before the year 1813, they were not allowed to hold real
estate. At that time the king published a proclamation, informing
them that if they would unite in the struggle for freedom, they
should be placed upon the same footing as his other subjects. The
devotion then exhibited to the cause of their monarch, induced
him to remove the obstacles to their enjoying the rights of citizen
ship. They are now permitted to hold real estate, though in
Mecklenburg, and in some other German states, they can hold only
personal property. The reason given for this restriction, is the
fear that they will eventually become owners of most of the real
estate, if they are permitted to hold lands. The Jews in Berlin
are treated by the Christians much better than in most other coun
tries of Europe. They do not, as in most other cities, live en
tirely separate, but visit extensively among the Christians. Many
of them are quite intelligent, and well versed in the literature of
their own and other languages. In the southern countries of Eu
rope, they are treated with great contempt and severity. In Rome
they are allowed to live only in a certain part of the city, which
is surrounded by a wall. There, at eight o'clock every evening,
they are locked in, and not permitted to come out until the next
morning. They are so crowded together, that perhaps no space
in Europe of the same extent, is more teeming with population,
than the suburb of the Hebrews at Rome. It was so filthy when
I visited it, that it was difficult to walk through it without a snuff
box in your hand, and unless you closed your eyeS, you were dis
gusted in the extreme with the dirt and slovenliness of the inhabi
tants. Some years since, a number of the Jews of Berlin seceded from
their brethren and built a synagogue, with the intention of esta-

132 BERLIN.
Wishing a purely Mosaic worship, and of throwing off all depen
dence upon their Rabbins, in whom they did not believe. As the
control of religion is a prerogative of the government, the Prus
sian administration chose to'interfere, and informed them that they
would not consent to their introducing a new sect, but that they
must be either Rabbinical Jews or Christians. As the government
would not allow them to purify their worship, they were reluc
tantly compelled to join the Rabbinical sect, alloyed as their reli
gion is with traditions and nonsense.
An American, mingling in society in this country, is much surprised
at the difference he observes in the topics of conversation prevalent
here, and with us. The strict censorship which has for so long a
period governed the press, as well as the dread produced by the daily
sight of gendarmes, and by a consciousness of the accurate and ex
tensive information which the government possesses through its
system oi espionage, prevents all appearance of political discussion
in a mixed circle. The numerous diversities of creeds which exist
in this country, as well as the very great indifference which most
persons feel respecting the dogmas of the Lutheran Church, have
excluded religion from among the topics of conversation in society.
In conversing with a gentlieman, if you introduce a political subject,
he looks around him cautiously to see who may be near, and then
replies to you in a whisper, conveying but an imperfect idea of his
real sentiments. So accustomed are they to a restricted press, that
there seems to be but one general feeling on this subject ; the neces
sity of silence. When alone with them, they will sometimes par
tially banish their fears, and inform you that every thing is not
exactly as they would wish ; but there are then so many explana
tions and suggestions added before the conversation ends, that you
are left in doubt as to their real sentiments. It makes ray Ameri
can blood boil when I see this cowardly spirit ; but I should pro
bably feel very differently had my neck been galled by the yoke of
submission, and were my fears ever alive lest my fate might become
as mysteriously dark as that of some of their friends or acquaint
ances on whom Suspicion has rested. Not only in Prussia, but in
every country which I have visited, has it been my constant habit
to express my thoughts on all political subjects, except as to the
administration of the government under whose protection I hap-

TOPICS OF CONVERSATION. . 133
pened to be at the time, with the same freedom as in my own coun
try. I knew that my passport would protect me from personal
outrage, and that the only inconvenience that could befal me, would
be an order to leave the country ; a punishment less disagreeable to
me than that of putting fetters on my mouth. When thus convers
ing, the Prussians look at me with surprise at my boldness, and by
a continued silence, leave me in doubt as to their real sentiments,
or give a whispered acquiescence.
The Germans are doubtless the easiest people in Europe to be
governed. They are much less ardent than the French or the
other nations of the South of Europe, and it requires far greater
aggression to rouse them to a public expression of their feelings.
So long have they been accustomed to submit to a foreign or native
master, that they appear to have no thoughts of making an effort
to improve their condition. It is true that this subject made some
noise in the universities a few years since ; but that excitement
ceased with the abolition of the secret societies ; and at the pre
sent time, no one thinks of opening his mouth upon it. A power
ful cause will produce no greater effect here, than one of a feeble
character in France. Such a burst of national feeling as has recently
been seen there, at the death of General Foy, will probably never
be witnessed in this country, unless some great event should agitate
the public mind. French blood is too hot, and too rapid in its
movements to allow them to remain tranquil; and if they do not
act, they will at least talk. This too they do in a manner which
often excited my surprise. At table d'hotes, in diligences, and in
private circles, the proceedings of government are discussed with
a freedom not surpassed by any thing in our political debates. The
only latitude we enjoy that the French do not, is our liberty of
speaking and writing as we please of the President of the United
States, while they are compelled publicly to speak and write res
pectfully of the king. In private circles, however, they call him a
bite, and a cochon. Nothing of this kind is heard here. If the
monarch is ever alluded to, it is to pass an eulogium on some act
of his life, or at the most to express a hope that he would pursue
a different course.

134

LETTER Vm. Berlin, 1826.
The present king, Frederick William III, is a very unostentatious
monarch. In this respect, and in this only, his feelings are repub
lican. His carriage is very plain, inferior to most of those you
meet on the promenades, and to many of those you hire to
carry you about the city. It is usually drawn by two horses, and
he rides without any person to accompany him, except one of the
officers of the army, or of his palace. Charles X. and the sove
reigns of Italy always appear in public, preceded and followed by
a company of forty or fifty of the garde du corps, who make a
passage with their drawn swords, through the carriages, carts,
donkies, and pedestrians that crowded the streets. The palace in
which he resides is destitute of all beauty, and though somewhat
larger is less imposing, in its exterior, than many of th^ houses of
our Boston merchants. The royal palace, where the Crown
Prince resides, when seen at a distance, is very grand, and one of
the most magnificent in Europe ; but like most of the pubUc edifi
ces of the north, when examined more minutely it is found to be
very deficient in architectural symmetry. The king from his great
dislike of pomp and parade, has resigned his residence to his son,
who has occupied it since his marriage. . Frederick and his sons
mingle in most of the public amusements, in the balls, masquer
ades, festivals, promenades,l&c. divesting themselves of all that
formality which is not indispensable to their station. The monarch
is represented as being very amiable in his private character, and
as such he is beloved by his subjects, so far as they have an oppor
tunity of beholding him in his familiar relations. Had he fulfilled
the promise which he made, and given them a constitution he
would now be universally beloved.
After the battle of Jena, Frederick WiUiam was deprived of

PRUSSIAN PATRIOTISM. 135
most of his dominions, and during the six following years, his
crown was at the mercy of Napoleon. When the remnants of the
French army were retreating from Russia, he called upon his peo
ple to arm in defence of their rights and to work out their own
deliverance. He spoke to them of national freedon and liberty,
and these words so dear to man when bowing beneath a foreign
yoke, roused the spirits of his subjects. With a devotion to their
monarch which has hardly a parallel in the history of the world,
they prepared for the combat. Clerg)'men, lawyers, physicians,
citizens, noblemen, and peasants, left their homes, repaired to the
places of rendezvous, and enrolled themselves in his service.
There they chose their officers, and the noble and the peasant
animated by the same spirit, entered the ranks and marched to
join their sovereign. To drive the enemy from their country,* over
which he had so long tyrannised, and to restore their king to his
capital and to the palace of his ancestors, they advanced to the
conflict. To them victory w^s a triumph, as it conferred honour
on their monarch, and as it gave him back his dominions ; and
defeat was only a stronger motive to make every sacrifice in his
cause. He published to his subjects that he was destitute of the
means to carry on the struggle ; and they offered him their pro
perty with the same generous devotion. No sacrifices were too
dear, no efforts too great, for them to make in such a cause.
Property, national existence, life, they freely risked for their king ;
believing that when he talked to them of freedom, he intended
to bestow it, and that when he called them his^ people, he felt the
affection implied in the name. After a succession of victories un
equalled by any thing in the history of Prussia, since the death of
the great Frederick, they bore their monarch in triupiph into the
capital of France. After so noble a devotion to hisinterests, they
had a right to anticipate the gratitude of t\eiT sovereign. His
heart was doubtless touched in some degree, and at the Congress
of Vienna, through his minister. Count Hardenberg, he promised
a constitution to his people. This he declared not to them merely,
but to the world ; and as they stiU believe, with the sincere intention
of giving it. Ten years have rolled away since this declaration
was made, and not a step has yet been taken towards fulfilling his
oromise. The millions of parents, and brothers, and sisters, who

136 BERLIN.
encouraged their sons and their brothers, when the cry of freedom
animated every Prussian's heart, to gird on the sword for the
defence of their king, have long looked for this promised blessing
in vain. Those who died in this glorious struggle, were at first
mourned as those whose death had been instrumental in restoring
the king to his throne, and liberty to, the nation. The soldiers
who survived and returned to their country counted all their sacri
fices as nothing, in defence of a sovereign, who was to elevate his
people to the rank of freemen. But years have elapsed, and
nothing has 'been done; years will probably roll away, before
they receive this blessing. Every Prussian now feels that his
sacrifices were useless, and worse than useless, for facts tell him in
a language that cannot be misunderstood, that he fought for empty
words'. The taxes which he now pays to support an arbitrary
government : the recollection of a son or brother who fell in the
hour of victory ; even the national monuments that he beholds, all
remind him that he has been deceived, that the dream of liberty
which inspired him, was a fairy structure, based only on the
promises of their king. " We fought, we bled, we sacrificed our
all for our monarch," said a very distinguished Prussian to me ;
" and our reward was tyranny and taxation."
This promise of Frederick William, was made to millions of
men, who had shown themselves worthy of being free. It was a
boon to be given not to them merely, but to succeeding genera
tions. It was to remain, hke the Magna Charta to Englishmen,
and the Declaration of Independence to Americans ; a monument
of the heroic valour of their ancestors, and a blessing to posterity,
through the progress of time. It was to raise them to the proud
rank of freemen, to break the fetters which had so long shackled
the mind, and to give them their proper place among the nations.
That the Prussians should feel an intense regret at this disappoint
ment of their fondest hopes, can not be surprising to us ; that they
should have patiently waited more than ten years for this blessing,
without seizing their arms and obtaining it by force, can only be
accounted for by the consideration, that they are far less prompt
to resist oppression than Englishmen or Americans. Such a
forbearance on their part, ought to furnish an additional motive to
the monarch for complying with his promise. We instinctively

THE KING. 137
look upon a man who defrauds another of his property, as destitute
of moral principle. But, in this case, every Prussian is defrauded
of a> right, compared with which, property is a bubble. The death
of the present monarch will, probably, destroy every hope of
acquiring this invaluable treasure. No subsequent king will
consider this promise as binding upon himself; and, unless the
people demand its fulfilment, with arms in their hands, they may
never become free until all the present despotisms of Europe are
prostrated. The reigning monarch is, in many respects, an estimable man,
yet such a breach of principle does this single fact exhibit, that I
find it impossible to respect him.* His friends and admirers jus
tify him on this ground. Prussia, they say, has Russia on one
side and Austria on the other. As those powers are opposed to
constitutional governments, he would probably meet on their part
with not a little resistance, and perhaps have to encounter a long
war which he would find it very difficult to sustain. Allowing
this argument all its weight, is he still justified 1 I am fully aware
of the colossal power of the Czar, as well as of the resources
whieh the fertile plains of Austria afford, to equip and sustain her
armies : I arn equally aware that a nation of half a million of
soldiers, which Prussian enthusiasm, in such a contest, would
soon increase to a million, when contending for a monarch who
who was compelled to draw his sword in defence of their liberties,
could never be conquered. Frederick the Great, with but little
more than one-sixth of the subjects of the present king, sustaihed
a long war against the united forces of Russia, Austria, and
France, and rose superior to them all. If he could withstand
these three powers, and terminate the contest with triumph, it
requires very little faith to believe that Prussia could now defend
herself. But there is no reason to believe that they would thus
oppose him, as Nicholas, the present emperor, is the son-in-law
* I have been asked repeatedly since my return, " is not Frederick William
a man of piety; I see that many of the letters written in Germany, and pub
lished in our papers, speak of him as a Christian in heart, as well as in name.''
To every such inquirer, I can only say, that when he has proved himself tcbe
an honest man, by giving his subjects the freedom he promised them, he can
call himself a Christian with a better face than at present.
19

ISS BSRLIN.
of Frederick William, and the cabinets of Petersburgh and Berlin
are now closely allied. Alexander gave a constitution to his Polish
subjects, and the Russian government could not with any plausible
pretext declare war against Prussia. Many of the sovereigns of
the German states have already given constitutions to their people.
Hanover, Baden, Wiirtemberg, and Bavaria, have done this ; the
latter country too bordering upon Austria. Besides, Prussia could
say to Austria, " so long as Hungary retains her constitution, and
has her regular sessions of parliament, I shall suffer no interfe
rence ;" and from Austria alone she has nothing to fear. But if
she must be attacked, I know of no rule in a case of this kind
but thisj jiat justitia, ruat cesium. Even supposing that Prussia
would fall in such a struggle, which is only among the number of
the most remote possibilities, and that the king must lose his
crown ; the consciousness that he had lost it in so noble a cause,
would be almost an equivalent to the personal sacrifice it would
cost him. It would be preferahle to walking the streets of his
capital and feeling that he was robbing every subject he passed of
his rights ; or to reclining on his couch with the thought when he
closed his eyes, that he would be held up to future ages as a
monument of injustice and ingratitude. How much more desira
ble to be an exile from his throne, with a soul calm and serene,
and a heart animated by the thought that he possessed the sympa
thy of every virtuous mind ; and with the consciousness, that not a
prayer would ascend to Heaven from his native land, that would
not bear with it supplications for blessings on himself and his
family, through time and through eternity.
The first wife of the king, Louisa of Mecklenburg Strelitz, was
a woman of most estimable character. She was very much
beloved by lier subjects ; and, although fifteen years have elapsed
since her death, they still speak of her with great affection and
veneration. From her decease in July, 1810, until November,
1824, the king mourned for her with a feeling rarely seen in royal
famiUes. He loved her intensely; and, in all his mifortunes, he found
her sympathy and fortitude his greatest support. She had been almost
the idol of his people ; and rarely has the dea'th of a queen covered
a nation with deeper mourning. In a journey to Vienna, some
tim« since, he met, either in that city, or on his way thither, the

PRINCES* or LIBGNITZ. 139
countess of Harrach, the daughter of an Austrian count of that
name, a nobleman of limited resources, and, in no respect, dis
tinguished. This young lady made a deep impression on the heart
of the monarch, who, after some time, solicited her hand of the
father. To marry one's daughter to a king, is in Europe an affair
so important to any family not royal, that you will easily believe
an affirmative answer was given. The negotiation was carried on
and completed, without the knowledge of the nation, or even of his
family. In November; 1824, the father and daughter arrived in
this city, and took lodgings at one of the principal hotels. After
they had been here about a week, the crown prince received a note
rom the king, requesting him to meet him in the palace at Char-
lottenburg. On his arrival there, he was introduced to the young
lady as his future mother-in-law. The marriage was immediately
solemnized by one of the court preacher. With the exception of
the crown prince, no one of his children was present, nor received
the least information of the transaction while in progress. The
annunciation of this marriage to the royal family, and to the nation,
was like a clap of thunder. The daughters of the king, who all
happened to be in Berlin at the time, wept with all that copiousness
of tears, which so humiliating an alliance would cause to flow.
The BerUners say, that Charlotte, now the wife of Nicholas, wept
from Wehmuth, sadness ; that Louisa, the wife of Prince William
of Holland, wept from Stolz, pride; and that Alexandrine, the
present grand duchess of Mecklenburg Schwerin, wept from
Dummheit, stupidity.
This left-handed marriage,* as those are called when there is a
great difference between the rank of the parties, astonished the
inhabitants of the capital quite as much as the family of the
monarch. They amused themselves with cracking jokes on their
sovereign for some time afterwards, in private circles ; and, had
they not feared an abode at Koepnic, they would have let out their
* This is what the Germans call a Morgantische Ehe, matrimonium ad
jnorganaticam. In such marriages the children can not inherit the rights of
the father. They are without title, unless the monarch gives them one, and
they do not inherit the property of the father if he has any other children. It
18 usually the custom for him tcFgive them their portion during his life. Such
marriages are not very unfrec^aent in Prussia.

140 BERLIN.
humour in caricatures. The monarch soon gave her the title of
princess of Liegnitz, settled upon her a very handsome allowance,
and did every thing in his power to elevate, her to the rank of
queen. She is now ?ibout twenty-five yearS of age ; and, although
not distinguished for her beauty, has a better face than most of her
sex. She is apparently very modest, and is far from being elated
by this sudden transition from the daughter of a poor count, to the
wife of a king of twelve millions of subjects. With the inhabitants
of the city she is popular ; but they will never cease to feel, that
their monarch, who once could boast of Louisa for his wife, has
lessened his dignity by this left-handed marriage with a mere
countess. The Germans estimate blood very much, as jewellers
do diamond ; and, when it has arrived at the purity of royalty, it
surpasses every thing terrestrial in value. Though the vrife of the
king, she is always preceded by the crown princess, and by the
daughters of the monarch. I have seen her at severaLballs, where
she took the third or fourth place ; for left-handed marriages do
not entitle the Ifidy, thus raised, to the rank of her husband.
Whenever she appears in public, she is compelled to submit to
these disagreeable marks of inferiority ; and, judging from her
countenance, she is far from being happy. At the Polonaise, she
is usually led out by some one of the nobility connected with the
court. When the Duke of Wellington was here, after he had
polonaised with the crown princess and the duchess of Mecklen
burg, he presented his hand to the princess of Liegnitz. The
Berlin papers, in describing that festival, say, " that the duke
had the honour to dance with her." If future historians should
describe Wellington's expedition to Russia, they will probably
commence this sentence with her name.
The Didie of Wellington stopped here, on his way to St. Peters
burg, and remained nearly a week. I had many opportunities of
seeing him at the review of the royal guard, and at a ball, at
which the king and all the royal family, the court, the foreign
ministers, and about fifteen hundred of the nobility were present ;
as well as on his arrival. He carries about with him an older face
than any man, of his age, I have ever seen, appearing from sixty-
eight to seventy years of age, although he was born in 1769.
As he was made a field-marshal of Prussia by Frederick William,

DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 141
soon after the battle of Waterloo, and as he still receives
the pay of such art officer, he appeared at the parade in the
uniform of the Prussian army, riding on the left of the king.
He looks very little like a warrior, and rides more like one
unaccustomed to the saddle, than as a commande)--in-chief, who
directed the armies of the Peninsula for many years. To his
exposure during that contest, as well as to the debilitating effects
of thfe climate of India, where he resided for a long time, we are
to impute this premature look of physical old age. The king,
who was born in the year 1770, has still much of the freshness
of youth; his flushed and plump cheek, indicating a much more
temperate life than the faces and persons of most of the monarchs
of Europe. The Duke has so conspicuous a nose, as to lead any
one to believe that he is a descendant of the celebrated stranger,
whose arrival in Strasburg caused such a contest among the
professors of the university. He was received, on his arrival,
with very little enthusiasm. When Blucher went to England,
he was drawn in his carriage by the mob, and cheered to his heart's
content ; while here, not a hat was raised, nor a mouth opened, to
greet the duke when he alighted. As he entered the ball-room,
where every eye was fixed upon him, not a handkerchief was
waved, not a bow, or a curtesy, made to welcome him. It is true,
that some of the ladies near the end of the ball-room, rose, as he
entered, but this was more the "wondrous man to see," than to
compliment him ; for they resumed their seats as he advanced near
them. The comparative frigid sensibility of the Prussians will
explain this want of enthusiasm. They have as much as any nation
when they are once roused ; but, like a lake imbosomed in
mountains, it requires a tornado to agitate its surface. At the
opening of the ball, he polonaised* with the crown princess, then
with the duchess of Mecklenberg, who was ' visiting her father,
afterwards with the princess of Liegnitz. The ball was very
brilliant, not in the beauty, but in the dresses of the ladies ; and
the music was probably never surpassed since the days of Orpheus.
* A polonaise is a Polish dance, halfway between a walk and a dance, It
is now so fashionable in Germany, that most balls are opened in this manner.
A gentleman takes the hand of his partner, and walks with hor about the ball
room. They are often followed by hundreds, who then form strait or serpentino
lines. This dance usually continues about ten minutes.

1-^ BERLIN.
No one who is a stranger to BerUn, or who has not listened to
the Austrian bands, can form an idea of the perfection which
instrumental music has attained in this country. The Germans
are inferior to the Italians in singing, as the humid winters of the
north produce too many colds to admit of that perfection of voice,
which you so ^ften hear with delight, south of the Alps. But,
though inferior to the Italians, they very much surpass the French,
and, l believe, all northern nations, in vocal music. They have a
greater passion for music than any nation of Europe, not even
excepting the Italians. It is made not merely an accomplishment,
but a study ; indeed, a part of their existence. To be able to
play on some instrument, is almost as necessary, in the opinion
of many of the students, as to understand Homer or Euripides,
and not a small number of them are able performers on the flute,
the guitar, and the piano-forte. Many of the gentlemen whom I
have seen, can play with great taste and feeling, and some of them
so well, that were they to lose their fortunes, their musical talents
would insure them a competence. They usually commence the
study of music at a very early period, often at six, eight, or ten
years of age, and, by continual practice, arrive at an excellence of
which we know nothing in the United States. Even the peasants, in
some parts of Germany, particularly in south-eastern Saxony, and
in several districts of Bohemia, pass many a leisure hour with the
guitar or piano for their companions. Music thus becomes a
prominent topic of conversation, and the different style of the
composition is as well understood as that of their authors or artists.
Every large city supports many bands of musicians for its concerts,
theatres, balls, &c., and the smaller towns have one or more. In
most of the towns there are a number of singing boys, whoUy or
partially maintained by the citizens, who sing at funerals and
at public worship; and, although their sacred music is inferior to the
Miserere of Allegri, a native of Rome would often listen to them
with the greatest pleasure. This subject occupies as much of the
conversation, and is as interesting to the Germans, as political
discussions are to our countrymen. The scientific manner in
which they discourse upon it, is as surprising to an American, as
the bold expression of our political sentiments would be to a
German. This land has thus become, above all others, the land of
melody.

GERMAN MUSIC. 143
Music is a subject of consequence, not merely to the Common
people, but to every government and monarch of Germany. To
have the finest opera in his capital, is a source of almost as much
pleasure to the sovereign, as the possession of the best garde du
corps of Europe. The number of strangers who winter in the
metropolis, and still more thaf-of foreigners, depends not a little
on the character of the opera. You frequently hear travellers in
this country remarking, " I shall pass the winter in such a place,
as the opera is very fine there." To give the greatest reputation
to their operas, the monarchs often invite the most distinguished
musical composers to their capitals, and pension them. - This
department is placed entirely under their direction, and by
them the preparations for a new 6pera are made. Painters,
tailors, mantuamakers, the orchestra, are all set in rhotion, and
after expending from twenty to thirty thousand rix dollars, it is
presented to the public. Should it succeed, and have a run of
twenty or thirty nights, it will principally repay the expense of
getting it up ; if not, the government or the monarch makes up the
deficiency. In addition to the opera, there are numerous "concerts
which are patronised by the court, the nobility, the royal family,
and at the religious festivals the most celebrated pieces of Handel,
Hayden, and others are performed. Composers who arrive at
eminence, become not unfrequently the favourites of monarchs,
are elevated by them to the rank of noblemen, and receive from
them much more substantial favours. In the eyes of the majority
of the nation, they are persons of more importance than any who
fill the professional departments,, or the chE^irs of the university.
When their pieces are performed, they are often called upon the
stage by the applauding assembly, from whom they receive the
strongest marks of approbation. As music is thus encouraged,
men of the first talents embark in this profession, and to arrive at
eminence is the summit of all their wishes. They are admitted
into almost every sdciety, and even the singers when they rise to
the first class, are often met in the most fashionable circles. Most
of the musicians who have visited our country from the continen*,
are the fifth and sixth rate performers here, and who, unable to
procure subsistence at home, cross the Atlantic in quest of their
bread.

144 BERLIN.
The Germans admire their national music much more than that
of any other country, and assert that the operas of Mozart, Gluck,
and Weber, make far more powerful impressions on the heart, than
those of Ilal}^ They complain of the Italian operas as destitute
of deep feeling, as agitating only the surface of the heart, while
those of their own country awaken every passion. They compare
the former in their effects to the tragedies of Cornneile and Racine ;
and their own to those of Shakspeare. This I believe is true,
wheii you speak . of the operas of Mozart, whose Don Juan, and
Magic Flute, exhibit much of the deep passions and creative power
of Hamlet, and the Midsummer's Night Dream. There are how
ever in the best operas of Italy, ilMatrimonio Segrefo of Cimarosa,
and Nina, osia la pazza per amore of Paisiello for example, a
melody and a depth of passion, which to my feelings are over
powering. If to the music of that country " plants and flowers do
not ever spring" as to that of Orpheus, there is an animation, a
sprightliness, a melodious voluptuousness, which remind you, to
say the least, of the mighty power of the fabled musician. The
Germans, me judice, are more distinguished for their military
music, their waltzes, and their airs, than for their operas, those of
Mozart excepted. Of these there is a great variety, many of which
are so inspiring, that no one who has once listened to them, can
derive much enjoyment from those we are accustomed to hear in
the United States, or even from those played by the royal bands of
Paris. In Germany, their military music is performed vriih such
taste and perfection of time, that when fifty or eighty musicians are
playing, you could believe that you are listening to a single instru
ment of mighty power, embracing every variety of sound. The
Austrian bands which I have often heard in the Tyrol, in Lombardy,
Tuscany and Naples, commanded universal admiration, and the
Romans who pride themselves on being the first instrumental
performers of Italy, acknowledged their own inferiority. I have
seen in Florence between two and three thousand persons of every
class of society, when listening to an Austriapband, kept in breath-
Jess silence for fifteen or twenty minutes, and then breaking forth
into one burst of applause, that filled the Pergola ^vith thunder.
This was repeated again and again, during the concert, until the
assembly was almost as much fatigued with their muscular and

MUSIC OF BEETHOVEN. 145
oral exercise, as the musicians with their performance. "The
Austrian band has arrived," seemed to the Florentines the Inost
important event in their horizon; and, although they hated that
nition, and called them asses, they acknowledged that their music
was heavenly, and almost divine. The instrumental music of the
Prussian army is equal to that of the Austrians, and the bands of
the royal guard are superior to any I have yet heard in Europe.
To hear them perform, it is worth a travellers coming much out of
his way, for he will find that they have attained the same perfection
in music, as the artists who formed the Venus and the Apollo had
in sculpture. The best performers from these bands were selected
to play at the ball at which Wellington was present. I felt then, as
has often been the case since my arrival here, that the beau ideal
of music had become a reality in this country; I seenled to be
living in a world of melody.
The best composer now living in Germany, is Beethoven, who
resides at Vienna. At the age of thirteen, he began to compose
music, and, at twenty, went to Vienna, where he studied with
Mozart. The Germans esteem him the most distinguished musi(^al
genius of Europe, except Moizart, whom they declare to be as
much superior to "every other, as Shakspeare to every other
dramatic author. He has written but one opera, Fidelio, which
has not met with great success. Among his pieces, the most
celebrated are his Symphonies, which are universally admired,
Jesus am Oelberge, (Jesus on the mount of Olives), Adelaide,
Fancy Pieces, Rondo en Ut, Quartetten, Clavier Sonaten, Trauer
March, &c. The last of these, as a display of grief at the funeral of
a hero, is equal to any thing within my knowledge. Every note
seems to be a burst of lamentation and woe. When reading
Shakspeare, or Goethe's Faust, you will find nothing more eloquent
than this music. To be able to compose it, it would seem as
necessary that the mind should be as completely abstracted from
the world around it, and as perfectly absorbed in the subject of its
pieces, as the former with the characters of his plays, or the latter
with the human heart and spiritual world. He is the Byron of
music, and his compositions show an equal power of passion to
that found in Childe Harold, in Cain, or in Manfred. Strange as
20

146 BERLIN.
it may seem, this composer is so deaf, that no musie strikes his
ear, besides the loud swell of the military bands, or that of the
orchestra. He reads it, however, as a poet would read Macbeth,
and finds in its perusal as powerful eloquence, and as intense
pleasure. The other celebrated musical composers are Weber, the director
Of the opera at Dresden, Spontini of that of this city, and Spohr
of that of Cassel. The Freisjiiitz of the former gives its author
a rank among the first composers, at least if we are to rate its
merit by its very great success. His other operas, Euryanthe
and Preziosa, have not had the same success, though the latter is
very much admired. The music of Spontini is more adapted to
the parade than to the opera house, which it fills with thunder.
He has hi? admirers here, and his pieces, particularly Ferdinand
Cortez, attract a full house. As he is director of the opera, he
introduces his own music quite as often as the inhabitants of this
city wish, and much more frequently than strangers desire, who
are not by a long residence, accustomed to his thundering strains.

147

LETTER IX.

Berlin, 1836.

A ride of two or three hours from BerUn, brings you to Potsdam,
the famous residence of the great Frederick. Though Frederick
William I. and II. expended large sums in adorning this city, still
it is indebted for most of its beauty to Frederick the Great. The
town, has lost much of the bustle and activity formerly seen here,
though still containing near five and twenty thousand inhabitants.
Its streets are very solitary, and were it not for the royal guard, a
part of which is always stationed here, it .would present much of
the tranquillity of a village. . Few sounds are indeed heard, ex
cept the swell of the Prussian-bands, which fill the air with their
thrilling music, and the loud word of command eoming from mouths
covered with mustaches, in. all the harshness of German gutturals.
The royal chateau within the city is the residence of the present
monarch when he visits Potsdam, which he rarely does, as Char-
lottenberg, small as it is, is a palace more in unison with his taste.
The regularity, beauty, and neatness of this city, in which respects
it is only inferior to Berlin, have never made it a favourite country
residence of the inhabitants of the metropolis. Its population
belongs- almost exclusively to that class who obtain their bread by
becoming subservient to the wants of others ; and as those whom
they serve are principally soldiers, there is very little here to attract
foreigners. Frederick the Great, not liking the palace within the town, de
termined, after the conclusion of the seven -years' war, to erect
one where he should be less exposed to observation, and where he
might pursue his studies with less interruption. He accordingly
selected the hill and grounds back of the Brandenburg gate, on
which he erected the palaces, making the Sanssouci his favourite
abode. With the exception of one of the winter months passed
at Berlin, this was his constant residence, when not engaged in

148- ' POTSDAM.
war, or travelling in his provinces. If he did not succeer? in
making a Versailles of Potsdam, which his limited resources would
not allow, he has shown much more taste than Louis XIV. with
all his immense expenditure and magnificence. These palaces are
situated in a beautiful garden, where the trees are allowed to grow
in all the luxuriance of nature, without any fear of the shears and
pruning knife, instruments which in the west of Europe punish
every daring twig and branch for their temerit)-. Here are no
walls of green between which you walk, as in the streets of a
city, bounding the View by their foliage, except at the ends of the
avenues ; no trees so completely altered by trimming, as to remind
you of the skill of the perruquier : but serpentine walks, present
ing you at every turn a new view, groves inviting you to linger
under their shade, while on the verdant grass beneath them you
feel disposed to recline, and dream over the days of your boyhood.
To give it as far as possible a classic appearance, he has adorned
the garden and the distant hills with several Grecian ruir.s, not
more appropriate here than they would be in the ^prairies of
Illinois. In the palace of Sanssouci, the guide still points out to you the
room in which Frederick slept ^and died, whh all the articles of
furniture necessary to the king and the literary student; as well
as the gallery in which he walked, and the clock, which he tells
you with a most serious face, stopped the very moment the sove
reign died. This, in Italy, would have been imputed to the influ
ence of the Virgin, or of some Saint ; but here, the negUgence of
the servants to Wind it up during the sickness of their master, will
be a Sufficient explanation. I entered his Ubrary with great plea
sure, feeling no little curiosity to see the taste of this Uterary mo
narch. It remains in precisely the same state in which he left it
at his death. It is small, containing less than a thousand volumes.
He had four other libraries exactly like this, one of wliich was at
the Palace in Potsdam, one in BerUn, anotiier at Charlottenberg,
and a fourth at his palace near Breslau. My knowledge of his
love of French literature, led me to anticipate finding most of the
works in that language, but I was surprised to discover that the
authors of every other had been excluded, not excepting those of
his own country. An Englishman would hardly forgive him for

POTSDAM. 149
not admitting Shakspeare and Milton to stand by the side of Ra
cine and Corneille ; but to his ear nothing was poetical which did
not jingle in French verse. As he despised the -poetry of Ger
many, and believed that the richest language of Europe was not
susceptible of becoming poetical, one must excuse him for not ap
preciating the merits of ciur great poets, of whose works he was
ignorant. In his library I did not discover even a German trans
lation of a foreign writer. His countrymen of the present ,day,
(ienstire him very severely for the low estimate he formed of their
langiiage and literature, and Ihifik that his strong prejudices in
favour of the works of French authors, and against those of his
country, were^not only very unpatriotic, but that they did much to
prevent their best-writers from acquiring that influence over the
nation which they merited. He entertained so contemptuous an
opinion of the euphony of his own language, that he proposed to
soften its asperities by terminating every word v.itli a vowel, in
order to give, it the Italian melody; little dreaming what poetical
perfection it was capable of .acquiring, when rendered harmonious
by such minds as Goethe, Wieland, and Schiller. He was, hoV-
ever, in some measure excusable for his low opinion of German
poetry, for until the latter part of his reign, this country had pro
duced no poet deserving national ' fame. The great influence of
this monarch, gave a popularity to French Uteraturethroughout the
north of Germany, and for years the nation was almost as tinwill-
ing as Frederick to read any thing which did not appear in a
French costume. Klopstock, Wieland, Herder, and Lessing,
broke this charm, and some years before the death of Frederick,
the nation began to suspect, that the king of Prussia was not as
invincible in the republic of letters, as on the field of battle. The
taste for English literature arose about this time, and it was npt a
little increased by the criticisms of Lessing, Herder, and others.
Frederick, whose mind had been formed in tHe school of French
literature, and who was more vain of his critical than of bis mili
tary talent, could not have been expected, in his old age, to change
those opinions which had been strengthening for more than half a
century. He accordingly went to his grave, confident an the be
lief that the literature of his own and every other modern language,
except the French, was unworthy of his perusal. He was very

150 POTSDAM.
desirous that his capital should become an intellectual rival of
Paris, and for this purpose he re-organized the Academy of Sciences
and Belle-lettres of Berlin. This academy had been established by
queen Charlotte, the second wife of Frederick the First, and the
celebrated Leibnitz was chosen its first president. Neither that
monarch, nor his son Frederick William the First, felt interest
enough in literature to place it on a firm foundation ; and when
Frederick the Great ascended the throne, it can hardly be said to
have existed. As he did not speak his native tongue very cor
rectly, it is not surprising, with his prejudices in favour of the
French, that he should have required all memoirs to be written, or
at least, published in that language. He chose a Frenchman, the
celebrated mathematician and philosopher Maupertuis, its director
and modeUer, and invited many of his countrymen to Berlin, whom
he pensioned. Had Frederick endeavoured to excite the Uterary
ardour of his countrymen at this period, he would have succeeded
in the formation of a national literature. Greater effects would
have resulted from his patronage, than even from that of Louis
the Fourteenth, and he would have soon discovered that German
poetry is as much superior to the French, as the language surpasses
that of France in richness and flexibility. He found, however,
that it was as difficult to transform Germans into Frenchmen, as
to make the plants of a southern clime become indigenous in the
sands and cold regions of the north ; and, after all his efforts and
expenditures, Berlin was but a faint reflection of Paris. His ex
ertions kept alive for many years a partial taste for the literature
of France, but soon after his death, it ceased even in the metro
polis, the inhabitants of which now regard him as having been the
greatest obstacle to a national literature that has ever existed in
Germany. In his library you see French translations of Homer, Thucidides,
Herodotus, Plutarch, Sallust, Virgil, Cicero, Livy, Tacitus, Caesar,
(fee. ; the works of the principal French Dramatists ; those of Bos-
suet, Montesquieu, Flechier, Voltaire, Boj-le, Rousseau, &c. Leav
ing the library the guide conducts you through a succession of
rooms which do not merit much observation, to that which Voltaire
occupied, when he was a guest of the monarch. His table, his bed,
and even the peg on which his perruque was suspended, are the

POLITICAL IMPORTANCE OF PRUSSIA. 151
objects he now points out to you as particularly worthy of obser
vation. The new palace, about three-fourths of a mile from Sans
souci, is much superior to the latter in architecture ; and notwith
standing its depth of window, it has one of the finest facades in
Europe. Like the other public edifices in this part of Prussia, it
is built of brick, a material unworthy of so large a building. Had
it been placed where Sanssouci now stands, it would have added
very much to the distant view. It is at the termination of the gar
den, over most of which one might easily roam, without being con
scious of its existence, so entirely is it obscured by the lofty trees
which rise near it. The great gate leading to it, with its semicir
cular sweep of columns, is the noblest entrance to a garden I have
seen in Europe.
The political importance of Prussia has been surprisingly aug
mented during, the last ninety years. Frederick the First, the
Elector of Brandenberg and Duke of Prussia, inherited the posses
sions^ of his brothjer in the year 1688. His vanitf led him in 1701
to assume the title of king Prussia, when he took the name of Fre
derick the First. Frederick WilUam the First succeeded his father
in 1713, and reigned until 1740. At his death he left to his son,
Frederick the Great, two millions two hundred and forty thousand
subjects, including his army of 70,000 men, and a territory- of
2,190 German Square miles. ¦ Frederick II. at the beginning of his
reign, laid claim to the duchies of Glogau and Sagan, which Maria
Theresa rejecting, the first Silesian war was the conseqilence.
This was succeeded by others, in which the Prussian king acquired
not only the reputation of being the first general of the age, but
his conquests,. and the division of Poland, elevated his kingdom to
the second rank of European states in population. The admirable
system of discipline which he introduced in his army, and the
economy which pervaded every department, of his administration,
ebon raised Prussia, in resources and power, to the first rank
among the European kingdoms. His subjects, at his death, had
increased from less than two and a half to six millions, and his army
to two hundred thousand men : while his treasury contained
seventy millions of rix dollars. No monarch ever ascended the
throne under more favourable auspices than his nephew and suc
cessor, Frederick WilUara II. the short war in Holland in 1788,

152 BERLIN.
and that on the Rhine In the early part of the French revolution,
and the equally short campaign in Poland in 1794 and 95, and
above all, his extravagance, so diminished his resources, that at
his death, he had not only dissipated the treasures amassed by his
uncle, but left the nation a debt of eighteen milUons of rix dollars.
Since the peace of Paris, Prussia has greatly extended its territory
and population. The accession of the Rhine provinces and Saxon
Prussia, have added to its extent 1270 square miles, or a quarter of
its present territory, and to its population more than 4,250,000 in
habitants. In 1818 it contained 10,790,000 inhabitants; in 1822,
11,664,000 ; and in 1824, 12,003,810. Its present territory is 5,018
German square miles, each of which is between twenty-one and twen
ty-two English. Prussia is now the fourth power on the continent in
population ; and although she is not able, single handed, to make
any conquests from the other three, she wbuld become a formida
ble ally to either of them. The great extent of this kingdom, how
ever, is an essential evil ; as Russia bounds her eastern border,
Austria a part of the southern, France and Holland on the west;
to say nothing of the smaller German states which lie contiguous.
Thus almost surrounded by nations, the smallest of which, with
the exception of Holland, has more than double her population,
she is under the necessity of maintaining a very large army to be in
readiness for every emergency. Her situation is -doubly dangerous
from her division into two parts, which are separated from each other
by' the states of Hanover, Hesse Cassel, and Brunswick. This
division, and the length of the narrow province of East Prussia, so
much increase the extent of her boundary, that in the event of war
with any two of these powers, she Would be compelled to augment
her present army to an amount sufficient to cover her line with
troops. With but little more than one-third of the population of
France, her present boundary is seven hundred miles greater.
With the exception of Sweden and Denmark, there is no kingdom
in Europe which has so extensive a border in proportion to the
number of its inhabitants, and except Portugal, there is none which
nature has made so difficult to defend.
The situation of Prussia is rendered still more unfortunate by the
heterogenous character of her population. Her subjects are spread
through the Rhine provinces, through Prussia Proper, and through

POLITICAL IMPORTANCE OF PRUSSIA. 153
Prussian Poland. The Rhine provinces on the western part of
Prussia, contain more than three millions of inhabitants. Although
purely Germans, they have been for so, short a period subjects of
the present monarch, that they have not yet begun to feel like
Prussians, and I believe are very far from being gratified with their
incorporation. During the reign of Napoleon, the Rhine was the
great avenue of commerce for the western part of Germany. The
free navigation of that river awakened the enterprise of those coun
tries which border it ; and their wealth, instead of lying dormant,
was brought into circulation. This noble stream was then covered
with vessels, and every class of society, from the nobleman to the
peasant, felt the auspicious influence of free navigation. The
restraints imposed by the Prussian government, on the navigation
of the Rhine, have withered all enterprise. Their taxes are now
much heavier than during the continental struggle, while their
means of paying them are very much diminished. This ridiculous
and narrow-sighted policy has rendered the monarch as unpopular
in these provinces as he was in 1815, when they were united to his
kingdom ; and so long as it continues, there is no reason to believe
that the inhabitants will acquire a national character. As this part
of Prussia is separated from the eastern, the king would probably
lose in the first war with France three millions of his subjects, and
who, at the present time, would much prefer being united to that
country, than to remain, under si^ch circumstances, even the sub
jects of a German prince. More than two-thirds- of the population
of these provinces are Catholics ; and- though neither ignorant
nor superstitious, like the Austrians, they are still much attached
to their religion. In a war with France, this feeling would have
not a little influence in favour of that country. From Paris to Co
logne, the centre of these provinces, the distance in a straight line
is not so great, by sixty miles, as from BerUn to that city. The
Prussian njietropoUs, too, is situated npt more than one hundred
and twenty miles from the western boundary to the eastern part
of Prussia. As most of the population of this division are east
of the capital, it would be necessary for the king of Prussia to
march his troops from a great distance, and to carry on such a war
under great disadvantages. Prussian officers, inflated with the
recollection of the victories gained during the late contest, will say
21

154 BERLIN.
to you, as they have often done to me, that it is easy to defend
their country against the French ; but every other German will
admit its difficulty without hesitation.
The eastern division of Prussia, viz. East Prussia, and the PoUsh
provinces, is bounded by the dominions of the Czar. Against this
most powerful enemy, Frederick WilUam would find it very diffi
cult to oppose such a force as would protect a frontier, of between
five and six hundred miles. Were he secure of the attachment of
all his subjects, he might trust to his army and Landwehr, as a
sufficient barrier against the Autocrat. But this part of his do
minions is inhabited principally by his PoUsh subjects, who feel
very little attachment to their monarch, less even than those who
live on the Rhine. To reconcile the Russian Poles to his govern
ment, Alexander gave them a constitution, which has at least, made
them tolerably satisfied with their present situation, as they have
long since despaired of seeing Poland again take her rank among
the nations. The king of Prussia, on the other hand, noth withstand
ing his promise twelve years since, to give his German subjects a
constitution, has not given one even to Prussian Poland. As they
cannot avoid contrasting their situation with their brethren, they
feel but little affection for their king. In the event of a war with
Russia, they might be very easily prevailed upon to join the lattpr
power, especially if they were promised that such an union, should
place them upon the same footing with their countrymen in Russia.
The cession of a large part of Saxony to Prussia at the Congress of
Vienna, has re-awakened the hostility y hich the Saxons formerly
felt towards that kingdom, but which after the death of Frederick
the Great, had nearly subsided. This breaking up of bonds which
intermarriages their institutions, and their history had rendered so
dear, has made the king of Prussia more unpopular in Saxony, than
any monarch of Europe. The government of the latter comitry,
has for many years, and almost' for ages been so mild and so en
lightened, that the Saxons have long felt an enthusiastic attachment
to their sovereign. The Saxon Prussians, in addition to these
evils, are now compeUed to pay much heavier taxes tham their
brethren in Saxony ; and at the present time they are no more
reconciled to this union, than when it took place. In case of a

ROYAL GUARD. 155
war with Austria, if tlxey do not join against the Prussian monarch
they will not feel much enthusiasm in his favour.
Berlin appears more like a military city than any other I have
seen in Europe. The royal guard, which consists of twenty thousand
men, is principally quartered here, the remainder being at Potsdam.
This body of troops, with the ydfUng men in the military schools
of which there are a number, presents a continued succession of
uniforms to the eye of a stranger. As in these times of peace the
officers have an abundance of leisure, every promenade, theatre,
and ball room, are gay with plumes, epaulets, swords, and lace.
Wherever you go, they appear in such numbers, that one would
almost believe himself in a garrisoned town. In society you some
times see half the gentlemen in uniform. In every other country
in Europe, if I mistake not, the officers of the army except when
on duty, are clad in a civil costume. In Paris, in London, and
every where else unless in Berlin, it would be thought a great
want of etiquette, for an officer to appear at a soiree or ball, in
the same dress- as when he drilled his troops in the morning.
This, however, here passes for la mode and in every circle where
you meet them, they are thus arrayed. The king wishing to im
press his subjects with his power, or perhaps from a passion for
plumes and swords, has ordered that they shall not lay aside their
uniforms, except on two or three occasions -during the year. The
cavalry officers always appear in society in boots and spurs. Not
withstanding this last appendage, they whirl round with the young
Berlin mademoiselles in the waltz, with a dexterity surprising to
one who is not born in a waltzing land. Their spurs, which are
very large, make a continual rattling, greatly annoying the ears of
one who is listening to the music, and often threatening the mus-
Uns and silks which surround them.
The, troops as we'll as the officers, are picked men, and are veiy
tall, well clad, and perform their evolutions with great exactness.
The desire of having tall men in the army, especially in the guard,
seems to have been universal with the monarchs. of Prussia. Fre
derick William I. entertained such a predilection for them, that
whenever he saw men'of more than the ordinary stature, he had them
kidnapped at once. When he appeared in the streets, the inhabitants
concealed themselves, for the large men were sure of being seized

156 BERLIN.
for his guard, while the smaller answered for garrison regiments.
The same feeling was manifested by Frederick the Great and by
his nephew. The prjesent king by the existing mode of organiz
ing the army, can not present one hundred thousand men of equal
length with the armies of his ancestors, stiU he can boast of having
the tallest garde du corps of Europe, of which he is not a Uttle
proud. The king and his sons appear in uniform, unless on parti.
cular occasions, and conform even to the German custom of wear
ing the cloth cap, so universal among the officers, the students^
and the rabble of the city. Its crown is not more than two inches
in height, with a red band around it, and a slight projection to
shelter the eyes from the sun. It is the most unmilitary ornament
that ever was fabricated, and would not be endured in any other
country. To us it appears surprising how the European armies can be
sustained. The paltry force of ten thousand is more than we are
wiUing to support in the time of peace ; and in the last war an
army of only thirty thousand so drained the resources of govern
ment, that they were unable to carry it on with any vigour. At
one time during that war we were compelled to give our soldiers
large bounties in lands, and pay them from twelve to eighteen
dollars per month. Even then it was found difficult, without the
aid of foreigners, to fill the ranks which disease and combat had
thinned. The custom of universal service does away all difficulty
here. Europe, with a population of less than two hundred million?,
supports armies amounting to 2,348,000 men, (vid. Hassel) or one
soldier to rather more than eighty persons ; to say nothing of the
sailors necessary to man the twenty-two hundred ships of war
belonging to these powers. To support such armies and fleets,
were the soldiers and seamen paid as ours are, it would require
some new Potosis, or every nation would sink into bankruptcy.
Here, however, none but the higher officers are well paid. A
captain in the Prussian service does not receive more than three
hundred and fifty Spanish dollars, and one in France but two
thousand francs, less than four hundred dollars. A second lieute
nant here receives not more than two hundred, in France one
thousand three hundred francs, or two hundred and forty-five
dollars. The pay of a first lieutenant here is not more than two

PRUSSIAN ARMY. 157
hundred and sixty, in France fifteen hundred francs, or nearly
two hundred arid seventy dollars. The pay of the common sol
diers here is two groschen, equal to six cents per day, with a small
allowance of bread. Once in eighteen months or two years, they
receive also a new suit of clothes. In France the pay of the sol
dier is about two cents more per diem. As the common soldiers
very rarely rise, whatever may be their merit, to the rank of a
commissioned officer, the prospects of a humble citizen or peasant
who enters the army, are less inviting than those of any class of
society, save that of the beggars and lazzaroni. Accordingly, you
find the great mass of them, as soon as their time of service expires,
returning to their homes, and embarking in some active employ
ment. This is true of the French, as well as of those nations
who ar«^-reputed to be less volatile. Though Napoleon's guard
were much attached to a military life, the ordinary conscripts, as
soon as peace permitted them to return to their firesides, left the
army and their leader with no little pleasure, cheered as they were
with the hope of passing the rest of their lives at a distance from
the tumult of camps. The lower classes of Europe are probably
the strongest advocates for peace, for they receive most of the
bullets, very little of the pay, and none of the praise. Since my
arrival here, I have had two applications from young Prussians
to take them as servants, that they might escape from their coun
try in that capacity, as they would otherwise be necessitated to
enter the army. They were told that my home was four thousand
miles from Berlin, and that if I took them they would be under
the necessity of bidding their friends adieu for many years ; to
which they replied, that they would go any where ; that if they
should once get beyond the boundary, they would never return.
If a military life, during peace, while they are living in comforta
ble quarters, is thus detested by the common people, what must
be their feelings when war adds to their present privations all the
h*rrors it brings in its train. What reasons have we for thankful
ness, that we are far removed from a powerful enemy ! What a
motive does this present to us for perpetual union !
The Prussian army diff'ers in its organization from that of
France, and from most others in Europe. The French system of
conscriptions which was very extensively introduced into Germany

158 BERLIN.
by Napoleon, still exists in many the German states. The great
extent of frontier which Prussia presented, after the accession
of territory acquired at the Congress of Vienna, made it necessary
for the government to aflopt some plan, which should greatly
increase the number of soldiers. As the resources of this country
are limited, they found it impossible largely to augment ,the
regular army. It was necessary to make as many soldiers as
possible, with the least expense tp the nation, and this was effected
by the organization of a Landwehr, or Landsturm, as it is fre
quently called. A Landsturm was formed and commanded by
the minister Albini, as early as 1799 ; and during the year 1808,
Austria formed another q{ 50,000 men. These bodies, however,
were more like militia in actual service, than the present Landwehr
of Prussia, In the latter part of the year 1815, the monarch
enacted a law, that every individual in the kingdom, should perform
military duty, with the sole exception of the clergy. In France,
and other countries of Europe, the time of service for the con
scripts, is five, six, and seven years ; while in Prussia every
individual is compelled to serve but three. As soon as the time
of service expires, they leave the army, and become a part of the
Landwehr, to which they belong until they reach the age of
thirty-two. This body differs from the National Guard in France,
as it has passed through three years service, while that of the
latter is merely a body of militia, which are drilled a few times a
year. You will see that every man becomes a soldier, a literal
fulfilment of the fable of the dragon's teeth, which war has sown
through this country, and from which almost as great a harvest of
soldiers has sprung, as of wheat from its sandy soil.
The Landwehr are compelled to be in service during one month
in the year. The rest of it they devote to their individual avoca
tions. The number of this body at the present time, is more than
three hundred thousand men, which added to the regular army of
one hundred and seventy thousand, furnishes the king vntl^ a
force of about half a million of soldiers, which can be brought into
the field in case of necessity. As the time of service is but three
years, it can not be supposed that they become as perfect in the
most difficult evolutions, as if if were of the same duration as in
France ; stiU it is sufficient to enable them before the first campaign

PRUSSIAN ARMY. 159
is half ended, to recover all their former precision of discipline,
and to offer a most powerful obstacle to the progress of an invading
army. The Prussian soldiers are much larger men than those of the
French and Italian armies, and, cceteris paribus, present a much
finer appearance. They perform their evolutions with the greatest
exactness, and, if inferior in this respect to the French, it requires
better military eyes than mine to discover it. The|Prussians,.most
of whom have for a long period seen no other troops, not only
maintain that their army is invincible, but that no one in Europe
can compare with it. One of the officers, with whom I was lately
conversing, declared, that they could easily march, in four days,
from the Rhine provinces to Paris. This opinion of Prussian
superiority is based upon the success which crowned their struggle
during the wars of 1813 and 14. They do not, however, seem to
be conscious, that the flower of Napoleon's army was destroyed
by the snows of Russia ; that the few who recrossed the Niemen,
were disheartened by suffering ; that the majority of the soldiers
with whom they eombatted, were young troops who had never
seen service, a large proportion having been anticipated conscripts,
of sixteen or seventeen years of age ; and that they fought from
the desire of breaking chains which had long galled them, and
under the inspiring hope of a constitutional government, as the
reward of their efforts. They occasionally gained - a victory
during the war, but it was usually by superiority of numbers.
Napoleon, with his army of young men and boys, fought neariy
twice the number of allied troops at Leipzig, for four days, and
with no greater loss of killed and wounded than the enemy. Were
a new war to arise between France and Prussia, it is very difficult
to decide which army, on equal terms, would gain the victory.
The French move with much greater celerity; the Prussians have
the most physical force. The former, in nfodern warfare, is of
much greater utility than the latter, in every case, except in s
charge of the bayonet. The Prussian cavalry are much better
mounted, but the French horses move with more rapidity. The-
discipline in each army is very perfect, and the hatred of the French
to the Prussians, can only be equalled by that of the latter to the
former. The government of each country is unpopular, perhaps--

160 BERLIN.
equally so. The French army, if officered by Napoleon's marshals,
and, above all, with himself for a leader, would, I have no doubt,
whip the Prussians to their heart's content ; but, if they were to
be led by the duke d' Angouleme, the present commander-in-chief,
I would not venture much in their favour. The history of France
presents so much that is brilliant, victory has so oftgn perched
upon her standards, and nations have so frequently submitted to
her will, that the meanest soldier feels proud of the nation of his
birth, and will shed his blood pour la gloire de la France. There
is nothing in the history of Prussia, before the time of Frederick'
to awaken martial enthusiasm. During his reign, and during the
years 1813 and 1814, there was much in their history to give to
this people a national character. They now apparently feel it, at
least if one can judge from their boasting. During those periods,
causes existed to rouse them to effort, which will probably never
arise again. Two such monarchs as Frederick do not govern the
same country in a millenium ; while a nation that has fought for
liberty, and has found, after victory has crowned its efforts, that
the only reward is tyranny and taxation, will not feel willing, in a
subsequent struggle, to sacrifice their all for a monarch, who they
say is destitute of gratitude and honesty. This want of faith, as
they term it, on the part of their sovereign, has so diminished the
attachment they once felt for him, that the reflecting men who are
attached to the army, do not hesitate to say, that in their next
struggle with Russia or France, no excitement will be felt by the
nation at large, whatever may be the feeling of the soldiers.
Could they be led by a second Frederick, they would become the
first soldiers in Europe, and an Austrian, French, and Russian
coalition could not crush them. Buonaparte disliked the Prussians,
because they armed against him in 1806 ; and after the battle of
Jena, when most of this kingdom fell into his hands, he punished
them with great severity. The retaliation of the Prussians, when
they entered France in 1814 and 15, was so severe, that they are
not only hated and detested by the French army, but also by the
nation, who now call them les plus chicns. The French, who
have forgotten the causes which led to this cruel treatment, look
forward to another war with great pleasure, and would hail the
report of the first cannon as the signal of returning vengeance.

PRUSSIAN ARMY. 161
The Prussian officers with whom I have conversed, seem equally
desirous of it, feeling that the peace of Paris arrived too soon to
enable them to give the French their merited chastisement. How
such a war would end, would depend very much on the fact,
whether it were popular or not among the Prussians. When
ever it arrives, it will undoubtedly be carried on with a ferocity,
to which few modern wars can find a parallel. Should it continue
a number of campaigns, France must reap the greatest advantage,
for her population is much greater, and her resources are more
abundant than those of any country in Europe, west of Poland,
while Prussia is proverbial for its poverty.

23

163

LETTER X.

Berlin, 1826.

Perhaps no country in Europe, west of Poland, is so little'
distinguished for its eloquence as Germany, This results from a
variety of causes, which, fortunately, do not exist in England, in
France, or in the United States. Although many of these causes
are to be found in Italy, still so rich are her landscapes, so
glorious are her sun and sky, her stars and atmosphere, and so
enlivening is her climate, that in this respect, as well as in most
others, the Italians are the antipodes of the Germans. This want of
eloquence is in some measure owing to a coldness of manner,
which it would be doing them injustice to call a want of feeling ;
but which to say the least, is a deficiency in an apparent susceptibility
to the influence of external objects. The Germans are a people
of intense feeling ; inferior in this respect to no other nation of
Europe. But their passion is too profound to be easily agitated
by external objects. A high excitement is necessary to affect
their hearts, so that the countenance shall become an index of
their feelings. This apparent want of susceptibility to all the
objects of sense, except music, is visible every where. The cler
gyman, the soldier, the man of fashion, the player, and the
mademoiselle ; in their manner, motions, mode of utterance and
conversation, all remind you that you have passed the Rhine, and
have left behind you the land of naiveti. The countenance par
takes also of this want of animation. AVhile the face of a Parisian
will glow at the description of a new fasliion or opera, or of the
new carriage of the king, that of a German would be scarcely as
animated, were he to hear of the revolution of a nation, unless he
held a large amount in the public funds. Although the remark
may be generally true, that where there is feeling or intellect, it will
be visible in the countenance, it certainly is not applicable to the
Germans. Their faces are the least expressive of any nation in

GERMAN ELOQUENCE. 163
Europe, and even when deeply interested in conversation, their
countenances are not indices of their minds or their hearts. A
French savant derives many of his thoughts through the medium
of external objects. Every thing which passes before him is
observed; a German lives, more in ages which have passed away,
or in countries far rempved by place and character from his own.
The former passes a part of his time in society, at the theatre, in
the public promenades ; the latter lives in his closet, in ruminating
upon distant ages, or upon the imaginary world which he has
created. One, who passes every twelve hours out of twenty-four,
in tracing ancient and modern languages to their sources, or iii
studying every thing connected with the antiquities, mythology,
philosophy, &c. of other nations, will be unfitted to derive much
enjoyment from the present, or to add much to the general charms
of society. Accordingly, you rarely find the German literati ex
celling in conversation. In this respect, both themselves and the
citizens at large, are inferior to us, and much so to the French.
Many of the Parisian bourgeois will converse eloquently on the
knot or colour of a cravat, will describe in a most graphic manner
a ladies dress, or a promenade in the Tuileries or Luxembourg ;
and while they may not convey one interesting thought, will throw
around the description an animation and a sprightliness, that virill
make you listen with pleasure and with admiration of their col
loquial powers. Their countenences in the mean time will display
every degree of light and shade, in proportion to the pleasure or
disgust felt in witnessing the objects they describe. To make
the picture more distinct, their hands and arms are thrown into a
great variety of gestures, of grace, and elegance ; all of which are
like fine accentuation in the mouth of the orator.
A German when describing the same subjects will often become
embarrassed, will place his body in an awkward position, and most
of the time will keep his eyes on the floor. Before he has finished
his description, he will probably make several long pauses in his
conversation, and apparently hesitate whether to stop or to proceed.
The Parisian is so accustomed to conversation from his childhood,
that he does it with the same ease and adroitness as a soldier
performs his drill, and so early does he discover that grace is
indispensable to his reputation, and indeed to his being endured

164 BERLIN.
in society, that it soon becomes a part of his being, and he rarely,
if ever, suflifers from embarrassment. In truth, awkwardness is
almost unknown in France. Even the postillion salutes the
peasants and village girls (who stop their labour in the fields or
put their heads out of the window, as soon as the crack of his whip
announces his approach,) with a touch of his hat d la mode Paris-
sienne, while in the class above him, there is an interchange of as
many bows, civilities, and curtesies, as among the highest classes
of society in other countries. In France every one is perfectly
acquainted with etiquette. In whatever situation a Frenchman is
placed, he feels free from embarrassment, and has the full command
of all his powers. This perfect self-possession, is one of the
principal reasons why they excel all other nations in conversation,
and why, every one of them amuses if he does not interest.
In Germany la mode is not so well understood as in most other
countries, indeed there is less of it in fact. The thirty-two courts
which exist here, make its laws for themselves. Here is no great
capital to form a central point, towards which every eye can turn ;
no national court which, in all cases of etiquette, can be a standard
of appeal. Every one adopts a manner in his dress, walk, and
address, which is purely his own, and frequently approaches the
extreme of awkwardness. This remark does not solely apply to
the inhabitants of the smaller states. It is equally applicable to
the Prussians at large, and to a considerable extent to the higher
classes of society. A single promenade in the Tliiergarten, or
five minutes passed at one of the great balls, even at those which
the king and royal family frequent, will convince any one who has
ever seen Paris, of the limited influence of la mode in this city.
In the middle classes it is still more visible. In a single walk you
will see coats of a dozen different fashions, many of which appear
to have been made for persons of a different stature from the
wearer ; bonnets of all the shapes that have been devised by mil
liners since the peace of Paris ; and arms and legs, hanging and
moving in every manner but that which is graceful. Every one
here knows that la mode exists, but as it is invisible, he is not cer
tain that he understands what it is ; and when with a stranger, he
naturally fears that he may offend its rules unconsciously. This
prevents his having that perfect self-command which is necessary

GERMAN ELOQUENCE. 165
to success in conversation, and causes a slight restraint upon every
action and display of feeling. He is accordingly exceedingly
complaisant, and would much prefer being the listener, to taking
an active part in conversation. The Germans in consequence
converse with much less facility than their western neighbours,
and although their minds are more cultivated, they are far less
amusing. Conversation in France is made a study, a prominent
part of education ; here it is allowed to take care of itself, and
rarely does it become an accomplishment.*
Another powerful obstacle to the cultivation of eloquence is the
restriction imposed upon the press. Where the press is free, con
versation on all those subjects which are interesting to man, as a
political being, will be unrestrained. In France, in England, and
in our own country, the great question — In what does national hap
piness consist ? — appears constantly before the public eye, in all its
thousand ramifications, through the medium of the journals, ga
zettes, and pamphlets. As these are daily seen and read, they
afford topics of discussion to every circle. The public mind is
thus kept ever awake, and the spirit of a nation otherwise dormant
becomes habitually active. New arguments and new thoughts are
daily elicited and presented. These- are more or less Within the
reach of every individual, and he becomes of course far more an
argumentative being, than if he had been born in a land of politi
cal despotism. In Germany, on the other hand, every subject
connected with the political rights of man, is almost excluded from
the press. On these topics no one writes, save now and then to
prove that the actual state of things is the best which could pos
sibly exist. Even this is rarely done, lest a proposition so absurd,
when coming into collision with the feelings of every individual,
should rouse him to reflection. Not being allowed to express his
* These remarks are made in reference to the charaifters of the two nations.
There are of course many exceptions. You find occasionally, even among
the greatest scholars of Germany, very uncommon colloquial powers, but it
is after the restraints of the stranger have ceased, and you are received on
the footing of an acquaintance. They then become the most interesting men
you ever meet with, and their want of a knowledge of etiquette, is forgotten
or unobserved. I know of no colloquial eloquence superior to that which I
have seen in some few of the literati of this country.

166 BERLIN.
thoughts upon these subjects in print, he soon feels that it would
be equally dangerous in conversation, as he is never sure that he
is safe, unless when conversing with an intimate friend. He does
it then in a whisper, and with feelings half suppressed. What he
says excites his own mind and that of his companion only to mo
mentary thought, and, as he sees no ho se of a change for the bet
ter, he soon relaxes into his former apathy on these subjects. Lite
rature and music create. interest in a portion of the nation ; but as
discussions of this nature are usually confined to matters of taste,
they rarely give birth to sufficient intensity of feeling, to impart
eloquence to conversation.
When riational happiness, or in other words the happiness of
every individual of the nation, can not with safety be made the
topic of conversation, the mind will enter with very little ardour
into other important subjects, unless those of a religious nature.
Conscious as every Prussian is, that the almost omniscient eye of
the government, through the medium of its system of espionage
is fixed upon him, and that a single word expressed with boldness,
may furnish an occasion for transferring him to Koepnic or Span-
dau ; he becomes of course, in every circle, suspicious of those
around him, sustains a negative character in his conversation, ad
vances those indefinite opinions which are harmless, and if he does
not commend, he takes very good care never to censure the pro
ceedings of government. Theology, a subject in itself so noble,
and so worthy of discussion, is entirely banished from societj^
Such discussions are exclusively confined to the tlJeological pro
fessors and students of the university, or to small circles, and then
it is usually soon succeeded by others. This subject, therefore,
which in our country of sects is so constantly placed before the
public eye, does very little towards elevating the intellectual cha
racter of the Germans. Thus fettered, the Prussians find a solace
in amusement for the injuries which they feel, and in .this vegeta
tive state of feeling all eloquence expires.
The bar, which in most countries is the great nursery of elo
quence, has no influence here. All the courts, but those of one
class, are held in secret, and no one knows what passes there,
until the judges see fit to make known their decisions. The class
referred to exists only in the Rhine provinces, from the courts of

GERMAN ELOQUENCE. I6t
which there is an appeal here, and this is soon to be changed, lest
the people should be induced to desire a greater publicity to the
proceedings of government. The lawyers write their arguments,
which they read to the judges, as there is neither audience nor
jury. So long has this custom existed, that in the Court of Cas
sation, the court of appeal for the Rhine provinces, where specta
tors are admitted, they read them also. Their' arguments are of
course mere deductions from premises, filled with technical lan
guage, and no more interesting to a common audience than so
much Arabic. Their manner of reading, if an opinion can be
formed from hearing them in one of the western courts which I
attended, is as good a soporific as their arguments.
The only schools for eloquence which remain,' are the pulpit and
the stage. It is hardly just to form an opinion of the eloquence -of
the clergy from those of a single city ; for until some time after
my arrival here, I did not understand the language well enough to
follow them in their discourses. I have heard a number of the
most eloquent preachers of Berlin, but cannot admit that, in thought
or manner, they are superior to the ablest preachers of our coun
try, or to many whom I have heard in France and Italy. They
are called very eloquent by the people of BerUn, but they have
not that glpw of feeling and that animation of gesture which you
find in those who truly deserve the epithet. They speak, at times,
with great facility ; but they have no fire : there is nothing to
remind you of the " blaze of genius and the burst of thought" which
are occasionally found on the floor of our congress and in our pul
pits. The stage is very respectable, and affords sufficient evidence
that the Germans, if placed under the influence of the proper moral
causes, might, in some instances, at least, become powerfully elo
quent. The theatres are sufficiently thronged to awaken all the
powers of the actors ; and to this, as well as to the fact that their
salaries depend upon their display of this talent, may be attributed
the superiority of the theatrical, to other nurseries of eloquence.
From these remarks, you will see, at once, how great are the
advantages which the young men of our country enjoy over the
Germans, in acquiring an easy and interesting manner of convey
ing their thoughts, both in conversation and in public speaking.
Here there is no congress, no state legislatures, no political clubs.

168

BERI.N.

no debating societies, no public courts ; in one word, there is not s
single place, where a German may address his fellow men, unless
he is a clergyman or a player. To the youth of this country, all
hopes of acquiring reputation, and of influencing the feelings of their
countrymen, except through the medium of the press, are destroyed.
Those who still wish, under all these discouragements, to climb
"the steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar," resort to the
field of literature or the army ; while the greater portion are con
tented with a reputation in the small circuit of their profession, and
out of them they are almost unknown.
That the Germans are capable of becoming eloquent, no one
can doubt who beheld the national ardour during the last war. The
addresses then delivered are represented as having been fine speci
mens of glowing feeling ; for in such a cause the governments
allowed them to speak with freedom. As they were principally
extempore effusions, they have passed away with the events to which
they gave, rise, and from which they rose. A few of the printed
ones vphich I have seen, certainly exhibit a great deal of fire ; and
if we may judge from the effects, were highly eloquent. In their
criticisms in the various departments of literature and the fine arts,
they are inferior to no nation. Johnson's remarks on Shakspeare
and the other poets of our language, are tame in comparison with
the enthusiasm and glow of Schlegel's mind, when speaking of that
great dramatist and of Calderon. In poetic eloquence, they certainly
hold a very exalted station, and they need not shrink from a com
parison with any nation but the English ; and not with them,
if Milton and Shakspeare are excepted. Italy, the very land of
the fine arts, the country of taste and beauty, has never produced
a writer on the antique to compare with Winckelman ; and few
minds, save a small number of their sculptors and painters, ever
felt, in all its force, the power and beauty of ancient sculpture,
until they read the elegant analysis and eloquent descriptions of
this author.
I find that Shakspeare is more read here, if possible, than in the
United Slates, and much more admired.* Voss, the celebrated
* Wieland and Eschenberg made the first translations of Shakspeare. The
former gave only a German version of Midsummer's Night Dreams, and the

GERMAN TRANSLATIONS. 169
translator of Homer, many years since gave the plays of the great
dramatic poet to his countrymen in a German translation ; and
since that time, many other translations have appeared. There
are now five or six of these German Shakspeares, most of which
are superior to those of any other foreign tongue. This language
is admirably adapted to present the thoughts of foreign poets in a
dress little, if any, inferior to the original. It is richer in the
number of its words than the Greek, and its facilities of combina
tion are also greater than those of any language of Europe. The
great number of particles, by means of which they make new verbs
and substantives, as well as the wonderful ease with which two,
aud even three words and particles are united into one, (for two
German words unite very much like two drops of water.) have
given a richness to this language which excites the surprise even of
those who are familiar with that of Attica. There are very few
ideas or feelings which cannot be expressed by a single word, by
means of. these combinations. The flexibility of the language
is little, if any, inferior to its copiousness. With such facilities,
you can easily conceive that a German, who thoroughly under
stands a foreign language, if he enters into the feelings of the poet,
the people, and the age in which he flourished, which his exe
getical education and manner of investigating aU literary subjects
enable him to do, is admirably fitted to become a translator of the
poetry of other nations. Accordingly, there are few departments of
foreign Uterature, there are few celebrated poems in other lan
guages, which are not within the reach of every German. The
songs of Hafiz and of the other poets of Persia, the poetry of Ara
bia, of Palestine, and of ancient and modern Europe, all appear in
the language of this country, and often with a beauty but little infe
rior to that of the original.
Of all the translators of Shakespeare, Augustus Wilhelm Schlegel
has acquired the greatest reputation. His version presents, per
haps the strongest proof of the richness and flexibiUty of this lan
guage. Of this work the Germans boast with a national pride,
latter translated but a small number of his plays. Since their appearance
Krause, Falk, Kessler, Dippold, Meyer, and others, have each translated parts
or all of them. 23

170 BERt.IN<
rarely eslcited, unless when speaking of their victories, during the
"Holy War," or the "war of Freedom," as they call that of 1813 and
1814. I know of no translation in any other language to compare
with it, and when reading it you almost forget that you are not
perusing the original. So literal is this work, and so perfectly are
the beauties Of the original retained, that Shakspeare might be
almost willing to acknowledge it as his own. Wherever antique
words occur in the original, they are to be met with in the transla
tion so far as this language will admit of it. It thus exhibits to
the German reader, that character of age, which throws such a
charm over his pages. The critique of Schlegel on Shakspeare
is filled with that enthusiasm which no one could feel, who was
not alive to all the beauty and sublimity of the great dramatist.
The northern Germans resemble us much more than any other
nation on the continent. Like us they are Protestants, and they
show in their conversation that depth of feeling, which naturally
arises from a reUgion addressed equally to the intellect and the
heart, A rehgion which is grounded on argument, and not on
mere feeling, one where the heart is impressed through the me
dium of the understanding, though it will not excite as intense
momentary dread, will assume a more permanent reality, and be
more influential, than one which appears to the eye, through the
revelations which painting presents of futurity. Like us, they are
a people who are exposed to all the severities of winter, and during
the long months of clouds and rain, mist and snow, they seek for
enjoyment by their fire-sides, and not in basking in the sun, as do
the southern nations of Europe. Like us they have not only a
home, but a word also to convey this idea which in some of the
dictionaries of southern Europe you search for in vain. Their im
pressions are not like those of the nations upon the Mediterranean
derived from external objects, but from reflection, and they are
capable of feeling in the fullest manner all that power of passion,
which is seen on every page of the English dramatist. Accord
ingly you find their admiration of Shakspeare almost boundless. He
is a more frequent topic of conversation than any foreign writer,
and, since my residence here, I have conversed more on this sub
ject, than during my whole life in America. Lectures on his plays
are given in almost every university, and in not a small number of

ADMIRATION OF SHAKSPEARE. 171
the cities, they are publicly read by lecturers to the citizens, where
his beauties are unfolded and his obsolete illusions explained, with
all the acuteness of German criticism. His tragedies and come
dies are more frequently played than those of any foreign writer
or than any of their own, with the exception of those of Schiller ;
whose plays do not draw as full houses as those of the bard of Avon.
They universally admit that his mind was of a higher order
than any other creative poet, not even excepting Goethe, whom
they almost idolize. It gives me not a little pleasure to see this
universal admiration of Shakspeare, whose writings I have found
so little appreciated elsewhere on the continent. I have never seen
a Parisian* who would acknowledge that his was a master spirit ;
not one who thought his genius comparable to that of Racine,
Corneille, or Voltaire. In Italy he is almost unknown, and one
living south of the Alps, laughs at the idea of comparing Hamlet
or Macbeth, with the Philip or Saul of Alfieri. Probably no wri
ter, except those of Greece and Rome, has had a greater influence
over the literature of a foreign country, than Shakspeare over that
of Germany. Klopstock, Goethe, Wieland, Lessing, Schiller and
Herder, all acknowledge his influence in forming their taste, and
unite in an almost boundless admiration for his genius. Goethe
in his Wilhelm Meister, and Schlegel in his history of Dramatic
Literature, have spoken of him with that admiration which all
great minds must feel, when perusing his wonderful tragedies.!
During the continental struggle, English literature rarely found
its way to the continent. Since the peace of 1814, it is introduced
by every arrival at Hamburg from London, and most works of merit
soon appear in the original, or in the translations. I have found
some of the Germans as warm admirers of English literature as
their fathers were fifty years since, of that of France ; preferring it
even to their own. Our language is now spoken to some extent
* The French should not be censured for the low estimate they form of
Shakspeare, With the exception of several of his plays, altered by Jean
Frangois Dugis, some forty years since, their translations of him are detestable.
In one of the versions of "Macbe J ; Macbeth ! beware^Macduff," is translated
" Monsieur Macbeth ! prenez garde de Monsieur Macduff."
+ Before the translation of Shakspeare's plays appeared, there was not a sin
gle tragedy in this language, which the Germans of the present day regard
as classical.

172 BERLIN..
in every part of Qermany, and some of the poets occassionally
write in. English, though their works are evidently composed with
not a little restraint. Its grammatical construction is so much
more simple than that of every other in Europe, that to translate our
prose, is rather an amusement, than a labour to a German. The
poetry is more difficult, but its construction so nearly resembles
that of his own language, that he soon reads it wi'' ease. There
is one obstacle, however, of which they very much complain, viz.
our pronunciation. This, to them, is a perfect ch^os, and they
often despair of arriving at moderate correctness. That the words
cough, enough, and though, should not rhyme ; and that blow
though and go, that enough and bluf should, to them is incompre
hensible. This, however, is not their greatest difficulty. They
find the^A of our language, a worse Shibboleth, than the ^' to the
Ephraimites ; and were the Germans compelled to pronounce it'
in passing a second Jordan, or meet a similar fate, there are, pro
bably not half a dozen who would ever reach the opposite bank.
I have seen many of them who rarely made a grammatical mistake
in talking English, but never met with but one who could sa^-,
thirty three thousand things. With all their efforts they can only
bring forth dirty dree dousand dings. In making the attempt
they screw and twist their faces into as many shapes as a Mounte
bank, reminding one of Hogarth's singing congregation.
The works of Scott are as much read here as with us. They ap
pear both in the original and in translations, often in several of the
latter. Cooper's novels, and Irving's Tales, are a constant topic of
conversation. As they are the only American works in these
branches of literature which are known in this country, the novelty
of the scenes which they paint, together with their real merit, has
given them a popularity, not much surpassed by that of the great
Scotch Novelist. French works are more frequentiy reprint
ed in the original, than in a German dress, as almost every edu
cated man reads that language, which the conquests of Napoleon
and the gallantry of his officers, have made the lingua communis
of Europe. The clief d'ouvres of the great ItaUan p'>ets, are now
re-printing at Leipzig, as well as the^orks of Byron, Shakspeare,
Moore, &c. in the languages in which they Avere written. In truth
many of the classic authors of most of the countries of Europe, as

ENGLISH LITERATURE. 173
well as of many of those of Asia, appear from time to time, from
the German press, in their proper languages and characters. When
will the time arrive, that works of even one foreign classical writer
can be printed in our country in the native language of the author,
without danger of their being consigned to the grocer to envelope
his tea and sugar?

174

LETTER XI.

Berlin, 1826-

The university of Berlin, until within a few years, was merely
a medical school. In 1810, the three faculties of theology, law,
and philosophy, were added to- it, and the university was thus
formed. It takes the lead, this year, of all the German universities,
in the number of students, and also in the number of lectures that
are delivered. It is now patronised more than any other in
Germany, not excepting that of Vienna ; as the Austrian govern
ment, of late years, has been very unwilling to allow that freedom
of literary discussion, which is indispensable to the prosperity of
an university. That government, does not allow but one course of
statistics, viz. of Austria, to be given in that institution, from the
fear that even through this medium, some suspicions might enter
the minds of the youth, that other countries, as they are more
prosperous, may be also better governed. A law has recently
been enacted, dated Vienna, January 26, 1826, (vide Berlinische
Nachrichten, of February 2d, the same year,) that in the Austrian
schools of instruction, no foreigner, who has passed the age of ten
years, shall be received; and that cases of admission, under this
age, shall not frequently occur. This law, illiberal as it is, is
worthy of the source whence it proceeded, and must excite surprise
even at Rome, where, as at all the other universities of Italj-, foreign
ers are received on the same footing as the natives. It, doubtless,
results from the fears which Metternich entertains, that political
light will be introduced from abroad, to dazzle the youth so long
accustomed only to Austrian darkness. It will, for ever, prevent the
institution of Vienna, from rising numerically to the elevation it
would otherwise attain, as from one-fourth to one-half of the
students in every university of Germany, with this exception, are
not natives of the kingdom, or grand duchy, in which it is situated.

UNIVERSITY. 175
The remarks made in my description of the university of Got
tingen, are most of them applicable to that of Berlin. Like that,
it is divided into four departments. In theology, there are seven
professors and four teachers, who deliver twenty-eight courses of
lectures. In the faculty of law, there are nine professors and five
teachers, who deliver thirty-two courses of lectures. In the
medical department, there are twenty-one professors and seven
teachers, who deliver sixty-nine courses of lectures on every
branch of surgery, anatomy, inateria medica, physiology, medical
practice, &c. In philosophy, there are thirty-five professors and
fourteen teachers, who deliver ninety-three courses of lectures on
almost every subject, included from the arts of singing and riding,
to mathematics and Chaldaic. You will thus see that there are
between two and three hundred courses of lectures delivered' in
this university. Each course here occupies four and a half months.
In most of the courses, lectures are delivered four, five, and six
times in a week ; in a few of them, once and twice. You will
perceive, by looking at the Index Lectionum,* that there are few
subjects which hold a prominent place in moral, Uterary, or pro
fessional discussion, that are not here treated in an elaborate manner.
The great superiority of German universities to those of our
country, and in truth, to all others, except that of Paris, results
from the admirable subdivision of labour which exists there. This
is as important in mental as in physical effort, and will always
ensure equal success. One man, to use a hackneyed illustration,
can not make more than five or six buttons daily, but ten men can
make a thousand, by dividing and thus simplifying their labour.
A professor who, like most of ours, is compelled to instruct in
several languages, and write lectures upon the literature of as
many nations, will never advance very far in either, and his
opinions must be a mere compilation of those who have preceded
him in the same departments. But, when an individual devotes
most of his life to a single language, or, as the German professors
often do, to two or three of the most distinguished works of its
literature, he must, with moderate powers, arrive at a degree of
excellence, which men of genius can not attain, where they waste
their strength on the literature of three or four countries. It is an
* Vid Appendix.

170 BERLIN.
efl"ect of this subdivision of mental effort, that we find such worki
as those of Heyne, "V^olf, and Hermann, in classical learning ; and
to the want of it that, until within a few years, we have, had no
writer in oriental literature, or in that of Athens and Rome, who
would sustain a moderate reputation in this country. When I left
the United States, there were in Cambridge but four professors to
instruct in the literature and languages of all nations, ancient and
modern, and in Yale there was but one. Such a field is too wide
for any one ihind to grasp it. You may advance some distance on
many beaten tracks, but you will never make any discoveries,
unless you confine yourself to one or two.
You must not understand me as saying, that a professor of
Hebrew should not be so familiar with Arabic, Syriac, Latin,
and Greek, and with the modern languages, as to read them with
facility. This is indispensable, if he will acquire an intimate
knowledge of the Hebrew, or avail himself of the discoveries of
others, and this the German professors do universally. It is rare
to find one who cannot translate from six to seventeen languages,
and they can often speak three or four ; but they devote most of
their strength to one, or even to a few works of a single
language. By this division of labour, they have introduced in
these institutions a more thorough course of exegetical instruction
than has ever existed elsewhere. With us, if a student can give
a grammatical translation of a few of the authors of classical
literature, he is pronounced a fine Greek and Latin scholar, and he
leaves the university in the blaze of a Salutatory or Valedictory.
Exegesis, so far as I am acquainted with our literary institutions,
and I have friends connected Vith many of them, has scarcely
become a part of classical instruction. Here they learn the con
struction of the ancient languages much more minutely than with
us ; so much so, that all the rules and exceptions of the syntax
must be understood by the student. When he is familiar with
these, he is supposed to have acquired such a knowledge of the
language, as imperfectly to qualify him for commencing the study
of its authors. Much more remains to be done before he can
pursue an exegetical course to advantage. He must become tlio-
roughly acquainted with the geography, the antiquities, the physical
character of the country whose literature he is perusing, before he

UNIVERSITY. 177
enters upon this mode of studying. In pursuing it as an exeget,
he must study, most intimately, the character of the people, as
moral, intellectual, and physical beings; be able to trace every
custom and every image to its source ; become acquainted with
their mythology and philosophy.; ascertain whether their opinions
on these subjects were introduced by their intercourse with surround
ing nations, or had their origin in their own peculiar character ;
make himself intimately acquainted with their history, laws, state
of society, social intercourse, mode of life, their , peculiar rites
and ceremonies ; examine the circumstances under which the
author wrote his work, and of the nation at the time it was written ;
in one word, discover every thing connected with them as moral,
intellectual, political, religious, social, and physical beings ; so that
he may, in the fullest manner, overcome all those difficulties which
distance, time, and place, have thrown in the way of the reader;
It is from the pursuit of this course, that so many of these professors
appear, in their studies and lecture-rooms, to live more in past
ages than in the present century, and to be more familiar with the
manners and customs of antiquity than with those of Germany. It
is thus that they learn to feel the true spirit of David, of Isaiah,
./Eschylus, Euripides, Dante, or Calderon, with almost the same
force as the contemporaries of those poets. Such a professor
becomes, in fact, a lamp to guide the student in the darkness of
antiquity. It is not in ancient languages only, that they pursue this course
of exegetical instruction. The remarks just made Efbove, are as
applicable to their lectures on modern literature, as to that of
Greece and Rome. In fact, no other course of study is con
sidered of any avail, and any other mode of lecturing would be
the means of rendering every seat of the lecture-room vacant.
This exegetical mode of study has been pursued with far more
ardour, during the last seventy years, than before. Michaelis,. in
oriental literature ; Heyne and Ernesti, in the ancient languages,
created an interest in exegesis, previously unknown in this
country. They have been succeeded by hundreds, perhaps it
should be said by thousands, who have applied this mode of
studying to the Uterature of almost every language, from China to
the ultima Thule. The number of distinguished exegets, is much
24

178 BERLIN^
greater now than at any previous period. This remark is particularly
applicable to the Orientalists and Grecians of this country ; for
these are the names which they receive when they arrive ati
eminence, being called no longer Germans.
The same subdivision of labour exists in almost every other
department of instruction, as most of the universities possess
cabinets and apparatus sufficiently extensive, to illustrate every
branch of science. Though foreign languages and literature are
pursued here with an interest unknown since the reformation, an
equal ardour is manifested in the study of medicine, and in many of
the branches of physical science. In consequence of this the German
students acquire a thorough education in all the mo^t important
branches of knowledge. The distance between them and our
own students is of course very great. The former, when they
enter the universities are much better acquainted with the classical
literature, than ours when they are graduated, and many of them
are superior to many of our professors. This must continue to
be the fact, so long as our literary professors are compelled to
trace the immense field of classic or modern literature, and it may
be added, so long as our universities continue on their present
footing. With us> as well as in Germany, the professors are chosen for
life, but here the resemblance ceases. In the United- States we
give them a sufficient salary, to enable them to live pleasantly ;
and when once chosen, they reaUze that their fortune is made, that
they have reached the ultimatum of ascent. Here they receive
only half a subsistence for themselves and families ; and whether
they acquire the other half or not, depends entirely upon their
own efforts. They perfectly understand, that nothing but a repu
tation for talents and attainments will fill their-lecture rooms, and
that to acquire this fame, the most indefatigable application and
industry are necessary. Every department has its four or six
professors and teachers, who deUver lectures on subjects so nearly
similar, that a constant rivalry is produced. For example, to a
student pursuing Greek literature, it is of very little importance
whether he reads Sophocles or Euripedes, but it is very necessary
that the professor whose lectures, he attends should be thoroughly
acquainted with the author he attempts to explain. These gentle-

UNIVERSITY. 179
men perfectly understand, as well as the stage and steamboat
proprietors of our country, that if they are negligent, they will be
deserted. This is not a Uttle increased by the division into
ordinary and extraordinary professors and teachers. The latter
class who are paid nothing by the government, but are only per
mitted to deliver lectures, receive a Frederick d'or from each
of the pupils, and are almost universally stimulated by necessity.
Besides this they feel all the ardour of youth, and the consequent
longing for reputation. To acquire subsistence and fame, they
make unwearied exertions. Before them they see the extraordinary
professors, whose title in the eyes of the students, gives them
a prior claim-; and to overtake them in the race they strain
every nerve. The extraordinary professors see below them a
number of young men, putting forth all their energy, while above
them they behold the ordinary professors who have reached the
highest point of ascent. This class are placed under the influence
of two most powerful stimulants, the fear of being overtaken by
the teachers, and the desire of surpassing the ordinary professors.
The ordinary professors see below them two classes, at different
distances, rapidly rising towards them, often almost treading upon
their heels, and not unfrequently taking the lead in the number of
their auditors, as well as in reputation. Under such a stimulus,
they very rarely fall asleep, or relax their efforts, until age or
debility arrives.
This continued strife has the happiest effect on the literature of
this country, and in this respect, the German universities tire better
organised than any others in Europe. It is folly to suppose, that
the mere influence of principle will induce most professors who do
not feel great enthusiasm in their departments, to make the neces
sary efforts to arrive at excellence. They will often find bad
weather in winter, and real or imaginary debility the rest of the
year, an excuse for relaxL '^n or indolence.
American professors are usually stationary from forty-five to
fifty years of age, until their decease; or, to indulge the utmost
charity, they advance very little after that period ; here, they
are continually acquiring fame by new attainments, and they arc
rarely unoccupied, even at seventy.
In the United States, the professors usually write but one course
of lectures, which is delivered from year to year^ until it loses with

180 BERLIN.
even themselves half its interest, from its monotony; here, there
are very few who do not deliver two, three, and even four
courses on different branches of their profession at the same time,
which occupy them as many hours during three, four, and even five
days of the week. With us, a professor is usually chosen at a
very early period of life, and long before his attainments have
qualified him for his station, with the hope that his talents and
industry will justify the appointment. If, as is sometimes the
case, they are chosen at a more advanced age, they are selected
from one of the professions in which they have been so long
occupied, that they have had but little time to devote to any
thing but the practical part of it. This is particularly true of
theology and medicine, and is almost equally so in the department
of law. Though they make very good clergymen, lawyers, and
physicians, very few of them, however distinguished are their
talents, make able professors. A man designed for such a station,
like an officer in the army, should be educated for his profession,
and should go through all the gradations of ascent, until he
arrives at the highest chair of instruction. It is almost as unsafe to
choose a professor of theology, of law, or of medicine, because the
person chosen was a good preacher, lawyer, or physician, as it
would be to elevate a common soldier to the rank of general,
because he performed his drill with great precision. The one
requires as long a course of study and of diligent application as
the other. Happily for Germany, a very different course is
pursued here. Before an individual can reach the humble station
of teacher, he mu^t exhibit fine talents, and an amount of learning
which few of our professors possess. In this station he remains a
long time, and years must roll away, unless his attainments are
very uncommon, before he is raised to the extraordinary chair.
Previous to this elevation, he passes six, eight, ten, and sometimes
fifteen years, in the most diligent resei^lch, relying entirely upon
his own efforts for success.
When a professor at length takes the first ascending step, he is
not considered qualified to receive the compensation or title of an
ordinary professor. Here he remains many years dependant upon
the three or four hundred dollars that he receives from govern
ment, and on the fees of his lectures for subsistence, until he

UNIVERSITY. 181
shows the same decided superiority over his brethren of the same
class, that he did when, as a teacher, he was called to the
extraordinary chair. Even this is not enough. The German uni
versities are all rival institutions, and the custom is universal, of
appointing those who fill the prominent places in any one of them,
to a similar place in another. To induce them to leave the chairs
which they occupy, large pecuniary offers are made, and to these
are not unfrequently added titles and decorations.' The govern
ment of the university are thus under the necessity of retaining
them by similar offers, or of seeing many of the students follow
ing the professor to a neigbouring institution. Learning and
talent are thus thrown into the market, and become as much an
article of commerce as any branch of manufactures. They are
usually struck off to, the highest bidder, unless the peculiar excel
lence of the library, as at Gottingen, or of the hospitals, as at
Berlin, should induce the individual to make a pecuniary sacrifice
for the sake of the greater facilities which his actual situation
affords for arriving at eminence.
In consequence of this prevailing custom, an extraordinary
professor is far from being certain of advancement to an, ordinary
chair, although he may have arrived at the first rank among his
rivals in the university where he resides. If- the fame of some
other in a distant institution should surpass his own, he may have
the mortification of seeing the vacancy filled by a stranger. The
consciousness of this danger is a new motive to him to be ever
active, and the thorough preparation which he makes, accordingly
enables him, when he has at length arrived at the ne plus ultra of
ascent, to appear in every respect fitted for his station. Here he
is still under the influence of the motives which have been already
referred to, which tend to keep him constantly active. But with even
these habits of application he might, at times, be persuaded to
relax his efforts. Many of these gentlemen by the time they have
reached the ordinary professorship, have acquired such fortunes
or reputation as might induce them to cease from exertion and
to live upon their past fame, like " a sword in its Scabbard rust
ing ingloriously away," were not new motives still to be presented
to their minds. These are the titles and ribbons which are con
ferred by the monarchs on those ordinary professors, who in that

182 BERLIN.
station acquire great distinction. As soon as a man here has ac
quired fortune he covets titles, for literary reputation is not suffi
cient to satisfy the boundless love of distinction. The desire of
having a Von prefixed to his name, the hope of receiving the order
of the black eagle of Prussia, of the white falcon of Weimar, of
the great cross of the order of merit of Bavaria, &c., which from
time to time are conferred on the literati of this country, induces
him to continued exertions. The presentation of one of these
increases his wish for more, until he becomes as desirous of them
as an Italian vetturirio is of his buono mano. With this system of
advancement, bestowing its rewards exclusively according to the
talents and industry of the individual, you will easily perceive
that to be a professor in Germany, requires an amount of learning
and a course 6f preparation to which in the United States we are
strangers. Many of the preceding remarks are made with feelings of deep
regret, and not in the spirit of censure. I am perfectly aware of
the great difficulties that are thrown in the way of attainments in
a country like our own : I am equally aware that the means of
procuring an education in some branches of knowledge, particu
larly in exegetical theology, have not extensively existed till within
a few years. Most of these difficulties can be henceforth over
come, with the aid of German ardour and German industry. This
is the vinegar that will soften-the intellectual mountains which
the student is compelled to climb. With these no Alpine heights
need discourage him, nor ipduce him to retire and leave the glo
rious country which lies beyond, unexplored and unconquered.
With this he will surmount every eminence, and though Alps on
Alps arise, he will continually advance, until standing on an intel
lectual Mount Blanc, the prospect of another clime and a distant
age rises to his view, to reward him for his exertions.
The time I hope will soon arrive, when the facilities for acquir
ing knowledge will be within the reach of every individual. A
theological professor who is not well versed in exegetical literature,
does not exist this side of the Rhine, and few clergymen can be
found in this part of Germany, Vho are not tolerably well ac
quainted with the Hebrew language and its literature. It would be
unreasonable to demand, that our professors should be as profound

UNIVERSITY. 183
scholars as those of this country : this at present Is Impossible.
We have no libraries by means of which they can arrive at the
same degree of excellence. With the exception of that of Cam
bridge, I have not seen one that contains, independently of its
Greek, Latin, and English authors, one work in. twenty which is
indispfensable to the eye of a German librarian, and which can
easily be found in the large libraries of this country. With such
a poverty of materials, how can it be expected that we should ar
rive even at moderate reputation in literature and science ? But
although the historian, the professors in modern literature, and
especially the authors who write on subjects aside from the beaten
track, can procure but few of the books to which they are referred
in examining the subjects on which they write ; those who fill the*
chairs of classical literature and of theology, will soon be able to
procure such as are necessary to become thorough exegets in their
departments. Even where these do not exist, it is delightful to
reflect, that our commerce with Europe is now so extended, as to
enable them at any time to procure them. Neither our literary
men nor our clergymen, are in such indigent circumstances, as to
prevent their availing themselves of the chef-d'oeuvresia foreign
literature in their departments. A little of Hannibal's vinegar will
enable them hereafter to surmount every obstacle.
No one can lament more than myself the poverty of our libra
ries. I should look upon the individual who would establish such
a library in the United States, as that of Gottingen, as the greatest
benefactor to my country, who has lived since the days of Wash
ington. A residence near such a library as that just mentioned,.
near those of Berlin, of Dresden, or of la Bibliothkque du Roi at
Paris, is almost^ enough, independently of family attaehments, to
reconcile a student to leave his country, and to reside in a foreign
land. How long shall we wait before a small part- of the literary
treasures of the Continent are landed on our shores ? When will
our libraries become objects of interest to the eye of the foreigner I
Our country is overflowing with wealth, and her physical and mo
ral resources excite the astonishment of foreign nations. The
time has gone by, for us to chaunt the old hackneyed song, " We
must level our forests before we strike the lyre." The United
States are at least twice as rich as Prussia, and are increasing in

184 BERLIN.
wealth With five times the rapidity. We have as yet very Hmited
means of acquiring literary reputation, and not one university, in
the German sense of the word. Prussia, with an equal population,
has six national universities, each of which, Greifswald excepted,
has from two to four times as many instructors as Cambridge ; and
that of Berlin, has greater literary resources than all the collegiate
and university libraries and cabinets of the United States can
afford. When I speak of the universities of Germany, you must not
understand me speaking of institutions which are the same with
our own. They correspond only with the professional depart
ments in our colleges. The students here, before they enter them,
receive an education in the classics, at some one or two of the hun
dred gymnasia of the country, much superior to that acquired at
our colleges ; and in mathematics and physical science, one that is
equal to that in most of the latter. To form a correct comparison,
it is unnecessary to deduct all the academical students. I have
now before me a list of all the students in the Prussian universities
in 1825. More than three-fourths of these are pursuing theology,
law, and medicine. The remainder are studying some one or more
of the fifty or sixty branches of the philosophical department,
many of them with the intention of devoting themselves to science
or belles-lettres, while others hope to obtain places under govern
ment, or to lead a life of ease on their estates. In these six uni
versities there were the last ye^r, 4816 students.* In the medical
schools of Philadelphia, Baltimore, New-York, Boston, New-Haven,
Lexington, and Dartmouth, the only ones which deserve to be
named, there were never more than 1300 students at a time, pro
bably not more than 1100. The theological schools of Andorer,t
Cambridge, New-Haven, Princeton, Auburn, New- York, and Vir
ginia, they have never had at any one time four hundred students.
There are not one hundred young men studying law at all the
* In the winter of 1828, there were in the Prussian universities, five thou
sand eight hundred and ninety students. Vid. Foreign Review, No. 3d, pao-e
266. t Reference ie hero made to the stale of tlie medical, theological, and le
gal schools, previous to the year 182J, when I went to Europe.

UNIVERSITY. 185
colleges and universities of our country. The number of gra
duates who are pursuing science and literature at these institutions,
with the intention of devoting their lives to these pursuits, has
never been fifty. Taking the largest of these estimates, we have
in Prussia the number of students amounting to 4816 ; in the Uni
ted States, to 1850. It should be recollected, however, that three-
fourths of our students are the sons of our farmers, while not one
in fifty is here the son of a peasant. From this you will be ena
bled to form a comparative estimate respecting the liberal educa
tion of the inhabitants of the towns in this country, and in the
United States.
Happily for the literature of Prussia, as it must be admitted, this
country is not a confederate republic, and it has but two prominent
sects. There is, accordingly, no necessity for establishing a. uni
versity in every department of the kingdom for as many different
sects as there are departments. The money devoted to the support
of these institutions, is not as with us, drawn off in forty or fifty
channels, (for in the United States almost every state has one or
two, and some of them three and four colleges,) each of which is
soon dried up. Flowing as it does in a small number only, they
make the wilderness to bud and blossom as the rose. • The clamour
of this or that province, this or that town, that the governirient is
spending the people's money, that the university is not properly situa
ted, and their consequent refusal to re-elect those who were instru
mental in making such appropriations, are here unknown. The
money thus appropriated is not, as with us, applied, principally to
buildings, to the mere outside of literature in the form of brick,
stone, and mortar ; but to the establishment and increase of libra
ries, cabinets and apparatus.
In the universities of this country, no buildings are erected, but
those which are necessary to contain the materiel of literature.
The lectures in most of the universities are delivered in the houses
of the professors. In Berlin, it is true, they are held in the uni
versity edifice, but it is in the same building where the cabinets of
natural history, anatomy, &c. are assembled. In Leipzig and Halle
a few of the lectures are delivered in the public edifice ; but most
of them are at the houses of the professors. The amount of money
thus saved, to be appropriated to learning, is very great. To
25

186 BERLIN.
illustrate this, we may refer to two facts which have come under
your observation. The new granite chapel at Cambridge cost, as
I have always understood, sixty thousand dollars ; and the two
buildings at Andover, the chapel and college, eighty thousand.
Two buildings at New-Haven, corresponding, in almost every res
pect, with those of Andover, and equally useful, though inferior in
beauty, cost 24,000 dollars, or 12,000 each. Had similar edifices
been erected at those places, there would have been left a surplus
of 48,000 at Cambridge, and of 56,000 at Andover, for the increase of
the libraries of those institutions. This sum, judiciously expended
in Europe, would have procured for the former thirty thousand,
and for the latter thirty-five or forty thousand volumes of standard
works. What a different prospect would such an appropriation
have presented to the eye of the scholar ! 'What an influence
would two such libraries, united to those which now exist in those
institutions, have exerted on the public mind ! They would soon
have become the favourite residences of our students, the classic
ground of our country ; and graduates would have resorted to
them from every college in the United States, to avail themselves
of their literary treasures.
The prospects of our country, in a political point of view, are
very brilliant ; sufficiently so to satisfy the iriost ardent wishes of
an American. My heart beats with pride and joy when I contrast
its prosperity with that of the richest countries on the continent ;
and when I look forward to the future, I think I can see the United
States rising with a grandeur and glory unequaUed since the birth
of time. In a religious point of view, it is equally flattering. The
activity of our benevolent and religious institutions, leads one to
hppe, that the time is not far distant, when the silence of our im
mense forests, now only broken by the shout of the savage, and
the howl of the wolf, will be exchanged for the sounds of many
thousand " church going bells," and that from most of its hamlets,
prayer will daily ascend from hearts overflovring with gratitude and
love. The rapid increase of these institutions leads one to believe
that, ere long, many of the ships which spread tiieir canvass for a
Pagan land, will bear missionaries, bibles and artists, to diffuse the
blessings of Christianity and civilization to those buried in igno
rance and sin. But with all this to excite our joy, there is, in our

UNIVERSITY. 187
literary prospects, very little to gladden the eye. I fear that, in
this respect, we are to be the by-word of monarchists. Our caTi-
iion and our commerce will make us respected, perhaps feared, but
will do little to excite the admiration of the literati of Europe.
Who can look at Lorenzo de Medici, without feeUng far more res
pect for him as the patron of genius, than as the richest man of
Florence? Who can look at thatrepubUc, and distinguish its proud
merchants, in the blaze of its literary fame ? What intelligent
American can look at England, and feel half the respect for her
proud triumphs, from Crecy and Poictiers to Waterloo, that he
does for her Shakspeare, her Milton, her Bacon, and Newton?
The arches of triumph which commemorated those victories, have,
and will, crumble into oblivion ; but those proud names will shine
with increasing effulgence, until time shall be no more.
Our universities, in some respects, resemble those of Eng
land ; which, however well they may answer in a monarchy, are
very ill adapteS to a republic like ours. As a nation, we are the
most intelligent on earth ; as a literary nation, ours is the least
respectable, the Catholic countries south of us, and those in South
America excepted. Commerce, agricultuj-e, manufactures, and
politics, absorb most of our thoughts ; and we feel perfectly satis
fied if our sons receive an education similar to that of their fathers.
In this respect, we have not advanced with the spirit of the age.
American travellers are proverbial on the continent for their igno
rance of foreign language and Uterature. Even few of our foreign
ministers can talk fluently in other languages than their own when
they leave our shores, while almost every valet de pldce, and ser
vant of a large hotel in Germany, Russia, or Italy, can at least speak
French, and many of them English. We appear to feel extensively
as if the treasures of the mind were confined to the Latin, Greek,
and English languages. For this reason not only the chefd'oeuvres
of the continental nations, but the researches they have made in
oriental and modern literature, are, to most of our countrymen,
sealed books. How many hundreds of our lawyers are unacquainted
with the celebrated code of Napoleon, because they have never
learned the French language ! How large a number of our physi
cians are equally ignorant of the actual state of their own science
in Paris, for the same reason ! How few of our clergymen are suf-

188 BERLIN.
fieiently acquainted with the German language, to avail themselves
of the researches made in oriental literature, and of the great dis
coveries of the Germans in criticism.
The peculiar form of our government renders it excessively dif
ficult to establish a university on a popular foundation, without
irritating not only the feelings of every man who loves to harp
upon national economy, but also of every sect throughout the state
where the university is to be located. Our division into so many
small republics, excites the very laudable desire in the minds of
many of the inhabitants, to have a state university. The feeling
with us almost universally exists, that a foundation must be laid for
the religious instruction of the students. As the funds of the institu
tion are not sufficient to endow a professorship, and build a chapel
for every sect, one of them must, in this respect, be favoured ; and
in the eyes of the public, it is immediately transformed into an
engine for promoting the views of Presbyterians, Episcopalians, or
Baptists. Those belonging to other sects immediately become dis
satisfied, and henceforward r;fuse, if they form a majority, to
make the necessary appropriations to its support. If not suffi
ciently numerous to prevent this, they usually succeed by raising
the hue and cry of wasting the public inoney, in which all young po
liticians unite, as this is the road to success at the ensuing election.
Our literary institutions, like the hare, are thus hunted down ; and
if they escape destruction, they are compelled to pass an existence
in silence, far removed from the notice of their pursuers. In this
respect, a monarchical form of government possesses immense ad
vantages over a republic. Most monarchs glory in being thought
the patrons of learning, the Maecenas of their countries. For
tunately for literature, they can dispose of the public funds to pro
mote its prosperity, without being afraid of losing the votes of the
lower classes in their vicinity. The cry of wasting the " people's
money," raised by these and similar classes of society, who would
rejoice to bring every one down to their own level of ignorance, as
well as the poisonous breath of sectarianism, like the Simom and
Sirocco, dry up all those fountains in our conntry which are neces
sary to the luxuriance of literature. Under their influence it often
pines away ; and if it survives, it flourishes like an exotic in a bar
ren and frigid soil.

UNIVERSITY. 189
Were it not for our perfectly democratical form of government,
we should be placed upon a footing somewhat similar to the small
states of Germany. Like our individual states, they are too small
in population and resources to exert much influence on the political
world. Only one avenue to distinction remains, viz.' that of lite
rature. Accordingly we find in many of them, at least one uni
versity, which is patronised in the most liberal manner, and pro
vided very abundantly with the materiel of instruction. A literary
rivalry is thus excited, which is not only visible in' the broad foun
dation on which they rest, but also in the strife which io generally
exists among the monarchs, to obtain the most eminent literati of
this country. No means within their power are left unemployed
to attain the summit of excellence, and to increase the facilities
for instruction. Accordingly you find that some of these states,
whose territory and population are so small, as almost to escape
your observation in a general survey of Europe, hold in the lite
rary world a more distinguished rank than the country of the
Czar, notwithstanding he can say with Philip, in Schiller's tragedy
of Don Carlos, " Die Sonne geht in meinem Staat nicht unter."*
Weimar, for example, with a territory not larger than many of
the counties of New-York, and a population of two hundred and
three J;housand inhabitants, has a university of between four and
five hundred students,! with two libraries, containing one hundred
and forty thousand volumes, three learned societies, and several
distinguished gymnasia, besides other schools of an elevated cha
racter. Baden, with a territory not so large as Massachusetts, and
a population of but little over a million, has two universities, con
taining almost twelve hundred students, three public libraries, in
which are assembled one hundred and forty thousand volumes,
four lycea, and fourteen gymnasia, to say nothing of the numerous
Latin schools which exist there. It is such institutions which give
* The sun never sets on my dominions.
t Before the murder of Kotzebue there were almost eleven hundred students
in that university. As Sand was a student of Jena, many of the German
monarchs enacted a law, forbidding any of their Subjects to join that univer
sity.

190 BERLIN.
to these petty kingdoms and duchies their fame, without which
they would be almost unnoticed, or if observed, soon forgotten
by the traveller. More learned works have issued from the uni-
yersity of Gottingen in less than ninety-five years, than from the
whole continent of America during the three centuries which have
elapsed since its discovery. It is this literary reputation which
has extended the fame of these countries to the most distant lands
where students exist, and their patrons, in the eyes of every phi
lanthropist, have much more reason to glory in their prosperity,
than the autocrat in his million of bayonets. Why cannot most of
our states, in proportion to their population, hold the same intel
lectual rank in the Republic of Letters ? They might easily do
it, were their governments sufficiently enlightened to place our
literary institutions on an equally broad foundation, provided the
spirit of sectarianism would not violate the comparatively holy
ground of literature, and by its proselyting breath cover it with
ruin and desolation.
Before dismissing this subject, on which I have dwelt perhaps
•already too long, I must allude to a defect which exists in aU our col
leges and universities, one too, of which we seem to be totally uncon
scious. I allude to the appointment of tutors to instruct the three
younger classes. The station itself is neither sufficiently lucrative,
nor respectable, in the eyes of these young gentlemen, nor in those
of the public, to induce any one of them to fix upon it as a verma-
nent employment. The great majority of those who fill these
places, are chosen from one to three years, after receiving their
degrees. During this interval, many of them, it is true, have been
employed in instruction in our grammar schools, in the hie, haec,
hoc, and the o, n, to of Latin and Greek literature, but others have
been pursuing their classical studies, and are thus less qualified
to become instructers then when they were graduated. Even
the former have been most of the time occupied with the rudi
ments of these languages, and however well they may be qualified
to give instruction in this respect, they do nothing towards ,,
explaining the author exegetically, or making their hearers feel
his beauties. The recitations become mere dry translations, with
out any allusion to the antiquities, the state of society, or the
circumstances under which the author wrote, his work often mere

UNIVERSITY. 191
words, conveying ideas so faint, as to divest his poetry or prose
of most of its beauty. The recitation is resorted to from neces
sity, consequently listened to with but little pleasure, and its
termination diffuses joy over the faces of most of those who are
present. Independently of the youth and the want of preparation of this
class of instructers^ there is another evil quite as great, and which
exists almost universally in our colleges. Most of the tutors at
their appointment are pursuing their professional studies, or com
mence them soon after. The limited salary they receive, presents
no inducement to them to continue any longer in this situation
than is necessary, as each of the professions hold out to them a
much more flattering prospect. Instead of devoting all their time
to preparing themselves for their recitations, not a small part of
it is passed in studying law, medicine, or theology. They view
these places as harbours, where they can safely lie during the
storm which usually darkens the prospects of young men just
preparing to enter on their course of life. Their future profession
is the great object of interest, and one to which most of the ener
gies of their minds are directed. Though in instruction they com
ply with their prescribed duties, they rarely do much to rouse the
enthusiasm of their pupils, and quite as rarely find their own
excited. Were their salaries increased two-fold, and they thus
enabled to marry, there would be no difficulty in finding young
men of talents who would gladly avail themselves of such stations, ^
not for a few years only, but until they, by their attainments, were
called upon to fill the vacancies in the professorial chairs of the
colleges and universities of our country. Instead of finding them
selves treated with so Uttle respect as they often are by students,
they would in their eyes be regarded as but little inferior to the
professors, as many of them, from their age and attainments,
would become their eqfials. The remarks I have made when speak
ing of the importance of thoroughly educating professors for their
stations, are equally applicable to this class of instructers. Their
labour might be greatly diminished, if each one, like the teachers
in the German universities, would confine himself to one depart
ment, and instruct all the classes in that. They would then
arrive at a thorough knowledge of their particular branches of learn-

192 BERLIN.
ing or science, and be enabled to excite an ardent enthusiasm
among their pupils. Their instruction, instead of being as it
often is, not very interesting, would be prized by most of their
pupils, and the recitation bell would be to them a summons to
a literary banquet, no less agreeable than that which calls them to
the refectory.

193

LETTER XII.

Berlin, 1826.

Of all the ill-looking and slovenly students that I have seen in
Europe, there are none to be compared with those of this
university. They are usually indifferently dressed, with coats and
pantaloons of every fashion that has perplexed the men of the
needle for the last dozen years^ Most of thein wear woollen
shirts, of a yellowish white, or red colour. Of those who wear
linen, the number is very small that have collars to this garment.
A few of them, like the students in the smaller towns, still adhere to
the old German dress, and wear a profusion of locks, but the
number is constantly diminishing, as they are entirely unobserved
in this large city. Their flannel and woollen shirts are often
concealed by a vest buttoning to the throat, or by a chemisette,
which is fastened with strings to the neck. This article of almost
every German student's \vardrobe, is about a foot square, covering
the breast. It has a ruffle attached to it, of such dimensions, that
could Dominie Sampson have seen one of them, he would have
cried out " prodigious !" with more than usual emphasis. Others
conceal their woollen shirts, by plaited folds of black silk, which are
attached to a collar of the same material. Those of them who can
afford to buy cravats, prop up their chins by means of an enormous
stiffener, which renders it almost as difficult for them to behold
their feet, as it was for Falstaff to see his knees. With few
exceptions, they wear caps of black cloth, with a crown from one
to two inches in height. These cover only the top of the head,
and are so small, as to bear the same proportion to their craniums,
as a clam shell to the skull of a monkey.
Most of the students are very poor; but, although they are not
clad in the most modern costume, arid have but little gracefulness,
they are exceedingly industrious. Many of them make their
breakfasts upon a piece of dry bread, which they eat in the
36

194 BERLIN.
lecture-rooms, or in the lobby of the university, during the interim
between the lectures. They are the most studious of any of the
students whom I have seen, and appear actuated by a most ardent
desire tp acquire knowledge. Although not required to be present
at the lectures, they are very rarely absent. As they are under no
restraint, they attend what lectures they please, and when they
please; and, although they are permitted to return home, ad
libitum, they so rarely avail themselves of this privilege, that the
lecture-rooms are as well filled during the last week of the course
as during the first. You cannot cast a glance at them, without
discovering that they are not very clean in their exterior; still they
manifest such enthusiasm in the pursuit of knowledge, (for not a
small proportion of them, are bearing up under the pressure of the
greatest poverty,) that you cannot fail to respect them.
In .the lecture-rooms, they universally take notes, and write
with as great rapidity as if, they were listening to the instructions
of the Pope. It is objected by foreigners to this custom, so
universal in the German universities, that the students write too
much, and depend entirely on the ipse dixit of the professor, and
that, as a consequence, they do not exercise their own powers,
but become the mere parrots of his opinions. An anecdote,
illustrative of this eagerness of the students to write down every
thing that the professor utters, and of the supposed value of their
note books, was related to me while at Gottingen. A young man
from Hesse Cassel, who had passed three years at the university
of Heidelberg, having finished his education, started for home with
nearly twenty volumes of notes which he had taken at the lectures.
On the way, his trunk, containing his note books, was cut off
from the carriage. He was so distressed in consequence of this
robbery, for he regarded it as the loss of his education, that he
returned to Heidelberg, and studied three years longer, to provide
himself with a trunk full of learning. This anecdote, it is true,
exhibits the eagerness of the students to collect the opinions and
remarks of the professors, in rather a ludicrous light. A short
residence at a German university, however, will convince any one,
that this habit results not so much from a belief that the professors
are oracular, as from the peculiar circumstances in which tlie
students are placed. Most of them are in such indigent circum-

STUDENTS. 195
stances, not only at the university, but even for several years after
they have become lawyers, physicians, clergymen, and instructers
in the gymnasia, that they are unable to purchase many books.
The notes which they take, contain not only extracts of the
lectures, but a list of all the authorities referred to by the professor,
with the chapters and sections. When investigating similar sub
jects afterwards, instead of being compelled to search a long time
for the works in which they are discussed, they are able to refer
to them immediately. Many of the professors, have likewise their
own peculiar theories, which are not to be found in any published
work ; for they often do not publish the substance of their lectures
until late in life. Besides, nine persons out of ten, can give much
closer attention to a subject when they write an abstract of it, than
when they merely listen to the lecture. >
The students in Berlin are not divided into Landsmannschaften
as in the universities which are situated in the smaller towns, and
duels very seldom occur among tliem. I have now been here
nearly six months, and have heard of but one. This city is so
large, that they are almost lostiin it ; and, as they assemble only
at the lectures, they find few opportunities for picking a quarrel.
The magnitude of Berlin, and the efficiency of the police, prevent
them from adopting any customs and rules respecting the side
walks, which are enforced with so much rigour by the Burschen of
Gottingen, Jena, and Heidelberg. In these small.towns, the students
bear so large a proportion to the citizens, that they usually control
them. Here they form so small a minority, that they are almost
unobserved. A residence in a large city also, has a tendency to
soften and refine the manners of every individual ; and even a
German Bursch is much less savage here' than elsewhere. Rows
very seldom take place between them and the police, like those
in^the universities just mentioned, and at Ha^e and Leipzig.
In the smaller towns, difficulties occur not unfrequently, and
sometimes assume a very serious character. In Halle, a few
years since, the students armed themselves with swords and clubs,
fought a regular battle with the police and military, and succeeded
in driving them out of the city, a number being wounded on each
side. As the armed force was soon increased, the students left the
town, and marching to one of the neighbouring villages, made an

196 BERLIN.
encampment, where they remained several days, until a treaty was
concluded hetween them and their enemies, through the mediation
of some of the professors. In Leipzig, such disorders are frequent.
Whenever a student has been insulted by one of the police, the
cry of die Burschen, die Burschen lieraus, or " turn out Burschen,"
is shouted from window to window, and from street to street, by
the fourteen hundred students of that university, until aU other
sounds are lost in this united shout of thunder. Out of every door,
issue from two to half a dozen Burschen, who direct themselves
to one of the squares, and prepare for combat. The police,
on such occasions, arm themselves with an instrument called
a Stange. It is a piece of wood, if I mistake' not, somewhat
in the form of a heavy club, with an elastic piece of steel attached
to it. Whenever the students thus assemble in considerable num
bers, with riotous intentions, the police approach them, and throw
the Stange on the pavement. The curve of this instrument is so
elastic, that it will bound several rods, and fall with so much force
as to injure severely those whom it strikes. It is thus thrown to
disperse them, as it can be made, by one who has had a Uttle
practice, to bound in any direction. This sometimes produces the
desired effect, after several of them have been wounded. The
students not unfrequently prepare for such attacks, by arming
themselves with long poles, and, as the Stange is bounded at them,
they throw it off, and then make a charge upon the police, who, as
they are not very numerous, are almost always put to flight by the
overwhelming force of their opponents.
In Leipzig, whenever a landlord has offended one of the students,
and will not make a suitable apology, he is declared by them to
be in Verschiss;* that is, infamous. All those who then had rooms
in his house leave him, and no one dares afterwards to enter it
Should he at any subsequent period make an apology, and the
* This word is not very classical, having been coined by the students of
that University. There are a great number of words and expressions made
use of by the members of these institutions, which are almost unintelligible to
the Germans at large. Even the researches of German philologists wUPlhrow
no light upon the conversation of tlie Burschen. It is often as unlike the lan
guage of the literati, as the idiomatic phrases of tlie 'Venetian gondoliers, and
Neapolitan Lazzaroni, are unlike the pure Tuscan of Boccacio or Machiarelli.

QUARRELS WITH THE POLICE. 197
individual offended declare that ample satisfaction had been re
ceived, this bull of excommunication is announced to be null and
void. In Gottingen, the police resort to another mode to disperse
the students. As soon as they discover that there is a prospect of
a riot, they approach them in battle array, armed with sticks, to
the middle of which a rope is attached. If they do not disperse at
the first summons, they throw this among them, and then run
in an opposite directio^n, retaining the end of the rope in their
hands. The stick thus coming in contact with their legs, usually
trips them up. As soon as they are down, the police advance,
take them prisoners, ' and conduct them to the university prison,
unless they should be rescued by their brethren.
Very serious difficulties not unfrequently occur between the
students and the government of the universities. You probably
recollect seeing in our papers, some few years since, an account of
all the students of the university of Gottingen having left the
institution for some cause of this kind. During my residence there
last summer, the government of that university enacted a law,
requiring the students, in case they should be present at any duel,
to appear as witnesses. As the friends of the parties concerned,
are usually invited to be present in eonsiderable numbers at these
combats, they saw themselves under the necessity of being called
upon at any moment to testify against their companions. This law
raised the ire of the Burschen to a boiling point. The Lands
mannschaften were immediately assembled, when they unanimously
voted, with the exception of that of Hanover, that they would
leave the university, unless this law was repealed. The Hano
verians were excepted, as a law exists in the kingdom, that if any
student shall be expelled from that institution, he shall ever
afterwards be incapable of holding any office under government.
As this punishment would for ever destroy |heir future hopes in
life, even the most violent students admitted that they might
remain without sacrificing their honour. Every other member of
the university, however, who refused to leave it. Was to be con
sidered unworthy of the name of a Bursch, and to be treated like a
Philister. They agreed to depart in the night, to break the
windows of all those who refused to join them, and then compel
them to do it by force. At a subsequent meeting of the presidents

198 BERLIN.
of the Landsmannschaften, it was resolved to apply to the govern
ment of Hanover, previously to the execution of these measures,
and to ascertain whether they would not alter the law enacted by
that of the university. Several of these presidents were appointed
a committee to proceed to the capital, and lay their complaint
before that body. On application to the government, their petition
was heard, but no definite answer was given until the Semester
was ended, when the decision of the directors of the university
was confirmed. The next term, the number of students decreased
from one to two hundred, and Gottingen, which a short time
before had stood numerically the second among the German uni
versities, now sunk to the third or fourth place.
No American can visit one of these institutions, unless that of
Berlin, and perhaps those of Austria be excepted, who is not
struck with the great want of an operative religious influence among
the students. In most, all of those which are situated in the small
towns, there is a university chapel, where there is regularly
preaching. As the students are not required to attend, few others
than the theological students attend divine service, unless when
attracted by some eloquent preacher. The majority of the pro
fessors, even those of theology, disbelieve the revelation of the
Old Testament, and regard its authority with no more reverence
than that of the Iliad or the Aneid.** Many of them look even
upon the New Testament as uninspired. They admit that the
instructions of Christ contain a most beautiful system of morality,
much purer than the writings of Socrates, Plato, and Seneca, but
still worthy of our observation, only so far as it corresponds 'with
the dictates of reason. Of course it has, in their view, no obligatory
force, any further than it tends to promote the happiness of society.
The miracles of the Old, and often those of the New Testament,
are explained ^way in conversation and in their lecture rooms, and
the inspiration of )!he Apostles, and sometimes of Christ, is pubUcly
denied. As many of them are men of immense research, they are
able to present arguments in support of their opinions, which the
students find it impossible to answer. Consequently, whatever
views they may have entertained on their entrance, they soon
* I except hero the universities of Berlin and Tiibingen, where a majority
of the theological professors believe in the revelation of the Old Testament.

SCEPTICISM OE THE STUDENTS; 199
coincide with the professor. The critical investigation of the
German divines during the last fifty years, have destroyed the
belief of the genuineness and authenticity of the Old Testament in
Germany, to such an extent, that the majority of intelligent Ger
mans now regard them as of no higher authority, than the works
of profane writers. No orthodox writer has yet "appeared, who
has been able, in their view, to overthrow the arguments which
have been advanced. Even many of the nominally orthodox dis
believe its inspiration, and adopt the opinion, that the books were
written at a much later period than that generally assigned to them.
This class generally believe that the histories Which they contain
are true, and some of them admit the truth of the miracles, there
related. They will, however, acknowledge very extensively, that
the arguments against their authenticity are such, as have not been
satisfactorily met, and some will confess that they can not answer
them. The students, as you may suppose, very rarely attach
much importance to the Old Testament, and it is studied by them
more as a monument of ancient history and literature,' than as a
spiritual guide through life. On the subject of the New Testament,
there is also the greatest diversity of opinion, though the majority
of the professors in every department unite in disbelieving it.
As the sabbath is derived from the Old Testament, you will
readily believe, that in a country where most of the literati and
clergy deny the purity of the source, they will not regard the
sanctity of an institution which is its fruit. As Christ and the
Apostles have, inno one instance, alluded to the Christian Sabbath
as binding upon us in the Mosaic sense, even those who beilieve in
their inspiration, will not admit that it is obligatory upon Christians.
I believe I am within the bounds of truth, in asserting, that there
are not five orthodox professors and clergymen in Germany, who
esteem the Sabbath in any other light, than as a Mosaic institution.*
Its influence on the students, it may be supposed, is exceedingly
limited, except as it furnishes the means of contributing to their
health, for with them it is peculiarly the day for hunting, riding,
shooting, and fighting duels. The observance of this day, which is
* After repeated inquiries made on this subject, I could never hear of a
single clergyman, who regarded, the Sabbath as obligatory in the same sense
that we do in the United States. i

200 BERLIN.
perhaps the most efficient means of promoting morality among onr
own students, is by those of this country so neglected, or worse than
neglected, that probably no day in the week beholds so much
iniquity as this.
In the literary institutions of the United States, the church, the
clergy, and the theological students, possess a very auspicious
influence in promoting morality among the students. In the
Lutheran church, however, the church is the world, and the world
the church, and as there is no discipline, its influence is very
limited. In the examination of the theological students antecedently
to their admission into the desk, the only question which usually
comes before the consistory, is that which respects their intellectual
qualifications for the office of a preacher. If found thus qualified,
they are admitted to preach without hesitation. As nothing else
is required, any man can enter the desk, and after he Jias com
menced his career, the public will find him very little changed.
Unbelievers and believers enter together, and reUgion ¦will prevail
very much in the ratio of their comparative numbers. The theo
logical students in the universities usually pursue this profession
from a peculiar attachment to it, from love for the tranquillity of a
clergyman's life, or from its presenting more flattering^ prospects
than any other. It is not thought necessary for them before they
enter the desk to be scrupulously moral. They may occasionally
fight a duel, and an instance or two of intoxication would not be
a sufficient ground in the eyes of the consistory, to exclude them
from this profession. Of the comparative morality of this and the
other classes of students, it is impossible for me to form an accurate
opinion. From what the Germans themselves say, I am con
vinced that they are less immoral than others, though there is
¦ certainly no great difference between many of them and their
companions in the other professions. From this sketch you will
see, that there is a great difference between the influence which
they exert, and that of the same class with us. Other students
here who do not peruse tiieir bibles, -vvhen they see such fruits,
usually suspect tiiat the tree is corrupt, and revelation is conse
quently almost lost upon them.
The government of many of the universities is very inefficient.
In all of these institutions there are laws against duelling, but like

GOVERNMENT OF THE STUDENTS. 201
those who are capitally convicted in England, not one in ten is
punished.* Of the duels which occurred at Gottingen, during my
residence there, not one case in a dozen came to the knowledge
of the government ; and the punishment of those who were dis
covered was very, inadequate to the offence. It was merely a
confinement in the university prison for a few days. There the
student remained, amusing himself with his books and his pipe,
and in receiving visits from his friends, who consoled him with
the assurance that it was heroic to suffer in such a cause.
Every student in that . university, and probably in most others,
promises at the time of his admission, that he will not be engaged
in any duel, so long as he remains a member. Most of them,
however, become principals in several, and not a small number
in many combats. These duels are always known to many of the
students before they take place. The police officers often skulk
about the town and vicinity, to discover the parties concerned;
but they rarely do it until after they have terminated their contest.
Duels are fought at noonday, in the rooms of those students who
reside in the most populous streets, while no precaution is taken by
the combatants, but that of shutting the windows and locking the
door. It is so easy to avoid detection, that the danger of discovery
ceases almost to be thought of.
If the government of the university are so desirous of eradicating
this evil, why do they allow all the weapons for duelling to be sold
in the towns where the universities are situated ? Why do they not
seize upon the armories of the Landsmannschaften 1 Why do they
compel the students to promise that they will not be engaged in
any combat, knowing as they do that so long as no effectual meas
ures are taken to prevent them, their promises are empty air ?
Why are they not dismissed when they have broken their word ?
If a student utters a syllable against the politics of the state, he is
so speedily and effectuallyt punished that there is a general
* The students when convicted are not pardoned, but the efforts made to
detect them are so inefficient, that no anxiety is felt by the combatants.
t Many of the students who~were engaged iu forming the political clubs
existing a few years since in the German universities, were imprisoned, and
sent to the penitentiaries. Some of them hay« already been confined for a
number of years ; and no one, not even their parents, know any thing of their
27

202 BERLIN.
silence afterwards on such subjects ; why is he not thus punished
when he breaks the laws of the university ? In cases of necessity
its government can command the assistance of thousands of bayo
nets to support it, and to carry its laws into effect. If every
student were to be expelled who was either principal or second in
one of these combats, they would cease in one month, and would
soon be regarded by the young men with the same contempt and
abhorrence as by their parents. This measure would be effectual,
since a law exists in this country that no student, once expelled,
shall be received at another university. All the political clubs
were suppressed a few years since, and the students dare not
now allude pubUcly to this subject. This was effected with
out the least difficulty. Why do they allow the Landsmannschaf
ten to exist year after year, when every professor and every
citizen knows as well as the students, that they are nothing more
nor less> than duelling societies?, The name implies a patriotic
association, but every one who has resided a month at a German
university discovers, that they have nothing to do with love of
country, but are established merely to keep alive a spirit of bully
ing. Were these associations once abolished, and every such
violation df a promise punished as it merits, we should soon
hear no more of this great enemy of morality in these institu
tions. But the great difficulty, it is said, lies here. Every state is
proud of its university, and is very desirous to increase as much
as possible the number of its students, as well from die great repu
tation which these institutions attach to the duchy or kingdom
where they are situated, as from the large amount of money which
they bring into circulation.* The professors, who receive the
greater part of their incomes from their private lectures, are of
fate. During the month of May, two months after the date of the above
letter, many more were condemned to two, four, and ten years imprisonment ;
and one or two, for life. Vide the Berlin papers for May 1826, which contam
the royal decree.
* The money spent in Gottingen and Berlm, by tlie fifteen or si.xteen hun
dred students, cannot be less than four or five hundred thousand dollars per
annum. About one half of the students of every university are usually for
eigners. Half of this sum then comes from abroad.

UNIVERSITIES or GERMANY. 203
course dependent in a measure on the numbers of the students
who resort to the university. Their literary fame is in some
measure also connected with the number of tl^eir auditors. The
conviction of the young Germans is so universal that it is neces
sary for them to fight at least one duel, that very many of them
would probably refuse to join a university where a heavy penalty
should visit the first offence. The number of students would thus
be greatly diminished ; and the professors, as well as the state,
would find their incomes much lessened. Were one university,
however, to adopt a severe system of discipline in this respect,
although at first it might be a loser, I am convinced that it would
in a few years, C(Bteris paribus, be a great gainer. Many parents
would send their sons to such an institution in preference to others
which are mpre lawless ; and the students themselves, after a little
experience, would become reconciled to it. In consequence of the
great excesses of the students in the university of Tiibingen, during
the autumn of 1825, the government of Wiirtemberg abolished the
government of that institution, and sent an extraordinary civil
commissioner, vrith full power to put an end to these disturbances.
A division oi the royal gendarmes was quartered in the city to
assist him in putting down all opposition. A law was enacted,
that if any student should challenge one of his companions, or one
of the citizens, he should be publicly punished. How far this law
has been executed, and what has been its effect, I am unable to
say ; as the time of its enactment (December, 1825) is too recent,
and the distance of Tubingen is too great, for me to ascertain. If
the other governments of Germany would imitate that of Wiirtem
berg, and carry such a law into vigorous execution, we should
soon hear no more of these contemptible quarrels.
In 1821, there were twenty-two universities in Germany contain
ing, according to Hassel, 10,600 students, and 860 instructers.
Since that time the number of students and instructers have greatly
increased. According to a list of the German universities, publish
ed in One of the Berlin papers, April 21, 1826, there were in 1825
16,432 students, and 1059 instructers, shewing a gain of 5832 stu
dents, and of 199 instructers in four years. By instructers are un
derstood Ordinary and Extraordinary professors and teachers.
According to the writer of this article. Catholic Germany now con-

204 BERLIN.
tains about nineteen millions'* of inhabitants, and has but six uni
versities. In Protestant Germany there are seventeen millions of
inhabitants, and sixteen universities. This writer has reference
here to the number of Catholic and Protestant universities, for in
some Protestant countries there are one or more Catholic univer
sities ; and in Bavaria, which is Catholic, there is a Protestant
university at Erlangen. If, however, we compare the Catholic
countries with the Protestant, we shall be able to form a more cor
rect idea of their comparative patronage of literature. The Catho
lic countries, where universities are situated, are Austria, Bavaria,
and Baden. German Austria has the two universities of Vienna
and Prague with 3137 students. Bavaria has the three universities
Landshut, Erlangen, and Wiirzburg, with 1781 students. Baden
has the universities, of Freyburgand Heidleberg, with 1 182 students.
These countries which according to the most recent censusses,
contained between fourteen and fifteen millions of inhabitants,
have seven universities, with 6100 students. The Protestant
coimtries which have universities, are Prussia, Saxony, Hanover,
Wiirtemberg, Hesse Cassel, Hesse Darmstadt, Holstein, Meck
lenburg, Schwerin, and Weimar. Basle, as it is in Switzerland,
is here omitted, although it is much resorted to by the Germans.
These countries with a population of between fifteen and sixteen
milUons, have fourteen universities, containing more than 10,000
students. In this estimate, the small states which have no univer
sities are excluded, as they frequent those of other Catholic and Pro
testant countries. I here transcribe a list of all the Universities of
this country. Universities. J^umber of Instructers. J^umber of Students.
 15C6
 TIO
 931
 303
 1119

Prussia,

Berlin, . .

. 86

Breslau, . .

. 49

Bonn, . .

. 56

Konigsburg,

. 23

Greifswalde,

. 30

Halle, . . .

. 54

* Tills estimate of the population of Germany is too great. There cannot
be more than thirty-four millions of inhabitants at the present time, (viz.
1826) in all the states of Germany, as eight years since when the last census,
which I have seen of all thq Gorman states was taken, there were less than
thirty-two millions.

MEDICAL FACULTY.

205

Austria, Bavaria, Baden, 5
Switzerland,
"Wiirtemberg,Hesse Darmstadt,
Hesse Cassel,
Hanover, Weimar, Saxony,
Mecklenburg, Holstein,

Vienna,Prague, Erlangen, .
Landshut,"Wiirzburg, Heidelberg,
Freyburg, Basle, . .
Tiibingen, Giesen,
Marburg,Gottingen,
Jena,
Leipzig,
Rostock, Kiel, . . .

77 . ,  1688
55  1449
34  498
48  623
31 ...... . 660
55  626
35  556
24  214
44  8,27
39  • 371
38  304
89  1545
51  432
81  1384
34  201
26  238

1059

16,432

The instructers include the Ordinary and Extraordinary Professors and
Teachers. In (he account of the numbep of students in Berlin, there was an
error, which is here corrected. This catalogue, you will admit, is a splendid
exhibition of the patronage which learning has received in Germany. As
many of the Germans resort to the university of Basle,_I have included that
in the number. This list isfor the year 1825. -
The medical students in the German universities,- form more
than one-fourth part of the whole number. Iii 1825, the whole
number of students was between sixteen and seventeen thousand,
at least five thousand of whom belonged to this department. Such
an army of doctors issuing forth every- three years from those
institutions, would be terrifying to any nation but the Germans. It
is to a considerable extent, the custom in this country, for each
family to have its family physician, who calls every two or three
weeks to ascertain the state of their health, in order to anticipate
disease. At the end of the year he receives a present from the
family for this service, proportioned to their means and liberality.
Besides this he has separate fees for visiting them when sent for.
The fees of the physicians are regulated by an ordinance of the
government of the cities. In Berlin, it is about seventy-five cents
for the first and fifty for every subsequent visit, though foreigners
are expected to quadruple it. Considering their abflity, for they
are as a body perhaps surpassed by those of no other city of its
size, they certainly work much more reasonably, than any other
class of professional men within my knowledge.

206 BERLIN.
All the German governments support the medical department of
the universities very liberally. They are very well provided with
cabinets of anatomy, of mineralogy, and with botanical gardens.
Here, as well as in some other countries of Germany, there is
" a Minister for Religion, Education, and Medical affairs." As the
medical department does not in the remotest degree interfere with
politics, it is thought worthy of pecuUar patronage. No indivi
dual is allowed to receive the title of M. D., until he has completed
his three years' course at one of the universities. In Prussia, every
student mustrepair to Berlin before he is permitted to practise, where
he is minutely examined by a medical committee, and unless he
is pronounced well qualified, he must return to the university and
continue his studies. The advantages for acquiring a complete
education are so numerous, and the hospitals are so extensive in
the large cities, that no one can fail of becoming a good theo
retical and practical physician, if he has a moderate share of talents
and industry. The Prussians, and in truth all the northern Ger
mans, pride themselves not a little on the talents and attainments
of their medical professors. In reputation, the medical faculty is
not surpassed by any of the other three. They display the same
generak knowledge of their professions as gentlemen of other
departments, and are to a very considerable degree familiar with
the past and present state of their science in Europe and in our
own country. I have seen on the table of a physician, the medical
journals of Boston, New- York, and Philadelphia, Silliman's Journal
of Science, the North American Review, &c. with many of the
periodicals of Paris, London, and other cities of Em-ope. Several
of their physicians have conversed with me respecting Messieurs
Physic, Chapman, Hosack, Post, Warren, and other eminent phy
sicians of our country, more in the manner of Americans familiar
with the reputation of these gentlemen, than as residents of the
centre of Europe.
The Prussian government, a few years since, sent Mr. Lichten-
stein, professor of natural history in this university, to the Cape
of Good Hope, to examine the physical character of southern
Africa. He remained there a number of years, and during his
travels in that part of the continent, made very interesting and
valuable collections in zoology, ornithology, botany and minera-

FACULTY OF LAW. 207
logy, which he brought with him on his return to his native land.
In consequence of these and other additions, the cabinet of natural
history has become superior to any I have seen in Europe, except
ing that of the Garden of Plants at Paris. In the Botanical Garden
there are many thousand plants from South America, Africa, and
India, carefully preserved in hot-houses, where, by the aid of
artificial heat, they are made to flourish in almost the same beauty
as in their native climes. These buildings contain, not only the
plants, but many of the trees of those climates, some of which
have reached the height of forty or fifty feet. In such collections
the eye travels from country to country, and from continent to
continent, with almost the rapidity of thought, becomes acquainted
with the productions of sea, sky, and air ; and in a short period the
student acquires a more thoroiigh knowledge of the productions of
distant lands, than by the -perusal of books for. years. What im
mense resources does America present to the natural historian !
How rich are our forests in quadrupeds and birds ! What beauty
do the vegetable productions of Mexico and the tropical regions
of South America exhibit ! Are they not worthy of a small
portion of the time of our students ? How long must our young
men go to Europe to study the ornithology and zoology of our
own country, because extensive collections cannot be found at
home ? Is not this subject worthy of the attention of our govern
ment ? The despotic monarchs of Europe are sending expeditions
to the most distant quarters of the globe, to investigate the natural
history of every country; and minerals, plants, animals, birds,
&c., are transported to Europe at a great - expense, that the boun
daries of the human mind may be enlarged.^ Shall we, with a
revenue almost double our expenditures, do nothing to promote
so desirable an object? In this time of peace, which promises to
continue for a long period, how dould our naval officers and our men
of science be employed with so much profit to themselves and our
country ? A few such expeditions would remove the stigma that
now rests upon us, viz. that we are indifferent to science and
literature. The Faculty of Law in the German universities differs much from
th3t of England and the United States. It is divided into two depart
ments, Roman and German law. The former is never studied

208 BERLIN.
with us. Here, it not only holds a prominent place in the educa
tion of a lawyer, but is the foundation on which it rests. By
glancing your eye at the Index Lectionum in the appendix, you
will see whatinffuence the old Romans stiU exert over the minds
of the German lawyers. Within the last ten years, a number of
the professors of law in the German universities have asserted
that the civil law contains aU that is necessary for the jurisdiction
of modern nations. This opinion has been attacked and defended
with great abiUty. A contest has thus arisen, and still exists,
which has divided Germany into two parties. The Historic School,
the champion of which is Savigny, professor of Roman law in
the university df BerUn, and whom the Germans regard as the first
lawyer in Europe, maintains, that an intimate acquaintance with
the laws, customs, opinions, and state of society of the ancient
Romans, is all ihat is necessary for the government of society.
This opinion which has been first proposed since the Congress of
Vienna, is now adopted by many of the most eminent jurists of
Germany. The other party is led by Thiebaut, a professor in the university
of Heidelberg, and enrols among its supporters many individuals
,of great learning. They contend that the constitution of society
was so changed by the abolition of the Feudal system, that the
laws of the Romans are very inadequate to the present state of
Europe ; that it is, therefore, necessary to form laws adapted to the
existing state of society, and not to borrow them from countries
whose religion, customs, and national character, were so essentially
different from those of Europe at the present time. As my legal
knowledge is too imperfect to form an opinion on this subject, I shall
not venture one. The latter doctrine has the appearance of truth
at the first glance ; but I can easily believe that such a mind as that
of Savigny might induce any one, who is not a lawyer, to embrace
his opinion. His work, on this subject, for research, and for an
intimate knowledge of his profession, is regarded in this country,
as without a rival in any language. That of Thiebaut is thought
only inferior to that of his opponent.
The tribunals of Prussia are under the direction of two ministers.
The first is minister for the administration of justice in those pro
vinces which are governed by the Prussian code of laws ; the

COURTS OF PRUSSIA. 209
second is minister for those provinces which are governed by the
code of Napoleon. In the provinces, op the Rhine, tlie latter code
prevails : the laws of Prussia are in force throughout the rest of
the kingdom. The Courts of Prussia of the first class are,
I. The Secret Upper Tribunal. From this court there is no ap
peal. It has from ten to fifteen Judges, with a President, or Chief
Justice, at their head. The President receives a salary of six
thousand rix dollars. The Compensation of the other judges, w^ho
are called Rathe, or Counsellors, from two to three thousand.
Here both civil and criminal processes are brought, and receive
their last decision.
II. The Upper Court of Appeal at Posen. This is the capital
of Prussian Poland. This court was established, if I mistake not,
when this part of Poland was last united to Prussia. This provincp,
or gran4 duchy, as it is now called, contains, at the present time,
between nine hundred thousand and a million of inhabitants.
III. Revision und Kassationshof fiir die, RJpeinprovinzen zu
Berlin. This Court of Cassation, as it is usually called, was estab
lished exclusively as a court of appeal for the Rhine Provinces,
after they were united to Prussia, in 1815. All the courts, in that
part of the kingdom, are governed by the code of Napoleon ; but
its authority, by a recent decree of the Prussian government, is to
expire on the first of January, 1828 ; and after that period the
Prussian code will be the only one in force throughout the king
dom. The inhabitants of the Rhine provinces have become very
much attached to the laws introduced by Napoleon, from the influ
ence of time, as well as from the publicity of the proceedings of
these courts, and the belief that justice is much more^equitably ad
ministered there than in the eastern tribunals of Prussia. They
have sent many petitions to the government against the abolition
of the French code, but the desire of having a uniform system of
legislation, and, if you may believe the people, the fear also of hav-'
ing their courts too narrowly inspected, have occasioned, the rejection
of the petition. Fortunately, we know nothing of the vexations
to which the lawyers, and still more the people, are exposed, from
this frequent change of the laws. Few changes could produce such a
revulsion in the public mind in our country, as the abolition of our
laws, and the introduction of another system. That this should
28

210 BERLIN.
excite great opposition, at least of sentiment, cannot be surprising ;
and nothing but absolute necessity can justify the Prussian govern
ment for resorting to this measure.
This court of Cassation is the only one in Berlin where specta
tors are admitted, and this will soon cease to exist. In the Rhine
provinces, as well as in France, all criminal cases are decided by
juries ; but in this court of appeal the judges determine every ques
tion. With the lawyers, as well as the government of Prussia, a
very strong prejudice prevails against juries. With the former it
is so universal, that, perhaps, five cannot be found in the eastern
part of the kingdom, who are advocates for their introduction into
the Prussian courts. Many of the inhabitants of this division of
of Prussia, as well as all those in the Rhine provinces, are strongly
in favour of them. The objection which the lawyers make to them
is this, that it is impossible for one who is not acquainted with all
the intricacies of the law, to make those nice distinctions, which
will enable him to discover truth through the chaos of doubt, which
the council throw around even a criminal question. The king
of Bavaria, Maximilian Joseph, who has just deceased, sent, a
few years since, a very distinguished lawyer of that country to
England, for the express purpose of visiting the courts of Great
Britain, with the intention, if he made a favourable report, of intro
ducing juries into his dominions. This gentleman, after having
occupied nearly a year in the examination, on his return to Bava
ria, reported against the expediency of introducing them. The
courts of that country were, in consequence, continued on their
old foundation. In that part of Bavaria which is west of the Rhine,
in Baden, and in the Rhine provinces, trial by jury still exists, as
the code of Napoleon has not been there abcdished.
The second class of courts are called Oberlandesgerichte, or
courts of the second Instanz, or degree. They are estabUshed in
all the Prussian provinces, those of the Rhine and Posen excepted.
As a substitute for these, there is, for the former, a court of appeal
at Cologne ; and for the latter, the Landesgerichte of the second
degree. In these courts both civil and criminal processes are
issued. Here the clergy, aU those who hold civil and miUtary
offices and the nobility are tried, and have processes issued. The
peasantry and citizens, howe^'er, cannot sue and be sued, or be tried

COURTS OF PRUSSIA. 211
here. These courts, of which there are seventeen in Prussia, have
from eight to twenty Rathe, or counsellors, who officiate as judges.
At the head of the Ratlie is a President or , supreme Judge, who
receives from two to four thousand rix dollars ; and the Rathe from
eight hundred to a thousand, the salaries varying in the different
provinces. The third and inferior class of courts are called die Untern
GericJite. Here all causes are decided, except those in which
noblemen, clergymen, and those who hold offices under the go
vernment are parties. These courts, when they are held in the
towns, are called Stadtgerichte ; when in the country, Kreis or
Patrimonialgerichte. The corresponding courts in the Rhine
provinces and Posen, are called die Friedengerichte, or courts of
peace. They have each of them a president, with a salary of from
two to three thousand rix dollars, and a number of Justiz rathe, or
counsellors of justice, as assistant judges, who receive from eight
hundred to a thousand. I have stated thus particularly the salaries
of the judges of Prussia, that you may compare them with thoseof
our own. You will see that there is, at least one country, where
those who hold offices under government are not rewarded with
more liberality than in the United States. Since the reign of
Frederick the Great, economy has been the ruling principle of the
Prussian government, and it has operated vrith greater effect than
in any other country of Europe. By his system of economy,
Frederick was enabled to support, during most of his life, an army
of two hundred thousand men. To his foreign ministers, he allowed
but six thousand dollars, and there were few of them who were not
almost ruined, after a short residence at a foreign court; unless,
like most of those who are sent from our own country, they lived
in comparative retirement. The same system is still pursued.
The ministers of the king receive but nine thousand rix-doUars ;
his ambassadors at the larger courts but twelve thousand ; and, at
the smaller courts, a much smaller sum. In extending this system
of economy to her representatives at foreign courts, Prussia always
appears to the inhabitants of the European capitals as the country
of poverty ; and were it not, that her envoys derive some consola
tion, from seeing an equally rigid parsimony on the part of the
United States, they would scarcely be able to appear with bold

212 BERLIN.
faces at a ministerial dinner. If a "fellow-feeling makes us
wondrous kind" in diplomatic as well as in common life, there
must be a very strong attachment between the ambassadors of the
Prussian monarch and most of those from our own country.*
In 1820, there were issued from the courts in Prussia, with
the exception of those of the Rhine provinces and Posen, 345,811
civil processes. In this part of the kingdom there was, at that
time, a population of six or seven millions. In Bavaria, during
the year ending September, 1820, there were issued 82,145, to a
population of a little more than three and a half millions. From
this statement you will see that litigation is not confined to limited
monarchies or republics.
The courts of Prussia, as has been already observed, are all
held in (secret, except those of the provinces bordering the Rhine,
and the court of cassation in this city. This practice must appear
to every American, as a great violation of the rights of man, and
cannot fail to remind him of the tribunals of the inquisition, and
of the secret councils of the senate of Venice. No one, not even
the wife or parent of the individual accused, knows what is the
progress of the trial, or can even conjecture what wiU be the result
* The effect of this penurious, or more properly speaking, mean allowanee,
by Congress, to our diplomatic representatives, is felt by every American who
travels in Europe. In the eyes of a farmer west of the Alleghany, it salary of
nine thousand dollars seems like a royal income ; but when it is remembered,
that half this sum is necessary to pay for the rent of a mansion, suitable to a
minister in London or Paris, this " mountain of gold," sinks down at once. If
an envoy from the United States is to associate on terms of equality with those
of other nations, it is necessary that he should be provided with the means of
subsistence, instead of exposing him to daily mortification by this pitiful
economy. Our ministers are almost unknown in most of the capitals of
Europe, and when seen, they pass almost unobserved. The expenses of living
on the continent are nearly twice as great now as they were fift;y years since,
when with ahandsome debt, we felt able to give them the present compensaUon.
Our present minister at Paris, has made the station which he fills much
more respectable in the eyes of tho inhabitants of that city, tlian it has been at
any previous period during many years. Ho is tho only ambassador to
France for a long period, who has not been compellod to live in retirement.
The noble hospitality exhibited by him towards his countrymen, will long ba
remembered by all thoaa who have had the pleasure of visiting him.

COURTS OF PRUSSIA. 213
of the decision, until it is made known. It would certainly appear
to us, or to Englishmen, or to Frenchmen, as if great injustice
might be practised behind the curtain. Although the Prussians
are decidedly opposed to this secrecy, very many of them acknow
ledge that justice is administered in an equitable manner, and
believe that the government does not interfere in influencing the
decisions of the judges. Some of the lawyers even pride them
selves on the impartiality and rectitude of their judges, in which
respect they think them superior to those of all other countries.
So long, however, as the judges are dependent upon the govern
ment for their places, they must be possessed of stern integrity,
not to be biassed in favour of that power by which they are
elevated, and by which they can at any momerit be depressed.
This is greatly to be feared in a country like Prussia, where every
judicial trial is held in secret, and where nothing but the result is
made known. There are cases, however, both criminal and civil,
where the decisions are against the government, and which exhibit
an independence very honourable to the judiciary. The late
decisions in the trials of the students, who, a few years since, were
accused of forming treasonable conspiracies against, the govern
ment, and some of whom have been recently condemned to the
penitentiaries for a number of yearS, have excited not a little
indignation in this country, and have done more than any thing
else to make these secret courts unpopular. All that the govern
ment saw fit to disclose in these cases, was, that they wfere found
guilty of conspiring against it. We should think that the parents,
the brothers, and sisters of the unfortunate young men, had a right
to demand the proof of their guilt. This the Prussian government
did not deign to make known. It was asserted only, that they
were guilty; and, in consequence, the students were sent to linger
for six, eight, or ten years, in their respective prisons.
No country possesses more learned lawyers, in proportion to its
population, than Prussia. Before they are permitted to practice in
the lower courts, they are required to pass an examination, in which
they must appear to be very thoroughly acquainted with Roman
and German law ; and must, at the same time, write a Latin disser
tation on some subject connected with their profession. Several

214 BERLIN.
years afterwards they are examined a second time, when another
legal dissertation in Latin must be published and approved of, be
fore they can practice in the higher courts. In this respect we
shoiild do well to imitate them, but in no other. Heaven protect
us from judges who are daily dependent upon the will of the govern
ment for their sustenance, from secret trials, and from the abo
lition of our juries. The independence of the judiciary, the trial by
jury, and the publicity of proceedings in our courts, are the corner
stones of our freedom. Remove them, and we shall soon weep
over the ruin of our country's freedom.
Capital punishments are infiicted in Prussia for the crimes of
murder, treason, burning a house where life is destroyed, and for
commanding a band , of robbers. They are infficted in three dif
ferent ways. First, by decapitation, which is always done witk a
large sword, and secondly, by breaking upon the wheel. There are
two modes of inflicting this punishment. The first is called the
Upper, by whieh the head is broken first, and afterwards the breast
and limbs. This is much the least painful of the two, as death im
mediately takes place. The other is called the Under. The mode
here is to break the limbs first, and afterwards the breast and head.
The torture is thus prolonged, as if nothing but this refined- cruelty
were adequate satisfaction for the offence. How, in such a coun
try as Prussia, in the nineteenth century, so barbarous a punish
ment should exist — one which is worthy of Ibrahim Pacha or of the
inquisition only, I find it impossible to account for. If possible,
however, its barbarity is inferior to the third mode, which is burn
ing alive. This rarely takes place, but the law is still in existence,-
and few years since an instance occurred here. A man, and a
young woman of about twenty years of age, had been detected in
setting fire to a number ,of houses, by the conflagration of which
several persons were burned to death. At their execution, which
took place without the walls, a large heap of combustible materials
was collected, to the centre of which they were fastened, and the
torch was applied. With an indifl'erence which none but an Athe-
ist could exhibit, they met their fate, undaunted by the crowd of
spectators who witnessed their torments. The Prussians still jus
tify this barbarity, on the principle, that crimes of such enormity,
deserve a punishment similar to the character of the crime. Exe-

GOVERNMENT OF PRUSSIA. 215
cution by the guillotine, or even by hanging, barbarous as this
last mode is, is happiness to such torments as the criminal is
exposed to here, and which disgrace no part of the civilized world
except Prussia and Turkey.
The government of Prussia consists of three bodies, of which the
first is the ChanceUor of State. Under the king, he has the inspec
tion of every other branch of the government. In case of miscon
duct on the part of the ministers, he can suspend them from office,
with the approbation of the monarch. He is the President of the
Council, and has five departments under his immediate direction
and control. The second is the Ministry, properly so called, of
which there are eleven departments. The third is the Council of
State. Before this body every thing is brought relating to peace
and war, and the internal administration of the kingdom. To this
council the sons of the king belong, when they have arrived at
eighteen years of age. The Chancellor of State is the President
of the Council, which consists of the Ministry, and such other per
sons as the king is pleased to appoint.
Prussia is divided into ten departments or provinces. Each pro
vince is divided into three Regierungs bezirke, or districts, and
each district into from two to four Kreise or circuits.
At theJiead of each province is placed an Oberpr'dsident, or hi^h
president. The military, however, are not subject to his controU
He has the direction and control of the provincial assemblies, is
president of the consistory and medicinal college, is curator of the
university, and director of the affairs of the Catholic church in that
province. He is also president of the district in which the capital
is situated, but not of any others in the province.
Each district has a president at its head. Under its direction
are placed the police, the tax commissioners, the magistracy, &c.
He makes' his report to the president of the province, who makes
it to government.
Every circuit has a Landrath at its head. If, however, there are
large cities or towns within the circuit, they are governed by those
magistracy and police. The Landrath makes his report to the pre
sident of the district.
At the Congress of Vienna, the representatives from each of the
German states declared, in the face of heaven and earth, that those

816 BERLIN.
countries which formed the German Confederacy, should possess
a Constitution. A few of the monarchs have complied with their
promise. Prussia and Austria have not fulfiUed it, and probably
never wiU. As a species of substitute, Frederick William has given
to his subjects certain privileges, or rights, to which the name of
Landssldnde is given. These are provincial assemblies, consisting
of a certain number of members chosen by the cities and villages,
and supported, at their expense, during the session. They assem
ble at the capital of each province, and are ten in number, of which
the president of each is chosen by the government. Their deli.
berations are held in secret^ and nothing transpires except what
the ministers choose to have published. Stenographers are always
present, who write down the debates and the proceedings of the
assembly, which are sent to Berlin to be examined by the govem-
merjt. They meet once a year, each session continuing about six
weeks. They deliberate concerning the taxes, not whether they
shall be imposed or not, but in what manner they shall be collect
ed, on the commerce of the province, and on the minor regulations
of police. They have no voice in any thing. All their power con
sists in recommending certain measures within their limited bounds
of discussion. As their debates are held in secret, and as every
opinion that is advanced by any one of the members, is immedi
ately communicated to Berlin for the consideration of the govern
ment, they take pecuUar care to say nothing that will be offensive to
the monarch or his ministers. Some of the Prussians think that the
king intended the establishment of these assemblies as a fulfilment
of his promise ; and some of them, who have no definite idea of
freedom, declare that the king has complied, on his part, with the
declaration of the German powers at the Congress of Vienna. You
will perceive, at once, that this bears no more resemblsince to
a constitution, in Our sense of the word, than a fire-fly does to
the sun. I cannot believe that he intended it as such, as it would
imply a greater want of principle than ever his enemies lay to
his charge, and I have too much respect for his understanding to
suppose him capable of believing that a people, so enlightened as
the Prussians, would ever view it as a fulfilment of his promise. I
have never met with a Prussian, of any intelligence, who regarded
it as such, unless he held an office under government; and not

LANSBTaNDE. 217
even then, unless he was an aristocrat. The Prussians almost uni
versally say, when they are sufficiently acquainted with you to dis
miss their fears ; " he pr(wnised us freedom, but we have not
received it ; we restored him to his throne, and he has renewed
our slavery." Even most of those who hold offices under the mo
narch, feel that it is their duty or interest to praise him, and to
justify him for not keeping his word, on the poUtical grounds
referred to in a former letter.

29

218

LETTER Xni.

Berlin, May, 1826.
The clirtiate of Berlin is milder than that of New- York,
although Berlin is between 52* and 53°, and the former city but
41°, north latitude. We have had snow but once this winter, from
which we had only a few days of sleighing. From the middle of
October until the first of January, it rained almost every day. For
a fortnight afterwards the weather was so severe, that I found it
very difficult to warm my rooms, even with two Russian stoves.
The windows for a week were covered with so thick a frost, as to
render them almost impervious to vision. Since that time it has
been growing continually milder, and for the last three weeks, my
windows have been open several hours each day. The sun, how
ever, was shining upon us, and a stove at the same time was
emitting its caloric. This month is not as blustering as it is with
us, and thus far it has been as agreeable as April is in New York.
Some of the trees are now budding, but as April is usuaDy as cold,
and often colder than March, they will probably not put forth their
foliage until May.
The difference between the climate of Europe and our own
country is so great, as to excite the astonishment of every Ameri
can who visits this continent. At Paris, the latitude of which is
almost 49", there has not snow enough fallen since the commence
ment of the Revolution, to enable the inhabitants to make use of
their sleighs for two days in succession. This is not owing to a
cloudless sky, for during the winter the heavens are usually
obscured, and much of the time the clouds are discharging their
showers on the French metropolis. In the south of France,
between 44° and 45", the olive makes its appearance, and at
Marseilles, in latitude 43* 20 minutes, the gardens are adorned
with flowers during the winter months, while at Portland, the capital

CLIMATE OF EUROPE. 219
of Maine, which is in the same latitude, the thermometer of
Farenheit often sinks from ten to twenty degrees below cypher.
At Messina, in Sicily, latitude 38", frost is never known, and the
almond and other trees, are in blossom in January, while in New-
Orleans, latitude 80", snow falls almost every winter, and some
times to the depth of three or four inches.
As you proceed east into the interior of Europe, the cold
increases, and on reaching the heart of Germany, you find a greater
severity than in France, though inferior to that of the United
States. Continuing your course into Russia, you find the cold as
intense as in the same latitude in our country. Whence comes
this great difference between eastern Europe, and own country,
and western Europe 1 It is owing to a number of causes which
are principally confined to the European countries which border
the Atlantic. The first of these, and probably the most influential
of all, is the Sirocco wind. This wind, which comes from the
mountains of Kong, and the mountains of the Moon, sweeps over
the great Sahara fai its passage towards the north, passing over a
tract of burning sand of three thousand miles in length, by fifteen
hundred in breadth. The reflections from this mass of sand,
which is exposed so much of the year to a vertical sun, gives a
heat to the wind whTch passes over it, that is felt in no other part
of the world. As it sweeps over the desert, the heat continually
accumulates, until it reaches the Atlas chain of mountains, by
which it is somewhat cooled, but still it retains a large portion of
its caloric after it descends on the Barbary States and the Mediter
ranean. Even on its arrival in France, it is very warm, and as it
sweeps up the valley of the Rhone, it continually gives out its
heat, and as there is no chain of mountains to stop its progress, its
influence is felt even to the Channel.
The power of this wind is so great as to produce lassitude even
as far north as Florence, and at Palermo its effects are very
striking. In the latter city, in the month of February, I found it
sufficiently severe to produce a violent headache and debility. During
the summer it blows with such power, that the streets are almost
entirely deserted during the two or three days of its continuance,
and no person is visible except the miserable lazzaroni, who have
no home but the stfeets, and those whose occupations coihpel

220 BERLIN.
them to leave their houses. To guard against its effects, tile
inhabitants shut themselves in their houses, and spreading blankets
before the windows, continually wet them and the pavement of
their rooms, to counteract the parching qualities of this wind.*
The Sirocco sweeps along the Italian coast, and passing through
the openings and over the lower summits of the Appenines, dif
fuses itself over Italy, and reaches even the Alps. The great
altitude of that chain of mountains, presents an almost impassible
barrier to its progress northward, and when it climbs over the
Alpine summits of the Tyrol and Switzerland, it has become so
cooled by the immense masses of snow with which it comes in
contact, and by the cold air of the elevated region through which
it passes before it can descend upon Germany, that it loses every
particle of the caloric that it brought from Africa. It is owing to
this cause, as well as to the southern exposure, that Lombardy has
a mild climate, while that of the plain of Switzerland, Wiirtemberg,
and Bavaria, only two and three degrees north, is very severe.
As you proceed farther east, the climate is very sensibly affected
by this wind. The Ionian islands, and the southern part of
Turkey, which are exposed to its influence, enjoy a delightful
climate. The Balkan chain of mountains presents a boundary to
the Sirocco, and as soon as you pass over them into Bulgaria, you
find a climate comparatively severe. To this cause, as well as to
the northern exposure of that province is it owing, that the
Danube, in latitude 44", (where it is from one to two miles in
breath,) is frozen over sometimes as early as November, while the
coast of Sardinia, in the same latitude, is adorned with olive and
orange groves. The Taurus chain, which presents a barrier to
this vrind in Asia Minor, will explain the great difference between
the temperature of the coasts of Itchill and Adana, and that which
is washed by the Black Sea. You will thus perceive, that Europe
has on the south a mighty furnace, which is continually giving
out its heat to every pqrt of that continent which is exposed to
th6 southerly winds.

* This wind is so destitute Of moisture, that English furniture which is held
together by glue, usually falls to pieces in three years. American furniture, I
waa informed in Palermo, will resist the shrinking power oJ'this wind.

CLIM.VTE OF EUROPE. 221
Another cause of the mild temperature of France, when com
pared with eastern Europe, is the wind which blows; from the
Atlantic. The west wind of the European coast, cceteris paribus
would be of the same temperature as the easterly wind on our
coast. The temperature of the east wind is rendered milder by the
warmth of the Gulf stream, over which it passes. Though that
stream is not more than sixty miles in breadth, in the latitude of
New-York and Philadelphia, still it is so much warmer than the
surrounding water, that it must, from its proximity to our
coast, exert some influence in diminishing the severity of our
easterly winds. Europe, however,' in this respect, as well as in
her south wind, enjoys a great advantage over us. The African
desert extends from flve to six degrees farther west than Cape
St. Vincent, and the Sirocco meets with nothing in that extent of
longitude to interrupt it in its progress. The effect of this wind, in
moderating the temperature of the ocean, is very great, as every
one must perceive who compares the ocean winds of France and
Spain with those of our country. This, however, is not the only
cause ; there is another, which is, perhaps, more powerful. The
wind which blows from the ocean, and sweeps oyer a part of the
United States, is not during winter an easterly wind, but is usually
north-east, bringing with it the cold of the north, and the moisture
of the east wind. The wind, however, which usually blows from
the ocean on the coast of Europe, is not from the west, but a
south-west wind, the chilly moisture of the west wind being very
much softened by its union with the south wind. It is owing' to
the comparative mildness of this wind in-Frarice and Spain, that
cases of the consumption are so very rare, when compared with
*he Atlantic coast of the United States. It is true that a north-west
wind, during vrinter, sometimes blows from the Atlantic over the
coast of France and the Peninsula, but the south-west is much
more prevalent, if I mistake not in the ratio, of two or three to one,
while the reverse is true in reference. to our country.
There is another cause of the comparative mildness of Europe,
which though less visible, is probably no less influential, than those
already specified. I refer to the changes produced in a climate by
the efforts of man. The climate of Italy, in the time of the emperors,
was more severe than at the present time, and during the first

222 BERLIN.
and second centuries, the Tiber, which is now always open, was at
least sometimes frozen over. Soracte is not now white wth snow
oftener than once in ten years, while the inference we should draw
from the ode of Horace is, that this was of a frequent occurrence.
Germany, when invaded by the Romans, was intensely cold, pro
bably little less so than the cUmate of America. The transformation
of the north of Europe into a garden, has probahly effected this
change, and we may rationally conclude that the same causes will
produce the same effects upon our own climate. When our popula
tion shall have spread to the Pacific, and to the mouth of M'Kenzie's
river, and the immense forests, which now shelter the earth from
the influence of the sun, shall be levelled, as evaporation will
proceed with much greater rapidity, our winters will be much less
severe, and much shorter than at the present time. The westerly
wind and the north-west, during much of the winter, produce the
intense cold we now experience. Passing over our western
forests, they bring with them the cold air that rises from the
slowly dissolving snows which they shelter, and thus prolong our
winter. Our climate is even now milder than it was when our
ancestors arrived at Plymouth, and the succeeding century will
probably produce a much greater change in its favour than the
last. It would not, perhaps, be surprising, if it should bring with
it somewhat of that want of energy, which you find in most
southern climates, though a Protestant repubUc can never be
metamorphosed into Catholic Italy and Spain.
The influence of these forests is very visible in travelling in
Europe. As you proceed from Germany east, the cold continually
increases, and the isothermal line descends towards the south-
Russia is as much forested as many parts of our country, and the
cold is nearly as severe, and when you proceed to Asia, you find
in the forests of that country a severity of cold equal to that of the
United States.
There is a much greater difference in the temperature of places
in the same latitude in Europe, than in our own country. This is
often very visible in cities not remote from each other, even in
those which are less than a hundred miles distant. At Floi'ence,
snow falls annually, and often to the depth of several inches, while
at Pisa it does not fall oftener than once in eight or ten years.

climate of EUROPE. 223
The difference in this case, and in every other wliich I have
observed, is owing to local causes, which are more or less powerful.
Of these causes, mountains are the most influential on the tem
perature of cities and provinces, and sometimes even of countries.
This is strikingly apparent at Pisa, which in latitude almost 44°,
has a climate usually preferred to that of Naples three degrees
farther south. At Nice, which is in the latitude of Pisa, and along
the coast of Sardinia almost to Genoa, the orange, lemon, and
citron, grow with great luxuriance ; but after leaving Genoa and
travelling south, the orange does not appear, except in a few of
the gardens of Pisa, until you reach Terracina, the last town in
the Roman states. Along this coast the palm tree grows sponta
neously, and arrives to nearly-the same height as the palm of
Sicily. This is the only spot in Italy where the palm grows wild,
and from thence all the palm leaves are taken for the ceremonies
of Palm Sunday at Rome. The maritime Alps, which run nearly
paraUel with the coast, completely shelter it from the north winds ;
and as the mountains are very near the coast, the winds pass over
it and descend upon the Mediterranean.
The influence of mountains on temperature, is more apparent in
Spain than in any other country in Europe. The northern winds
of France and the Bay of Biscay, strike the Pyrenees and the San-
tillanos chains. The former chain is so elevated as to prove a
barrier to the wind, which, following^ that chain, sweeps in an
almost easterly direction into the Mediterranean. The altitude
and direction of this chain, is the prominent cause of the violence
of the wind in the gulf of Lyons, and on the eastern coast of Cor
sica. The wind which comes frqm the Bay of Biscay, soon meets
with the Santillanos chain, which though not very elevated, dimi
nishes its force. As it climbs these mountains and- passes over
Leon and old Castile, it meets the CastilUan chain ; and if not stop
ped by this, it soon meets with the Sierra of Toledo. The force
of most of the northern wipds is destroyed by these successive
chains, or else they receive a new direction. If, however, they
are powerful enough to surmount the last mentioned obstacle, they
then meet with the Sierra Morena; and before they reach the
coast of Granada, they must ascend the Sierra Nevada. The north
wind which blows at Malaga and Almeira, is consequently almost

224 BERLIN.
deprived oi its cold and of its force, and even in winter is like the
breeze of spring. Hence the climate of Granada in the winter, is
superior to any cif Europe, and much more efficacious in diseases
of the chest than that of Italy. The cUmate of Italy would equal
it, did the Appenines run east and west ; but running nearly south
east, and often being of moderate altitude, they do not prove a
barrier to the northern winds which sweep over most of Italy,
The violent changes which take place in the temperature of our
country, are owing to our mountains running in a northern and
southern direction. There is consequently free passage for the
winds from Hudson's Bay, and perhaps from the North Pole.
These sweep as far south as Cuba, with nothing to stop them, untU
they reach the Cuba chain of mountains, which running almost
east and west, proves a barrier to their pro'gress. As there is no
effectual check to these winds until they reach Cuba, the frosts
which every few years do so much injury to the coffee trees on
the northern side of that island, as low as latitude 23°, can easUy
be accounted for ; while at Messina, in latitude 38°, frost is un
known. The Alleghany mountains are not sufficiently lofty to stop
all the winds from the north ; but only those which are powerful
climb their summits ; while most of them follow the course of that
chain, and descend the valley of the Mississippi. As there is
here an uninterrupted passage, they descend to New-Orleans, bear
ing with them the cold of the northern parts of the United States.
From this cause snow falls occasionally at New-Orleans ; and very
rarely, if ever, at St. Mary's, which is one degree north of the
former city.
The German houses are the most comfortable I have seen in
Europe. Although in travelliug, you find as few, and perhaps
fewer carpets, than in the north of France, still their wooden
floors, cold and dreary as they would be in America, have here
very much the appearance of comfort, when the stove is sending
out its heat. The French, however, can boast of having the best
beds in the world, the ne plus ultra of recUning luxury. The
beds of Germany are absolutely detestable. The Germans all sleep
alone, and the beds are accordingly very narrow. Although more
than eight months have elapsed since my arrival in the country, I
have never seen a single bed large enough for two persons, and

tfERMAlfJ BEDS/ §26
nine out of ten are adapted to the reception of a traveller of
moderate dimensions. They sleep either on a bed or mattress*
over which a sheet is spread. The next sheet is a bag, formed
like a pillow case, within which a thick blanket is placed ; and
being spread out so as to fill it up, it is sewed to it to keep it in
trim. It is usually not more than five feet long, and two and a
half or three feet in breadth, corresponding exactly with the bed
or mattress. If is sO narrow, that it is absolutely impossible to
tuck it up. As I am unfortunately a foot longer than any of these
coverings, it is necessary for me always to splice it with blankets*
Such a covering answers very well for autumn, but is a poor
defence against even a German winter. As soon as the frost makes
its appearance, your landlady surprises you with another bed
which she carries into your room, and throws it upon the top of
yours, as a substitute for blankets. As this is never more thad
five feet long, all the sons of Anak, of the present generation,
must splice this also, or have a part of the body in the tropics
and the rest in a polar atmosphere. As it is impossible to move in
your sleep without the bed or the blankets rolling off, it is neces-"
sary to fasten them down with an additional covering large enough
to embrace them all. Completely to arrange your bed for repose
at night, (for the danger of every thing above you being thrown
off by the first motion is so great, that you are unwilling to trust
your servant, without ocular examination^) requires as much time
as was necessary some thirty months since, to tack about our good
ship, the Lewis, when beating against a head wind. In fact, there
is so little comfort here at night, that as midnight approaches,
you wish yourself in Paris, in Italy, or in the moon ; while, as
soon as you arise, the genial temperature of your room enables
you to forget all these evils. Thby tell a story of an Irishman
travelling some winters since in Germany, who seeing another bed
placed above his own, concluded that it must be the Custom here
to sleep in layers, one above another. As no one came, he rung
the bell, and directed the servant to tell the gentleman v^ho waa
to lie on top, that being very sleepy, he would thank him to come
soon to bed, as he did not like to be disturbed after he had falleiS
asleep; 30

226 BERLIN.
In the bill of mortality for the past year, the number of deaths
is stated at 6426, or somewhat over 123 weekly. If this is com
pared with the mortality of our cities, it will be found, if I mistake
not, much in our favour. Berlin now contains about 200,000 inha
bitants, not varying one or two thousand more or less. As our
seaports are the constant resort of strangers, the number of deaths
is probably increased some hundreds, which ought to be deducted
to put them on a just scale of measurement. Of the 6426 who
have died, 3222, or more than half, were under ten years of age.
Here we have greatly the advantage, as one half of the population
in the United States arrives to the age of twenty, and in our cities
to at least the age of fifteen. I cannot account for this mortality
among children. The climate is much less variable than with us,
and our extremes of temperature though sometimes almost equalled
here, are never surpassed. It may be partially owing to the
moisture of their winter and spring, and possibly to the fact that
houses are not so impervious to the air as those of our northern
cities. This last circumstance, judging at least by one's comfort,
seems to be more than counterbalanced by their stoves, which dif
fuse an equal temperature throughout the room. We have almost
universally carpets ; here they exist only in the houses of the rich.
Even with this comfort, and with the superiority of our houses,
the temperature of our rooms is not equally agreeable. The cause
of our less frequent mortality is probably found in our manner of
living. The poorer class of the inhabitants of our cities are better
clad than those of this town, and almost without exception have
sufficient /ood. Here the indigent are unable to procure meat
oftener than once or twice a week, and sometimes not once a
month. Though the expense of living here is less than at Paris,
in proportion to the price of labour it is twice as great as in our
own cities.
The diseases prevailing here generally correspond with those
found in the United States ; but they prcvaU in diflerent propor
tions. In Boston, one-fourth, and in some years almost one-third;
inNew-York, one-fifth; and in Philadelpliin, one-sixth, of the deaths
are of consumption. In this city there were but 416, or one in
fifteen and a half who died of that disease. This may be accounted

MORTALITY OF BERLIN. 227
for from the greater variableness of our climate, and the compara
tively small number of sudden and violent changes of the weather
in Prussia ; and probably still more from the fact that the Prussian
girls have more common sense in their toilette than those of our
cities, and rarely wear the dress of summer when the thermometer
is below the point of congelation.
Of cramp or spasms, {krampfen) 1091, or more than one-sixth
died. Of these 837 were under one, and only 68 over ten years
of age. This is a much greater proportion than with us.
Of dropsy, the deaths were 435 ; of whom 77 were of dropsy in
the head, and 101 of dropsy in the breast. This number, if I
mistake not, is several times as great as in our cities. There is
nothing in the German mode of living to produce this effect, except
the prodigious quantity of beer which they drink. This I have
no doubt has not a little influence.
Of schlagfiuss, apoplexy, and stickfluss, or croup, there were
558 deaths. There were 512 who died of debility and old age ¦
157 of feebleness soon after birth ; 75 by accident, of whom 27
were drowned in the Spree ; and 252 of teething.
Of wasting or consuming fevers, abzehrenden Fiebern, 1076
died; of nervous fevers, 164; of scarlet fever, 108; and of inflam
matory fevers, 473, of which 162 were on the lungs. Of child
bed and the fevers which succeeded, 47 died.
The remaining deaths were, of hooping cough 52; small pox 7
measles 60 ; quinsy 81 ; blustiirz, or hemorrhage 34 ; cancers 57 ;
of which forty-eight were women ; and suicide 47, ten women and
thirty-seven men, &c. &c. The deaths by suicide in 1824, were
57, or ten more than during the present year. Notwithstanding the
Schw'drmerey oi the Germans, this is not so great a proportion as
in Paris, and I believe a much smaller than in London. It is a sin
gular fact that the greatest number of suicides occurred during the
brilliant month of May. Nine terminated their existence during
this month, only one in February, and one in the gloomy month of
November. The Germans in this respect are the reverse of the
English ; for whom November is proverbially the month to hang,
shoot, and drown themselves.

228 BERLIN.
The following is a list of the deaths and births of Prussia during
fight years, from 1817 to 1824 inclusive.
Births. Deaths.
1817, 454,600  307,000
1818, 463,554  313,755
1819, 492,799  334,438
1820, 484,936  297,284
1821, 504,160  287,573
1822, 502,925 . . ,  314.513
1823, 498,643  , . . . 318,878
J824, 505,238  318,457
3,906,855 2,491,898
The number of births and deaths in France between 1817 and
J824 inclusive, was as follows.
Births. Deaths,
1817, 944,125  748,223
1818, 913,855  751,907
1819, 987,918  788,055
1820, 958,933  770,706
1821, 963,358  751,214
1822, 972,796  774,162
1823, 964,021  742,735
1824, 984.152 . . . . ,  763,606
Total, 7,689,158 6,090,608
From this statement, you will perceive that the number of births
in France in 8 years amounted to 7,689,168, During the same
time they amounted in Prussia to 3,906,868. France has a popu
lation of nearly thirty-two milUons, while that of Prussia in 1&25
amounted to 12,003,810. Prussia, with rather more than a third of
the population of France, had, during these eight years, more than
half as many births as the latter country. This great difference is
a striking exhibition of the comparative elevation of the lower class
es in this country.
From this statement it will appear, that during these eight years,
the number of births exceeded that of deaths 1,414,880, or they
were almost in the ratio of five to three. This, for a European
country, is a great excess, and for one labouring under such heavy

MORTALITY OF PRUSSIA. 229
taxes as Prussia, is a favourable exhibition of the industry of the
nation. Of the 2,491,978 deaths in this country during these eight years,
there were 7155 of suicide, almost 900 yearly, or about 29 in 10,000
deaths. Of the suicides in France during this period, I am igno
rant. There were, however, in the city of Paris, during these eight
years, from 1817 to 1824 inclusive, 2808, (vid. Berlinische Nach
richten.) From this statement, however, it is impossible to form
a comparison, as Paris being the metropolis of misery, as well as
of splendour, the proportional number of suicides is much greater
there than in the provinces.*
During these eight years, 37,633 died in Prussia of accidental
death, or 4704 annually. In every 10,000 deaths, those caused by
accident were 151. During this period, 18,061 died of the small
pox, principally in the provinces of Silesia and Posen. In every
10,000 deaths, 72 were of this disease. There were during these
years 123,958 born dead, or more than 15,000 yearly ; that is, in
every 10,000 deaths, 497. 35,608 were born where the mother
died ; or 4451 yearly, or 143 in 10,000 deaths. All unlucky deaths,
viz. those by accident, misfortune, violence, &.c. amounted to
222,440, or 22,805 yeariy, or in 10,000—892.
The number of births in BerUn during the year 1825, was 8033,
of which there were twins in 95 instances. The births exceeded
the deaths by 1607. The average number of daily births was 22 ;
of deaths 18. There were 502 births and 40 deaths more than in
the previous year. In 1825, there were 2126 couples married. In
1824, there were 1801 marriages, giving an excess of 325 in favour
of the last year. Of the 6426 deaths, 699, or about one-eleventh
were over seventy years. During this year, 331 were born dead,
that is one twenty-fourth of the births, and one-nineteenth of the
deaths were of this class. Among the legitimate births, one-twen
ty-sixth part were thus born, and among the illegitimate, one in ten.
The Sabbath is but little if any more observed here than in the
CathoUc capitals of Europe, It is true, that the churches are tolera
bly well filled in the morning, but the rest of the day is usually de-
* I have no account of the illegitimate births of Prussia during this period,
There were, however, born in France during the eight years, from 1817 to
1824, 272,040 boys, and ^9,144 girls, or a total of 531,184 illegitimate births,
ox one in every fourteen and one half births in all France was illegitimate.

230 BERLIN.
voted to visiting, exercise and amusement. Though these edifices
are rather larger, the assembUes are smaller than in our own cities,
and as there are less than forty of them with a population of two
hundred thousand, the public observation of this day in Berlin is
strongly contrasted with the same in American towns. In New-
York and Philadelphia, there is one church to fifteen hundred in
habitants ; here there is one to between five and six thousand. In
every part of Germany that I have seen, the Sabbath is not regarded
as holy in our acceptation of the term. Even the Orthodox party
do not view it as such, any longer than while they are in church.
All who have conversed vrith me, esteem it a Mosaic institution,
which ceased to be obligatory after the introduction of the Chris
tian dispensation. The only difference between the Sabbath and
other days is, that no newspapers appear on that day, and that the
shops are shut. The latter, however, is not generally necessary;
it results from the custom of devoting the day to recreation, rather
than from a belief in its sanctity. The laws, however, of many of
the cities, require that the shops should be closed during divine
service. For five-sixths of the population of northern Germany,
it is a mere day of amusement ; particularly for hunting the hare
and for shooting, among the higher classes ; for duelUng with the
students ; and for dancing and walking, in the summer, among the
lovfer class of citizens.
The morality of Berlin is far less pure than that of our own
cities. Infidelity, on the part of the husband or wife, is not a very
rare occurrence, either in the higher or lower classes. Although
it diminishes the reputation of the individual in the ejes of many,
it is not thought such an offence against public morals as to ex
clude the party from society. In this respect Berlin is decidedly
less immoral than Paris, or the cities of the south of Europe. Vice
is much less visible here than in most CathoUc cities; and although
it exists to a considerable extent, it is more necessary to draw a
veil over it. The viUages, so far as I can learn, are much more
moral than the towns, and Berlin is less so than the smaller
cities. AU large towns are corrupt, whenever they become so populous
that the conduct of each individual is necessarily unobserved, from
his being lost in the crowd. This is especiaUy true of European

MORALITY OF BERLIN. 231
capitals, where the influence of the court is perhaps without a
single exception deleterious to virtue. So accustomed are most
Europeans to look at the monarch as the centre of the system,
that whatever he does is not only considered right by the great
majority of his courtiers, but by not a small number of them it is
imitated. If he is a libertine, most of them will be immoral ; if
he is moral in his life, they are less immoral.
The capital exerts on the surrounding country the same influ
ence, as the monarch and his court on the metropolis. It is the
heart of the country, from which the extremities receive their laws
of opinion, and of fashion. In one word, it stamps its character
on every town whose citizens visit it, more or less distinctly, in
reference to the distance, and to the causes which increase or
counteract its influence. When the heart of a nation is corrupt,
the whole body is diseased : when it is pure, health will pervade
every member. A monarch, who sees that his example is the rule
of right in the eyes of most of his subjects, almost always finds
that the descent is easy, and the upward course intensely rugged.
He is usually under no restraint but that of conscience ; and
this is almost destroyed before he has reached his manhood, by
the influence of the examples of those around him. He is exposed
to temptations to which his subjects are strangers, and which he
finds it exceedingly difficult to resist. He gives law to every one,
but receives it from no one but God ; and this divine law, when
it is opposed by the almost universal scepticism of his courtiers,
he disbelieves, or at least disregards. The immoral influence of
monarchies, is in my opinion the most powerful argument against
this form of government. Of its extent, no inhabitant of our coun
try, who has not resided a long time in a Ir* ire European metro
polis, can form any idea.
The king of Prussia, who is a very moral man, has by his influ
ence very much improved the morality of his capital since he
ascended the throne ; and although his courtiers do not all show a
similar example, it may be said without hesitation, that his is the
least immoral among the great courts of Europe. The poorer
class of bourgeoises do not maintain a high reputation for virtue.
That class in every European city is the most corrupt ; as they
find without a sacrifice of their charms, that it is exceedingly dif-

232 BERLIK.
ficult to procure a subsistence, in towns where every article of
consumption pays an exTtravagant tax at the gates ; thus increasing
from one-third to one-half the sum necessary for their support.
With all the immorality of this class, I believe that Berlin is as
moral as any large metropolis of Europe, although it is in this
respect greatly inferior to the cities of the United States.
Although there is much vice in this city, there is also decidedly
more real religion, than in any other of the cities of the continent
which I have visited. The friends of the king endeavour to per
suade the public, that he as well as the crown prince are men of
piety. Were this the case, I think that Frederick William would
at least fulfil his promise of a constitution, made years since, to
the most faithful subjects, which any king ever had the happiness
to govern.
Among the laityi the proportion of religious men is decidedly
greater than among the clergy. This is peculiarly true of the
royal guard which is quartered here, many of the officers of which
body are said to not only lead exemplary lives, but to exhibit that
ardent love to Christ, and to mankind, which he has informed us
, is the test of discipleship. I know of no army, where there are
so many religious men among its officers as in that of Frederick
William, and probably few have ever existed where the propor
tion was equally great.

233

LETTER XrV. Berlin, 1826.
It is the ardent wish of very many of the Germans, to see this
country united into one great empire, as its local situation has
made it for centuries the great battle ground of Europe. Its in
habitants havfe been so frequently compelled to support foreign
armies, have so often seen their villages and cities in flames and
their soil covered with the dead and the dying, that they have be
come fully satisfied with the " pomp and circumstance of glorious
war." With the exception of Austria and Prussia, every con
test which" takes place is dreaded by the small states of Ger
many. They are so feeble as to have no voice in the question ;
their only course is submission or destruction. Like the dwarf in
the fable, they receive all the blows, and when victory crowns
their efforts, the giants divide all the profits between themselves ;
leaving these Uttle states the satisfaction of having fought like
heroes, and the pleasure of realizing that suffering is often the
only attendant upon true valour. Every such war, by increasing
the power of Austria and Prussia, makes those countries so much
the more to be dreaded by the small states which lie near them ;
and strange as it may seem, victory to the latter is almost always
a [preparation for slavery, or an augmentation of it if already
existing. Were the thirty-two millions of Germans who now inhabit this
country, to become one people, they would preaent such a barrier
to the ambition of France on the one side, and to that of Russia
on the other, that neither power would be willing to attack them.
Were they thus united, they could jjtevent these great powers
from approaching each other, e-j.jept on the ocean, where it
would be almost impossible for them to carry on a war that would
ultimately become general in Europe. They could not meet in
Lombardy, as such a union would prevent the Czar from approach-
31

234 BERLIN.
ing within many hundred miles of Venice, however disposed the
Hungarians might be in his favour. Most of the subsequent com
bats could then be fought in Flanders, in Italy, and in Spain.
If we look at the history of Europe, during the three last centuries,
how large a portion of all the battles has taken place in this un
happy country ! How extensively have they grown out of its unfor
tunate division into a great number of small dukedoms and king
doms, most of them insignificant in themselves, but if united, pos
sessing a force and resources equal to those of any country on
earth. The reasons why many of the Germans are so desirous of this
union, are the wish to see Germany take that rank among the nations
of the earth which it merits, and for which nature has designed it,
as well as the powerful excitement which such a union would give
to the nations at large. From the Baltic to the Adriatic, from the
Rhine almost to the Vistula,* this country forms but one compact
kingdom, through which the German language is universally spo
ken, except in some of the villages of Bohemia. t It has the North
ern Ocean and the Baltic on the north, and the Adriatic washing a
part of its southern boundary, forming an extent of sea coast of
nearly one thousand miles. If united into one country, it would
soon become a formidable maritime power, as the enthusiasm thus
awakened would transform even the Germans into seamen, and il
not equal, they would probably be Uttle inferior to the Swedes.
With these two great seas bounding it, its commerce would be
greatly extended, and, in time, surpass that of any other country
on the continent. The Weser, the Elbe, the Oder, and the Vistula,
on the north ; the Rhine, on the west ; and the Danube and iU
branches, on the south, would become the great avenues of trans
portation. The country would soon be intersected by canals, and
the busy hum of commerce be heard in many a city which is now
almost Ufeless. The Germans would, in a short time, assume a
unity of character, and make themselves respected and feared
throughout Europe.
* Prussia on the Baltic extends far beyond llie Vistula, but it is only a very
small tract, the loss of which would not bo felt by such a nation.
t In all tho cities, and in some of tlie small tomis of Bohemia, German is
spoken. In the villages the Bohemian language, a dialect of the Sclavonic, is
the only one known.

UNION OF GERMANY. 235
The union of this country into one nation is, however, an almost
hopeless event. It has so long been divided into a great number
of petty duchies, electorates, and kingdoms, that every thing like
nationality of feeling has ceased to exist. It seems to be the object
of the governments that direct the concerns of these states, to
destroy every thing like unity of character, since, were such a
character to become general, the bases on which they rest would be
undermined. To accomplish this, they very extensively impose such
heavy duties on the articles manufactured in the neighbouring
states, as almost to destroy commerce with each other. The
manufactures of every duchy or electorate are almost entirely con
fined to its own territory, for the amount sent out of Germany to
foreign countries is so small, as hardly to afford an exception to
this remark. Even in the larger kingdoms, foreign commerce is
pursued with very little ardour, as the government are alarmed lest
the balance of trade should be against them, and still more from
fears of the poUtical light which their subjects might acquire by
a commercial intercourse with countries which are free. They
measure their resour(;es by what they are, not by what they might
be, were the spirit of the nation roused to exertion. The price of
corn here is not a third what it is in England, and still the English
fabrics have expelled their manufactures from almost every foreign
market ; and would even from their own, were they admitted to
cross their boundaries. Such a policy produces an almost univer
sal paralysis, and no efforts are made but those which are on so
limited a scale as to require this prohibitory system to enable them
to succeed. The great rivers which traverse this Country, are
almost hermetically sealed at the boundaries of each government,
to those above and below them, so that they become of Very little
value to the states through which they run. This policy is pursued
partly from retaliation, and partly from the fear that any thing which
should excite national enterprise, would undermine the present statu
quo system ; a system which the governments of Germany believe
indispensable to the maintenance of public order. In this city, of
two hundred thousand inhabitants, you find, accordingly, an infini
tude of shopkeepers, but a very limited number of merchants. This
will not a little surprise you, as there is a free communication from
the Spree to the Elbe, and by means of canals to the Baltic. As

836 BERLIN.
there are so few merchants, in the EngUsh sense of the word, the
profession is not much respected. To hold the office of lieutenant
in the army, or even to be a clerk in one of the police offices, is
esteemed a more respectable employment by the majority of the
the nation. Although these restrictions furnish a most powerful
argument for the union of Germany, you will easily see that the
difficulties to be surmounted which these governments occasion, are
too great, to lead the most sanguine German to anticipate even a
distant accomplishment of his wishes.
There is another obstacle more difficult to be removed than the
one just mentioned : it is found in the great number of duchies,
electorates, and kingdoms. Of these there are at least thirty which
have their courts ; and more than twenty that have their depart
ments of war, of finance, of the interior, which are subdivided into
numberless ramifications of secretaries, clerks, &c. Many of the
monarchs have not as much territory as several of our large coun
ties, and some of them less than half a dozen of our townships.
They are, however, proud in proportion to their poverty, and out
of the sweat of their subjects they contrive to procure the means
of apeing the sovereigns whose territories surpass their own in
extent and resources. To unite Germany into one country, you
must destroy the authority of between thirty and forty dukes,
electors, (fee. to many of whom their subjects are attached, as well
as the governments which have so long directed the affairs of those
large and small territories. But this is not all. Here are more
than thirty capitals, with palaces, public edifices, and national thea
tres. As most of them have little or no commerce, it is merely
from their courts that they derive their importance. These towns
must be, in a great measure, annihilated by such a union. Even if
this were done, the next question is to select a new capital. It
cannot be Berlin, it is too far north, while Vienna is not only too
far south, but too near the eastern frontier of Germany. Where
shall it be ? This question the Germans would find it almost impos
sible to settle, were it to be seriously agitated. Besides the national
debts of the different German states bears no relative proportion to
their population. Brunswick, for instance, with two hundred and
twenty thousand inhabitants, has a debt of seven millions of guldens:
that of Saxe Gotha, with a population about equal to it, is but three

UNIOU OF PERMANY. 237
millions. The Hanse towns, with less than two hundred and seventy-
four thousand inhabitants, have a debt of twenty-one million, while
six of the smaller states, with twenty-six thousand inhabitants, owe
less than one and a half million. Hesse, with a population of six
hundred thousand, has a national debt of twelve and a half millions;
while Kurhesse, or Hesse Cassel, which is scarcely inferior to it in
population, owes less than one-third that sum. To unite these dis
proportionate sums into one general debt, would be an obstacle very
difficult to overcome, without creating very great dissatisfaction.
The difference of creed presents another impediment not easily
surmounted. Northern Germany is Protestant, while soutjiern
Germany is Catholic. The former in literature is enlightened, the
latter is comparatively in the shade. The ignorance and supersti
tion of the Austrians and Bavarians, are despised and ridiculedby the
Germans north of the Mayne, while the heresy of the latter is equally
odious to their southern brethren. The thirty years' war which was
kindled to extend the conquests of Austria, and to annihilate Protes
tantism, raged so long in the northern part of this country, as to
destroy a large proportion of its resources. It was marked with such
horrible exhibitions of cruelty and rapine, that they have never
forgiven their southern neighbours for this wanton sacrifice of their
fairest hopes. Since that period, they have ceased to, regard the
Austrians as brethren. They now blend with the feeling of hostility
that of contempt, and when they speak of the Emperor's sub
jects, you usually discover a sneer. They laugh at their dul-
ness and easy digestion, as much as the Athenians did at their
equally physical neighbours, the Boeotians. They speak of them
as slaves, and as being unworthy of the name of Germans ; as slaves
both mentally and physically. Though there is very littie at the
north to remind an American of liberty, the Protestants feel as if
they were comparatively free, so long as their minds are not sub
jected to- the priesthood. Even the Prussians speak of Austrian
tyranny, as if they themselves inhaled the pure breath of freedom.
The Germans of the north call them les autres chiens, or " the oth
er dogs" ; from the resemblance to les Autrichiens, the French
word for Austrians. The latter content themselves with looking
at their fine soil, and eating and drinking its productions, contrast
ing it with the sandy plains of the north, whose heretical inhabit-

238 BERLIN.
ants they believe will find in the future world, a more painful lot,
than even the cultivation of their barren fields.
There are but two points in which the north and south can unite.
The first is their language. Even here the union is but partial.
The southern Germans are ridiculed by their northern brethren
for their barbarous pronunciation, which grates upon their ears
with a harsher discord than even that of the Tuscaroras, or those
of the neighboring tribes of savages.* An Austrian betrays him
self in the first sentence by his harsh utterance, which, when con
trasted with that of Hanover or Saxony, is very disagreeable even
to a foreigner.
The literature of Germany, however, is common groimd, where
they all assemble. Every intelligent inhabitant of this country,
whether from the Rhine, the Baltic, the Vistula or the Danube,
boasts of Goethe, Schiller, Wieland, Lessing, &c. as the classic
writers of Germany, and feels like the tribe of Judah in relation to
David, that they belong peculiarly to him. On this theatre of
conversation, sectional feelings vanish, at least to a considerable
decree. They pride hemselves also in the number and extent of
their universities, and the fertility of their literary press. As most
of the works published at the great fair at Leipzig are written, and
as most of the distinguished universities and professors are situated
north of the Mayne, you soon discover, however, in the northern
Germans the consciousness of their relative superiority when speak
ing of their national literature. These are the only respects in
which any thing like national feeling exists ; but these are so
feeble in their influence, as hardly to keep alive the hope, that this
country will ever form but a single nation. Until this takes place,
Germany must continue to be in time of war the great battle ground
of Europe, and much of her resources will be consumed in sup
porting foreign armies. Then those states which border on France,
must from fear unite with her ; while those near Austria or Prus
sia, will, from necessity, embrace the cause of those countries.
During peace, the small states will be ruled by these two great
powers, and be compelled to pursue those measures, which may be
* TJie Indiaiis who lived near that tribe were accustomed to say, that "Uie
Tuscaroras talked like great white man's wagon going down stony hill."

METTERNICH. 239
thought most conducive to the prosperity of Austria and Prussia.
The prospects of the smaller states of Germany, at the present
time are far from being flattering. Should the present statu quo
system remain, they will, with the enjoyment of peace, not only be
dictated to by the Holy Alliance, but by Austria and Prussia also.
If, however, that Alliance should dissolve, so many new interests
will arise, that it will be impossible to conjecture wliat maybe the
fate of these little states. Prince ^Metternich, by his wonderful
talent in exciting fear, has thus far controlled the cabinets of Eu
rope, and has exerted an influence over the destinies of nations,
little if any inferior to that of Napoleon. He persuaded the Em
peror Francis and Frederick WilUam, not to fulfil the promise they
made to their German subjects of giving them constitutions, and
he has prevented Alexander, during the Grecian struggle, from ren»
dering the Greeks that assistance which his army and nation de
manded. Through his influence and that of Russia, Louis XVIII,
contrary to his wishes, sent the Duke d'Angouleme with an army of
100,000 men into Spain, and crushed liberty in its cradle. "When
SicUy, Naples and Genoa, in 1820 and 1821 threw off the galling
yoke of slavery, Metternich sent his thirty thousand Austrian bayo
nets into Italy, and re-established despotism.
Greece has had most abundant cause to mourn on account of
the wide spread influence of this great enemy of the human race.
The expeditions sent from Alexandria to the Morea, were princi
pally composed of Austrian vessels, and although protected by
Egyptian and Turkish ships of war, it was the vessels of Trieste
which carried not only the soldiers, but most of the materiel oi
war. Since Ibrahim Pacha has been in the Morea, Austrian ships
have supplied his army with provisions, and without their assis
tance, they would long since have been compelled to abandon that
peninsula. That afflicted people now heap curses upon the head
of Metternich, and wish that " darkness might cover the day of his
birth, that it might not be numbered among the days of the year."
Italy has no stronger affection- for Austria than Greece. The
kingdom of the two Sicilies has had to support thirty thousand
Austrian troops, which have been there quartered upon them during
the last five years, and its resources are now so exhausted, that it is
yielding to its fate without a murmur. The Austrian court is so

340 BERLIN.
intimately allied with that of Naples, for Francis of Naples, and
Francis of Austria, are both grandsons, of Maria Theresa, that
years will perhaps roll away before the two SiciUes wiU be free
from the deadly embrace of Metternich.* The grand duke Leopold
of Tuscany, is the nephew of the emperor of Austria, the grand
duchess of Parma is his daughter, and the grand duchess of Massa
is allied to him by marriage. Sardinia is not so nearly allied, still
its queen is a cousin, of the Austrian emperor, and the king,
dreading the power of France, has garrisoned several of his
fortresses with Austrian soldiers. More than four million Lom
bards, ever since the Congress of Vienna, have been compelled to
acknowledge the emperor Francis as their master, and to wither
under the iron grasp of Metternich. Nothing of Italy remains but
the Papal States, and the " glorious republic of San Marino." The
overwhelming power of Austria in Italy, makes the court of Rome
yield to Austrian influence ; and, although Metternich did not
succeed in placing his emissary in the papal chair, in the election
in 1823, there is reason to fear that he will succeed in the next
struggle, which cannot be far distant, as Leo XII. is not only
advanced in years, but is very infirm. The republic of' San
Marino, with its seven thousand inhabitants, is the only power in
Italy which can boast of its independence ; but, as she has retained
her freedom during more than three centuries, by yielding to every
* Prince Metternich is regarded by the Liberals of Europe, as the greatest
enciny of the human race who has lived for ages. You rarely hear his name
mentioned, without exciting indignation, not only in the speaker, but in the
auditors. Napoleon's ambition covered Europe with desolation ; but, as he
fought merely for the purpose of extending his territory, his system fell with
him. Metternich, on the other hand, has not been attacking men, bat
principles, and has done so much towards destroying on the continent those
great political truths, which nations have acquired through ages of efiFort
and suffering, that there is reason to fear, should his system continue for
half a century, that liberty will forsake the continent, to revisit it no more.
The Saxons, who are peculiarly exposed to Metternich's embrace, Uterally
abhor the prince. The German word Mitternacht means midnight. From
the resemblance of the word to Metternich, as well as from his efforts to cover
Europe with political darkness, the Saxons, when speaking of him, call him
prince Milternacht.

AUSTRIAN, INFLUENCE. 241
political breeze, she will of course acquiesce in every measure of
the court of Vienna.
Though at the German Diet, Austria has a rivalin Prussia, she
is still much more dreaded than the latter country, not only
on account of her power, but also still moro on account of her
influence, which now covers most of continental Europe with its
darkness. Unfortunately for the smaller states, Metternich has
had such an influence over- the court of Berlin,* that they haYe
long acted in unison, and the little kingdoms, duchies, and elector
ates of Germany, have enjoyed only the natne of independence,
and have yielded to every threat. The death of Alexander, in the
opinion of many of the Prussians, has dispelled this Austrian charm
over Germany. The present empress of Russia is the daughter
of Frederick William, and it is believed the courts of Berlin and
Petersburg have, since the death of Alexander, not only lost their
animosity, but formed ah alliance, which promises to endure for
some time to come. Should this union continue, Prussia will form
a rallying point for all the smaller states north of Bohemia, and of
the Mayne, and enable them to recover from the upas influence of
Austria. From the facts stated above, you will see the impossibility of
uniting Germany into one country. It may, however, be united
into two, and nature seems to have marked out natural botindaries
for two great kingdoms. The Mayne, the Erzgebirge, and the
Riesengebirge, would present a Une of separation, which Prussia
and Austria might consider as a fair division. Though in such a
division, Austria would receive the largest portion, yet so desirous
is Prussia to extend her territory on the west of the Elbe, for the
sake of uniting Western with eastern Prussia, that she would
willingly see Austria take Bavaria, Wiirtemberg, and Baden,
provided she were allowed to add Saxony, Hanover, and the
* Count Bernstorff, the minister for foreign affairs in Prussia, is believed
by the inhabitants of the metropolis, to be to such an extent under Austrian
influence, that on every question not interfering with the prosperity of Prussia,
he coincides with the views of Metternich. That this opinion is well founded,
no one will doubt, who reads the history of Prussian politics since the death
of count Hardenberg. He is the son of the celebrateil Danish minister, count
Bernstorff, who died about the end of the last century.
32

242 BERLIN. •
smaller states, north of the Mayne, to her territory. She would
thus become a first-rate power, and then she would dread neither
the attacks of France nor of Austria. Such a division cannot be
made in a time of peace ; but should France become impoverished
by a long war with Spain or England, and Russia either be placed
in a similar situation, or be bribed with a slice of Hungary, or of
Austrian Poland, it might be effected as easily as the division of
Poland was accomplished. In some points of view, such a division
is to be deprecated, especially by the states south of the Majoie;
but the happiness of those of the north would certainly be increased
by such a change, should Prussia ever acquire the freedom of the
press, and a representative government.

243

LETTER XV.

Berlin, 1826.

I HAVE made so many remarks respecting the universities of
Germany, that you would not excuse me were I to omit giving you
a sketch of the means of education provided for the great mass of
the people, in the common schools. In this respect, as well as in
her uni<rersities, Prussia is one of the most enUghtened nations in
Europe ; indeed second only to Saxony, unless the southern part
of Scotland is an exception. The Rhine provinces have been
united to Prussia for so short a time, that their population has not
yet begun to exhibit the same intellectual cultivation as the centre
of the kingdom ; still so broad is the foundation which has been
laid for their improvement, that there is reasOn to hope, that they
will, in the course of a few years, be little, if any inferior to their
western brethren.
Prussian Poland, is in education, much inferior to the western
part of Prussia. That "ignorance is the mother Of devotion,"
has been as fully believed by her priests, as by those of It-aly.
With the exception of that part of Poland near the Baltic, little
had been done to raise the character of the people, before the first
division of that kingdom. Frederick the Great was too much
occupied with war and belles-lettres to find time for the mental
improvement of the great body of his subjects ; while his successor,
Frederick William the second, was too intent upon pleasure to do
any thing for Prussian Poland. It remained for the present
sovereign to provide the means of instruction for his Polish sub
jects, and to reorganise the schools of that part of his kingdom.
Although they are much inferior to those of the old provinces,
they are rapidly improving, and there is reason to anticipate a
speedy mental renovation among a part at least of that unfortunate
people.

244 BERLIN.
The remarks that will now be made respecting the schools of
this country, apply peculiarly to central Prussia, or to that part of
the kingdom which excludes the provinces on the Rhine, and
Prussian Poland. Perhaps Silesia also should be excluded, as when
it was conquered by Frederick the Great, it was marked by that
ignorance which is so characteristic of most parts of the Austrian
dominions ;, and although it has long been united to Prussia, it
has made much less progress in education than the rest of the
kingdom. It is an interesting subject to every traveller in Europe, to observe .
the difference which exists in the respective means of education
in Protestant and Catholic countries. This is most clearly visible
in Gertoany. In the Protestant states of the north, most of the
peasantry can read and write, while in Austria and Bavaria the
proportion is very small. Wiirtemberg which touches Bavaria,
has a comparatively enlightened peasantry. When you travel
through Switzerland, you can easily discover by the relative
neatness of the villages and the prosperity of the people, as well as
by their intelligence, wliether you are in a Catholic or Protestant
canton. Travel through Saxony, and you will not discover a
child of ten years old, who has not acquired the rudiments of
education; but cross the Bohemian boundary, and you will soon
perceive that the peasantry are comparatively ignorant. In France
after minute inquiries in every part of the kingdom which I
visited, I learned that of the adults among the Catholic peasantry,
a large proportion of them could neither read nor write ; while
among the Protestants, almost every child was instructed.
Far be, it from me to imply that Catholic countries have not
done much, very much, to promote the cause of Uterature. The
efforts of Leo X. to revive the spirit of learning in Italy, exalt him,
notwithstanding his anathemas against the Protestants, above the
great mass of monarchs, who have embraced the religion of the
Reformers. The patronage afforded by his father, Lorenzo de
Medici, to letters and the fine arts, will be remembered with
gratitude by students, when Florence shall be no more.
The great difference, however, between Protestant and Catholic
countries, cdnsists not in the number of scholars and artists who
have been patronised, but in the foundation which has been laid

SCHOOLS OF PRUSSIA. 248
for instructing the great mass of the people. Comparei the Pro
testant countries- of Europe, England, Denmark, Sweden, SaxOny,
and Prussia, for example, with Italy, Spaih, and Portugal, or even
with France. Look at Holland, and then at the Netherlands ; at
Protestant and Catholic Ireland. Look above all at the United
States of America, and contrast it with Mexico and the republics
of the South. "W^hence comes this mighty difference in European
nations, which a few centuries since were all equally superstitious,
and equally degraded 1 Why has Italy, for a long period ¦ the
lamp of Europe, always had a peasantry ^ but little superior in
knowledge to the animals of her soil? Why are the common
people of the Roman states, at this day, among the most ignorant
and. degraded of Europe ? There the wealth and power of the
Catholic Church has centered ; nations for ages have brought
thither their tribute ; and still her peasantry have always been
ignorant and debased. It does not result from the want of means
on the part of the government. The money expended in the
festivals of Rome for several centuries, woul(l have provided all
the people during that period with adequate means of instruction.
The difference is found in the principles of Catholics and Protest
ants. - The Reformers saw that an ignorant people were easily
reduced to mere machines ; that the only mode of securing tO them
their proper character, was by providing adequate means of
instruction ; and that without this instruction, the victory which
they had gained would soon be lost. In every Protestant country,
these means were accordingly provided by them, or by their
successors, and the inhabitants of these countries have been the only
nations, the great mass of which have been taught to read and
write. It is on this elevated ground that the Protestant takes his
stand ; it is here that he feels an emotion of triumph swell his
bosom, when he looks to what the Reformation has done to benefit
the human race. He here beholds in a most striking, manner, the
difference between nations who receive their creed from com
pulsion or from conviction. It is after such a comparison, or
rather contrast, that he places the Reformers among the illustrious
benefactors of mankind.
The elementary schools of Prussia are entirely under the direcr
tion of the government. No one is allowed to act as an instructor

246 BERLIN.
in them, without a previous examination, and-a written permission
from the committee of examination. At the present time there
are more than twenty thousand of these schools in the kingdom,
of which seventeen thousand are in the villages, and the remainder
in the towns. For the preparatory education of these instructers,
one or more seminaries are established in every province, and
are supported by the government. The object in forming these
institutions, was to introduce a uniform system of instruction
throughout the kingdom, as weU as to prevent any person who
was not qualified, from attempting to teach the peasantry. To
these seminaries all those who wish to become instructers in the
elementary schools are required to repair, where they are taught
every thing necessary for their future station. Here they remain
from two to three years, the time being regulated by their
capacity, and their qualifications at the period when they, com
menced their course. They study, at these seminaries, geography,
arithmetic, the German language, and the Bible. Here also they
are taught the best modes of educating, and of governing children,
as Well as the subjects they are to teach. After they have finished
their course at the seminaries, they are examined, and if found
qualified, they receive a certificate to this effect. This paper, with
a certificate of their baptism and moral character, which is signed
by the pastor of the church they formerly attended, is presented
to the government, or to its agents, who immediately enter their
names on the list of instructers. By the estabUshment of these
institutions, a uniform mode of instruction, has been introduced
throughout Prussia.
The population of the United States is. generally so intelligent,
that many of the instructers of our elementary schools, are
sufficiently well informed to teach Uie rudiments of education.
There is, however, with us no systematic mode of instruction ;
and, in many instances, there is a great ignorance of the best mode
of communicating knowledge to the minds of children. To under
stand a subject, will not of itself enable one to impart a clear view
of it to others. This capacity can only be acquired by previous
preparation, or by long experience. Few even of those who have
been in the habit of instructing children for years, have that inti
mate and extensive knowledge of the subjects they teach, which is

SCHOOLS OF I'RUSSIA. 247
necessary for an instructer, whose object is to expand the mind of
the child, and to excite his enthusiasm. Emulation doubtless
exists to some extent in our schools, but it results principally
from the desire of receiving marlis of approbation, and from the
little presents which are distributed to the youth. This, unques
tionably, exerts somewhat of an auspicious influence, but it ceases
as soon as the child leaves his school.
The great object of all instruction is to excite a thirst for know
ledge, one which neither time nor distance can extinguish. It is
not enough to impress certain facts on his mind, such, for instance,
as are found in all our geographies, relative to the form, population,
extent, &c. of the different countries of the world : there should
be a constant endeavour to excite that curiosity which will prompt
him to make subsequent inquiries for himself, to procure an amount
of knowledge concerning the commerce, statistics, power, and com
parative resources of nations, from which he will be always able to
derive a fund of thoughts and arguments. He should be made a
thinking, reflecting being ; one who can discern the shadow, and
not mistake it for the reality; one who can judge correctly on the
great concerns of life, and who is not governed by others. The
great difference between the southern peasantry of Europe and
our farmers, is this, the one class are a mere machine, the other
are a reflecting people. But, although the latter class are intelli
gent, they are below that point to which they ,might easily be
elevated, were our common schools to assume the high character
they would soon exhibit, if they were intrusted only to men of
superior intelligence.
It is as necessary to educate an individual who designs to in
struct others, as to educate a professor for his chair, or a general
or commodore for military or naval command. Without such pre
paration, the instructer will be almost as unqualified to communi
cate knowledge, as a corporal would.be to lead a division into ac
tion. In many of our states, we have large funds, the interest of
which is appropriated to the maintenance of elementary schools.
In Connecticut, this fund will soon be more than sufficient to pro
vide the necessary means of instruction for all the youth of the
state. , Were the surplus to be applied to the support of a Seminary
for the education of schoolmasters, the happiest results would soon

248 BERLIN.
be perceived. In such an institution, the young men would not
only learn every thing connected with the usual subjects taught in
our elementary schools, but might easily acquire that knowledge
of theoretical agriculture, mineralogy, botany, statistics, and po
litical economy, which would enable them greatly to enlarge the
boundaries of knowledge in the villages where they reside. Per
sons thus instructed would easily become the prominent men of the
villages where they resided. They would be enabled to direct the
minds of not a small number of the villagers, as well as of their
pupils, to subjects which would othervrise never have arrested their
attention. Were such schoolmasters provided for the education of the
youth of Connecticut, the intellectual character of the mass of the
inhabitants would, in one generation, not only become superior to
that of every other people, but it would become the wonder and
admiration of our country. To support such a Seminary,* and to
provide it with the necessary materiel oi literature, would not cost
more than ten thousand dollars annually. Is it not desirable, at
least, to try the experiment ? How can we, for so limited a sum,
accomplish an equal amount of good ? Are not the minds and char
acter of the rising generation, worth this trifling expenditure?
Shall we always walk in the beaten track of our fathers, when
prospects so bright anr' so glorious are opening to our view?
B.y the improvement of our common schools, those of a higher
character would soon improve, and resemble at least, in some de
gree, the classical schools in Europe. This advancement would
exert a most auspicious influence on the colleges of our state, and
the inhabitants would acquire a character, superior to those of any
* In the university of Leipzig, and perhaps in some others of Germany, lec
tures are delivered on education, in which tlie professor gives a historical
view of the state of education in ancient and modern times, and examines all
the important systems that have been formed upon tliis subject. In such a
seminary as I have proposed, lectures of this kind, as well as those above re
ferred to, should be given, and after a residence there of tliree or four years,
young men would be qualified to instruct tho great mass of the people, in
such a manner, as to elevate tho next generation far above the station filled
by their fathers, Young men thus educated, would bo certain of success, and
by them every important vacancy would be filled.

SCHOOLS OF PRUSSIA. 249
province in the civilized world. Connecticut is too small in terri
tory to exert much influence in our national councils. Many of the
small states of Germany are almost invisible, when glancing your
eye at the map of Europe, and like them, Connecticut is barely
seen in a general survey. of the map of the United" States. Like
them, however, Connecticut may rise to an intellectual elevation
which shall excite the envy of those great states, which now sur
pass her so much in population and resources. There is no other
way for her to exert an' influeri'ce over the union. If she does not
pursue this course, if she (Joes not maintain her comparativc'lite-
rary eminence, she will soon cease to attract attention, and she
will, ere long be unobserved, unless to contrast the spirit Of her
children, with that love of excelling, for which their fathers were
so much distinguished.* On the other hand, if she greatly enlarges
the means of education for the mass of the people, and if her clas
sical schools and colleges are placed on a broad and noble founda
tion, she Will in less than a century, acquire that elevation of char
acter, which will make her sons glory in their birth-place, and to
be able to say, I am- a citizen of Connecticut, will be, to them a
source of as much pride, as an Athenian ever felt intheag&of
Pericles, when looking at the city of Minerva.
•, Every clergyman in Prussia is required to visit the school or
schools of his parish, and to ascertain whether the teacher fulfils
his duties. He must confer with him often, must point out any
defects which may exist in his mode of di'scipline or instruction,
and see generally that he adopts the course which will best pro
mote the interests of the school. Should the instructer not
approve of the plans proposed, the question is referred to the
superintendent of the district, who decides, and from whose deci
sion there is no appeal. The clergyman of each parish makes an
annual report to this officer, and the general report of the latter
is sent to the Minister of Public Instruction once a year. A com-
* Our ancestors, not only when New England was settled, but down to the
beginning of the last century, felt an ardent desire to provide the means of
education for their children. They were poor, we are comparatively rich :
th?y were exposed to great hardships ; we are enjoying lives of tranquility.
Let us, with our superior advantages, manifest?an equal interest for those
who are to succeed us, that they did for us.
33

250 BERLIN.
mittee, consisting of one or more inspectors appointed by govern
ment, with the superintendent, or some person whom he may
appoint, examine all the schools within their district, once or twice
a year, to ascertain whether the reports made by the clergy are
correct, as well as to form a general view of the state of educa
tion in their provinces. The existing defects and the necessary
improvements are, thus made known to the government, and such
alterations are then made as are requisite.
The instructers are required to confine themselves almost exclu
sively to their professions, and not to j)ursue any one which will
interfere with their business of instruction. Other pursuits are
allowed in those cases only in which the receipts of the school
do not furnish a subsistence. The duties of the teacher are
numerous, as he is not only an instructer of youth, but is also
a servantof the church. In the former -capacity he must attend
to the education of his pupils in the common branches of instruc
tion, and also in biblical knowledge. Every morning aftd after
noon he is required to open the school with singing and prayer>
and to close it With singing a hymn, in which such of his pupils
as are capable unite. In the school, he is never to appear in
dishabille, but as the ordinance of December 24, 1820, decrees,
he must " never be without a cravat, nor wear slippers" before
his pupils, as he would thus lose much of his influence. It is
also enacted, that he shall never smoke in the school room ; for
so universal is this custom, that nothing but a royal ordinance
coul^ prevent it. In his capacity as a servant of the church, he
officiates as chorister ; for Germany is a nation of singers, and in
those village churches where there is an organ it is his duty to play
upon it. During the sickness or absence of the clergj-man, he is
required to officiate as his substitute ; to read such a sermon as
the preacher has previously Selected, and afterwards to catechise
the children. In the church, he must always appear in black, and
when the pastor is present, must take charge of his scholars. In
every situation he is required to yield the precedence to tiie clergy
man. Without the permission of the latter he cannot be absent
from the school; and with such permission no longer period than
three days. Should he desire a longer absence, it is necessary to
apply to the superintendent, without \<fhose approbation no altera
tions in the prescribed mode of teaching are allowed.

SCHOOLS OF PRUSSIA. 251
Every parent is required to send his children to school as soon
as they have reached a certain age, which, if I mistake not, is
six years. It is the duty of the clergyman to visit his people
annually, to ascertain if there are any parents who do not comply
with this regulation. Should such parents, after having been noti
fied by him, refuse to send their children, they are arraigned
before a public tribunal, where they are punished by^a fine. For
the first week's absence of each child, the fine is one-thirtieth
part of a rix dollar ; for the second, one-fourth ; for the third,
two-thirds ; and for the fourth, a rix dollar. Should he still con
tinue to refuse to send his child, he is compelled to pay thirty
fold. This penalty is imposed between the first of October and
the first of April. From the first of April to the firstiof July, the
child is not required to attend school but half of the time ; and
after the last mentioned period, until the first of October, parents
are not required to send their children, as they need their assist
ance during the harvest months. The children must remain at
school until they are confirmed, which usitaUy takes place at fifteen
years of age, though it is sometimes delayed by the parents until
sixteen. The school-house is erected at the expense of the parish, and
must be sufficiently large to accommodate the scholars and the
family of the instructer, who receives the use of it gratis. In the
vicinity of this edifice is a small garden, and sometimes a few acres
of land ; of which he has the use so long as he remains the instruc
ter of the parish. This building is not very elegant, as it u^ally
contains but four or five chambers, but it is suitable for one whose
income is"so moderate as that of most of the instructers. Every
parish has a treasury, from the funds of which the instructer is paid
from seventy to eighty dollars per annum. Besides this amount,
each parent^ays to him six pfennings a weel^, or about six centg
per month, for the instruction of each of his children. In some
cases he receives also a small quantity of butter and flax from the
parents. His whole income, exclusive of the rent of the school-
house and the ground connected with it, rarely amounts to more
than one hundred Spanish dollars, if he teaches one of the village
schools. Those who live in the towns receive about one hundred
and fifty dollars.

252 BERLIN.
All the books which are studied are selected by the consistory,
and no new one can be introduced without its permission. The
Bible is universally read by the chUdren, and forms, as in our
own country, the foundation of education for the youth of Prussia.
From this statement you will perceive how much this govern
ment has done for the people. In no country in Europe, except
Saxony and the south of Scotland, and possibly in one or two of
the smaller states of Germany, is education so universally difiiised
as in the central part of this kingdom. These schools are esta
blished in every village. It may be said with truth of Prussia,
that it is one of the most enlightened countries in the world ; for
among the younger class of the population, it is rare to see an
individual vho cannot both read and write. I make use of the
word younger, because many of the laws relating to education,
were enacted during the reign of the present monarch, before
whose accession the schools were in a much lower state than at
present. No one can help respecting Frederick William for the
wisdom he has exhibited, in thus improving the character of his
subjects. This emotion will be stronger, when it is recollected
that he is one of the most active members of the Holy Alliance,
and that he is still not afraid of the general difiusion of intelUgence
among his subjects. He is here laying a broad foundation for the
future prosperity of Prussia, and it is to be hoped also, for the
future liberty of the nation. This event will not probably happen
in many years, but it must come should these institutions continue
for a century.
Although there are some defects in the plan which Frederick
William has formed to diffuse intelligence throughout his domi
nions, the system is still so much superior to those of most
Protestant countries, that you will perhaps feel no Uttle surprise
at this account of it ; accustomed as we have been only a few
years since, to class the Prussian peasantry below even those of
England. Perhaps the greatest defect in the schools of Prussia,
is the allowance of so limited a compensation to the instructers.
In a country like] ours, this evil need not exist ; but in Prussia
it is unavoidable, so long as it continues as poor a kingdom as it
is at present. The price of produce is now so low, and the diffi
culties of finding a market are so great, that it is extremely incon-

SCHOOLS OF PRUSSIA. 253
venient for many of the peasantry, to pay pven the small sum
which the law requires for the education of their children.
Allusion has been already made to th^ great benefit that might
be derived from the establishment of seminaries, for the education
of instructers. There is another advaixtage which would flow from
such institutions. In the United States the business of instruction
is, to a gftat extent, a secondary employment. It is one which
occupies most teachers but a limited part of their lives. The
young men who are thus employed, find in the almost immeasura
ble West a larger scope for their talents ; while the young ladies
and young widows, to whom the education of most children is
committed, soon discover that matrimony is a much more desirahle
state, than the '' delightful task of teaching the young idea how to
shoot." Instructers in Prussia have no other employment. This
is the great object of their existence ; here is their permanent
home. Were such seminaries established with us, by increasing
the compensation of the instructers we might easily persuade
them to make it the employment of their lives. It would then
soon 'become a distinct profession, and many young men of
respectable talents and acquirements would look to it as a future
occupation. Instead of being compelled to exchange the instructers
of our children so frequently, the schools would be re-organized,
and the teachers would rarely think of pursuing any other pro
fession. From the remarks which have been made by me on the subject
of education in Germany, as well as from my great approbation of
the character of their universities,. I hope you will not think that
I am becoming too Germanic in my feelings,- or that I have lost
any of my attachment to my native land. I have, however, been
too long absent from home, to use nothing but superlatives when
speaking of every characteristic of our country, or to shut my
eyes upon the improvements which exist on this side of the At
lantic. We have much in which we may glory ; and when look
ing at the future prospects of our great nation, my heart often
beats vrith pride, and I hope with gratitude, for our civil and reli
gious liberty, as well as for our almost universal spirit of enter
prise and religious philanthropy. But I trust that this admiration
will not stf dazzle my eyes, as to prevent rtie from seeing else-

254 Berlin.
where the good which we do not possess, a.nd from profiting by
the view. Though we are able to teach the governments on the
continent many political truths, we have yet much to learn from
them in return ; and peculiarly on the subject of education, before
we shall attain that literary pre-eminence which is the blessing
and the glory of Germany.

255

LETTER XV.
Wittenberg, May, 1826.
I left Berlin on Saturday the 29th, and arrived here the same
evening. In the carriage were two Russian students, a Bavarian
and an Erfufth Saxon. The Russians hardly opened their lips»
unless to receive their pipes or their dinner. The Bavarian who
had -served in the Russian campaign, was brimfull oi" war, cannon,
and thunder ; and in all his descriptions of the great events of
which he had been an eye witness, he made himself so prominent,
that he soon found us as unwilling to listen as he was desirous of
being heard. The Saxon, who had been very complaisant to his
southern brother in giving him the field during' the first hour or
two of our ride, no sooner discovered him flagging, than he com
menced talking with great energy. He began on politics, with
arguments conclusive to himself, but not equally so to an oppo
nent, as they were of the following character : — Government did
not pursue the best course, and they might do better, and any
one could see it was true, and no one could doubt of it, and it waft
evident, &c. Finding no one disposed to take him up on these
positions, he changed his subject to Berlin, which from the recol
lections of the late cold weather, or from some other cause, he
had found very uninteresting. Seeing on one of the signs which we
pstssed, the picture of a beer bottle with a tumbler receiving its
contents, he next descanted on the subject of beer. He gave us
an account of this beverage in every part of Germany through
which he had travelled ; informed us of the coipparative price in
Prussia, Saxony, Saxon Erfurth and Bavaria ; and described mi
nutely the varieties of colour in all the beer manufactured from
Konigsberg to Munich. On these and other properties of this
drink he talked until his tongue was parched with this violent ex
ercise ; and when the carriage stopped, his conversation would
cease only long enough for him to pour down his bottle. His lips
would then acquire new vigour, and a stream of frothy words;

256 CAROUSALS OF THE BUSCHEN.
would flow, rettiihdihg us of the rush of a sluice, or the feU of a
cascade. B^r is the universal drink of the lower classes of society, and
a very favourite beverage with those that are above them. When
well made, it is much superior to English ale or porter, but is
equally expensive. , That usually drunk by the peasantry and com
mon people of the cities, is much inferior to the ale of our coun
try, and much less nutritious than that of England. Every peasant,
in this part of Prussia, carries it with him into the fields, and con
siders it as necessary as bread. In" every village there are one or
more breweries, where the inhabitants procure their supply. It
is always examined to see if it has the necessary strength, when
the price is fixed from week to week, in proportion to that of
grain. As that is very low at the present time, beer costs but a
Spanish dollar for twelve or fourteen gallons. AVith a reasonable
thirst, even the Prussian peasants could afford to indulge them
selves with it; but they, as well as some of the classes above
them, drink an amount which no stomach but a German's could
cbntain, and which no one could believe who has not travel
led in Germfiny. I know of no feats, in beer drinking, to
compare with those of the Heidelberg students. These knights
of the tankard, or rather of the beer jug, for the former arti
cle is confined I believe to England and our own country, have
acquired a reputation for drinking whieh excites the admira
tion of the Burschen in the other universities. It is currently
reported that they place themselves at their drinking contesU
in two rows, with nine of these jugs in front of each stu
dent. These he must empty, or lose his reputation as a genuine
Saufer.. As they hold from one to two quarts, he is under the
necessity of resorting to his pipe, which creates a thirst every five
minutes ; and by this means, during a few hours sitting, he is able
to exhaust them all.
If you will imagine twenty students placed on opposite benches,
with eighteen rows of jugs between tiiem ; an atmosphere gradu
ally, thickening with smoke, until they become almost invisible to
each other ; the lamps appearing through the smoke like so many
lights barely gleaming, through a fog ; while from the stentorian
lungs of some one of them a song in honour of beer is belched

BURSCHEN SONGS. 257
out, in the chorus of which they all unite with a shout of thunder,
— ^you will form an idea of one of the Heidelberg drinking con
tests, as they are described by those who have often been con
spicuous on such occasions. A Bursch, who belonged to the
university of Heidelberg a few years since, has acquired an im
mortality of renown among all succeeding beer drinkers, by a feat
which they deem equal to any thing recorded of Hercules. It is
related of him, that at one sitting (probably from six, P. M. till
midnight,) he drank fifty-six tumblers of beer, without experiencing
any inconvenience.*
The students have a great yariety of songs in praise of beer ;
and in the northern universities they are sung as often as those in
honour of Bacchus. I have a dozen or more of them in my pos
session, which were evidently written under the inspiration of this
liquor; some of them, not improbably, by the students of Heidel
berg. This favourite drink is praised in them in all the melody
of verse, with imagery derived from Germany and from the vari
ous phenomena of fermentation. This subject would kindle the
fancy of no one but a poet of this country. There is, however,
in these songs, as much poetry of thought and lapguage as in those
composed in praise of the grape. These students' songs are pe
culiar to the German universities, every one of which has its
book of Burschen lyrics. They are written in commendation of
the different Landsmannschaften, in honour of the Burschen's life,
and of the university, on freedom, on the war of 1813 and '14, in
praise of wine, beer, punch, and of the " glorious Father Rhine."
This bacchanalian and beer poetry is full of shouting choruses,
whieh are admirably adapted to the atmosphere of Auerbach's
cellar, and other subterranean places of resort of a similar de
scription. The songs on freedom are frequently of a very high
character, and overflowing with enthusiasm. When looking at
the Germans at the present time, it seems almost impossible to
believe, that poetry so filled with aspirations for liberty and so
heroic in sentiment, ever came from a people who know nothing
of freedom but the name. They were composed, however, under
* Six Heidelberg students who were my fellow travellers for several days,
each told me that no one at that university doubted of the reality of this exploit.
It a very large story to believe, and still they had no doubt of its truth.
34

258 the ROAD.
the momentary excitement which prevailed when their yoke
was broken in 1813, and in the full belief that it was broken for
ever. Many of these songs were written by the students, and others
by those who had left the universities, and were already mingling
in the combat. I know but iew patriotic songs of a higher charac
ter, or more calculated to rouse the spirit of a nation. They were
sung by the bands of the students, as they advanced to join their
brothers in arms, and as they were preparing for battle ; and they
are thought to have contributed not a little to the victories which
were gained. Those written by Korner, and C. M. Arndt, are parti
cularly filled with patriotic fire.
Besides these songs, there are others appropriated to the differ
ent professions, especially to the law. The Leipzig students have
thrown not a small part of the Corpus Juris into German verse.
These songs are not very poetical, but sufficiently so to jingle very
well, when the music is melodious. They are undoubtedly of no
little assistance to the student, in acquiring the rudiments of this
profession ; as what we once learn in rhyme is rarely forgotten,
and is much more easily understood by a young student, thau'the
technical language of jurisprudence. This species of lyrics is
very much prized, as it enables them to pursue their studies in the
midst of a beer carousal.
In quitting Berlin with your face turned towards the south, yon
anticipate the pleasure of leaving the sands behind you ; but not
such is the reality. Sand and pine trees, and pine trees and
sand, spread before, behind, and around you. Miserable villages
rising above a still more wretched soil, are here and there scat
tered over this region of barrenness. Wherever the earth is
covered with verdure, it is by dint-of effort ; and never was the
curse upon man more literally fulfilled, than on the inhabitants
residing in this region of poverty. The surface is most of the way
a continued plain, with scarcely an elevation worthy the name of a
hillock. The celebrity which Saxony has so long enjoyed, for the
fertility of its soil, leads you to hope, that every mile you travel, in
approaching this comparative land of promise, wiU present a fairer
region, to your eye. After leaving Trauenbrictzen (half way bet ween
BerUn and Wittenberg) a few miles behind, you arrive at the boun
dary of Saxony, as it existed before the Congress of Vienna. The-

WITTENBERG. ^9
word Saxony, to the ears of the Germans, and to those of all tra*-
v-eUers who have associated mueh,with them, is synonymous with
fertility , but no bright verdure exhibits to your eye a fairer land,
and the walls and towers of Wittenberg rise from the sand, as if to
remind you of Tadmor in the desert.
Wittenberg, which lies about a quarter of a mile north-east of the
Elbe, is one of the weakest fortresses of Prussia ; having nothing
but a wall, a broad trench, and two towers, to resist an invading
enemy. It was defended by the French against the Prussians, for
many months, during the war of 1813 — 14 ; and, at length, on the
12th of January, 1814, when the water which filled the trenches
was frozen, it was carried by storm, with the loss of about one
hundred men. Although to the eye of the mere soldier it has little
to recommend it, still to a Protestant, and to every one who loves
mental freedom, it will long remain a hallowed spot, as it was once
the scene of the labours, and now contains the ashes, of two of the
greatest reformers. It was in the convent of Wittenberg that Lu
ther studied when he first felt the luxury of moral emancipation.
It was here that he thundered against the iniquities and oppression of
the Catholic hierarchy, and awakened Europe from the lethargy of
ages. Here he preached for many years against the religious pros
titutions of the papal see, and roused the animosity of the pope, of
kings, and emperors, until the moral world was in arms. Melanch-
thon, his coadjutor and friend, here united with him in the defence
of every thing dear to man, until on Wittenberg the eyes of nations ,
were fixed, as on the fortress of their hopes. It was to Christen
dom a moral Marathon, where the fetters of tyranny and supersti
tion were broken, when millions, catching the song of triumph,
orgot that they had been slaves.
The convent in which Luther studied is still remaining, and the
traveller enters the room in which he wrote his replies to the
anathemas of papacy, with a curiosity only equalled by his admi
ration for the character of that great reformer. The chair in which
he was accustomed to sit, and the table on which he wrote, are still
there ; having undergone no alteration during the revolution of
three centuries, except the clippings which have been made by the
knives of travellers. In his study is a portrait of this great man,
as well as of Frederick the Wise, and of his brother John the

260 WITTENBERG.
Steadfast ; the two Saxon electors who protected him again st imperial
and papal power. Just out of the gate through which you pass
in going to Dresden, you discover a small piece of ground fenced
in, where a few wild flowers are still growing. Here, on the 10th
of December, 1520, Luther publicly burned the papal buU which
anathematized him, in presence of the citizens of Wittenberg. It
is difficult for us, accustomed as we are to laugh at papal anathe
mas, and knowing how harmless they are now, to form an adequate
conception of the courage that thus bade defiance to the pope,
the emperor, and to the dukes and electors whose territories sur
rounded him.
In the Schloss Kirche, or as it is more frequently caUed, the
Garnison Kirche, garrison church, Luther lies buried, with the
following short inscription.
Martini Lutheri. S. Theologiae. D. Corpus. H. L. S. E. qui
Ann. Christi. M. D. XL VI. XII Cal. Martii. Eyslebii in Patiia. S.
M. O. C. V. Ann. LXIII. M. II. D. X.
At the distance of a few feet, Melanchthon lies interred, with the
following inscription.
Philippi Melanchthonis. S. V. Corpus. H. L. S. E. qui Ann.
Christi. M. D. LX. XU Cal. Maiae. in hac urbe. M. O. C. V. Ann.
LXIII. M. II. D. II.
These inscriptions are on bronze plates of three feet in length,
by about one and a half in breadth. They are each of them sunk
six or eight inches below the pavement of the church. Directiy
beneath, the ashes of these mighty dead are reposing. Near their
tombs, are suspended against the walls of the church, two full
length portraits of these great men. They were executed during
the lives of the Reformers, by Lewis Cranach, an artist who was
not without merit as a portrait painter, though his historical pieces,
of which there are still several in the Stadt Kirche, excite very
little admiration in the mind of one accustomed to the galleries of
Italy. Melanchthon is drawn in his morning gown, which is edged
with fur ; Luther in a preacher's gown, similar to tiiat worn by
the Lutheran clergymen at the present time. In the portraits of
the Reformers whieh I had previously seen, they are so frequentiy
painted with beards as long as a capuchin's, that I had been accus
tomed to associate this appendage with all the pictures of that age.

LUTHER. 261
I was surprised to find Luther without any beard, and Melanchthon
with one of not more than half an inch in length. The beard of
Melanchthon is quite grey, while his hair is black. He is repre
sented as having been of small stature, but in this picture he is
above the ordinary height. Luther is painted as quite fat, and ap
pears about fifty-five years of age. Melanchthon is very thin, and
apparently older. The two electors whB^ve been mentioned,
both lie interred in front of the altar. I^^^wall -are bronze mo
numents of them in relief, and near thl^^^pbs are two wooden
statues clad in armour, in the attitude ofprayer. In the church
delta Santa Croce, or of the Holy Cross, at Florence, are the ashes
of Galileo, Alfieri, and of the greatest of modern Italians, Michael
Angelo Buonarotti. The Florentines reverence this edifice, on
account of their great countrymen whose ashes are there reposing,
and Byron, speaking of it, says,
 ill Santa Croce lie

Ashes which make it holier.
If they in science, poetry and the fine arts gave a reviving day to
Italy, the reformers, whose ashes hallow the soil of Wittenberg,
enlightened the world. Italy in science, poetry and the fine arts,
is now in comparative obscurity, while the sun of moral freedom
is rising towards the zenith, where it will ere long stand still in its
meridian splendour.
In the Stadt Kirche (city church) or as it was formerly called
the Pfarre Kirche der heiligen Maria (the parish church of holy Ma
ry) where Luther was accustomed to preach to the inhabitants of
Wittenberg, the brass baptismal font, from which he baptised the
children of the parish, is still standing. The French, while they
were in possession of Wittenberg, in imitation of the English when
besieged in Boston, converted this heretical church into a stable for
their horses. The soldiers robbed the font of two of the brass
saints in relief, but went no farther in their spoliations, except to
scratch with their bayonets two or three old paintings which had
little merit besides their age. One of these represents the harvest
of the world, in which Luther is the prominent figure, who is pla
ced in a much more conspicuous situation than the angels who are
labouring with him. Here are also several pictures by Cranach,

262 WITTENBERG.
one of which is, the last supper, in which he has substituted him
self for one of the apostles, and for the remainder has taken the
faces of some of his friends, the citizens of Wittenberg. Another
represents Melanchthon baptizing an infant, and after the Lutheran
mode, pouring water from the palm of his right hand on the back
of the infant's head. It is a long time since I have read an account
of the Reformation, but.if my memory does not fail me, he was
never an ordained cyHnian, and consequently had no right, ac.
cording to the rega^^^Pof the Lutheran church, to officiate at
this ceremony. ^B^
Luther conferred upon Northern Germany, and on the world, a
greater blessing than has been imparted by any other indiri-
dual during the last seventeen centuries. From the time that he
first promulgated the rights of the human mind, three hundred
years had elapsed before a single monument was erected to his
name. The present king in the year 1821, caused one to be erect
ed in the public square of Wittenberg. It rests upon a pedestal
of red granite, about twelve feet square and eight in heigl t. On
this stands a colossal bronze statute of Luther, clad in his robes.
Over him rises a Gothic canopy of cast iron, the summit of which
is not more than thirty feet in altitude. Were I Frederick Wil
liam, and could I say as he can, that Luther was a native of my
kingdom, I would elevate a monument to his name that should rise
above the clouds.
In 1502, Frederick the Wise, the Elector of Saxony, who was
so distinguished by his friendship for Luther, founded in this city
a university. Through the talents and fame of Luther and Me
lanchthon, students soon came to it from distant parts of Germany.
It became in a few years a powerful rival of Leipzig, and for a long
period continued one of the most celebrated universities of this
country. It was in the year 1815 united to that of Halle, and its
funds, consisting of between three and four hundred thousand dol
lars, were transferred to that institution. The Ubrary, with the
exception of about twenty thousand volumes on tiieology, was re
moved to the former city. The reasons which influenced the Prus
sian government to unite them, were the proximity of Halle, and
the great increase of the means of instruction arising from this
nnion of the materiel of literature, and the greater subdivision of

PROFESSOR HAUBNfiR. 263
intellectual labour. To reconcile the inhabitants to the loss of the
university, another institution was created, to which they gave the
name of the Theological Seminary. The object the government
had in view, was to qualify young clergymen for the practical part
of their profession, as well as to give them an opportunity to pur
sue their studies still farther than was usually done at the univer
sity. They are here taught every thing relating to the ceremonial
duties of the clergy, and perform them untU they are perfectly
acquainted with all those devolving upon S pastor. The students
remain here two years, pursuing also their exegetical studies, di
dactic theology, philosophy, &c. When they leave the institution
and enter on the duties of their profession, they are in intellectual
and other qualifications, probably not surpassed, if equalled, by
those of any other country. The poverty of the young theologians
in this country is so great, that few of them are able to do more
than support themselves during the three years they reside at the
university. This is the reason why this institution has never
flourished, as much as a stranger would be led to anticipate, in this
land of education. There are at the present time not more than
thirty students, and but three professors.
Here I became acquainted with professor Haubner of the theo
logical seminary, who is reputed to be one of the most eloquent
preachers of this country. His ill health prevented my having an
opportunity of comparing him with those of Berlin. He is con
sidered by his acquaintance and by the students, one of the most
distinguished of the orthodox clergymen. The public as yet have
had no opportunity of forming an opinion of his talents and research
es, except through the medium of the pulpit, as he forms in one
respect an exception to almost all the German literati I have seen;
¦viz., that although more than forty years of age, he has never pub
lished any work larger than a pamphlet. He has been occupied
many years in preparing a work on the genuineness and authenti
city of the Old Testament, from which his friends anticipate the
happiest results.
Few objects, since my first arrival in Europe, have more
powerfully reminded me that I have left my own country, than
the private libraries of the learned men of Germany. That of
professor Haubner, which I examined, is in theological worth

264 WITTENBERG.
superior to any public library in the United States, except that of
Cambridge, and it is Uttle, if any, inferior to that. It is principally
composed of works more or less connected with his profession,
consisting of the most valuable theological discussions in the
modern languages of Europe, of a great number in Latin and
Greek, as well as of many of the principal authors in oriental
literature, with commentaries on their writings. I found here the
works of the most distinguished English defenders of infidelity, as
well as of those of Christianity. He, like every other German I have
seen, whatever his creed may be, entertains none of that dread of
examining the writings of those who are opposed to him in senti
ment, which is not unfrequent with us ; making truth only the
great object of his researches. In every country but Germany, a
theological education is principally confined to reading works in
defence of the creed of the sect to which the individual belongs ;
those which are opposed to his faith being rarely perused. Here,
however, the rule of rationalist as weU as orthodox is, that a creed
which will not stand the test of examination, is of course, an
imaginary structure ; and that a revelation which will not bear the
attacks of deism, is not worthy of God. If we are required to
" be always ready to give a reason of the hope that is in us," it
certainly is our duty to examine both sides of a question, so
important as our faith, and seeking guidance from above, to advance
to such an examination without fear of the consequences. If not,
we, like the Catholics, have a mere hereditary creed, and like them,
we should renounce that freedom of thought in religion, which
Luther acquired by his mighty efforts, and which he left as a
legacy to the Protestant world. By taking the opposite ground,
we justify the Catholics for surrendering their reason to the priest
hood, and we imitate them too ; for it is as great mental slavery to
believe this or that faith, because it is that of our fathers, or the
sect to whieh we belong, as to receive our opinions from a Uving
pope, priest, or cardinal. But we do the greatest possible injury
to our creed by manifesting this dread of attack ; we acknowledge
that our fortress is too weak to be defended, and thus confess to
others, that we are holding untenable ground. Tlie EngUsh clergy
are accused by their opponents of pursuing this course; and,
certainly, until within a few years, a very free spirit of investigation

PROFESSOR «CHL£USN£R. 265
has not existed in Our own country. Profesisor Stuart, in his
department, has done much tovirards breaking the last fetters which
held the mind in slavery; and, in the institution where he lectures,
has introduced a freedom of examination, for which he deserves
the thanks of every liberal man.
With such feelings, it gave me not a little pleasuM, to see that
professor Haubner was resolyed to defend truth, not merely against
the attacks of native but of foreign opponents. He has been
.collecting his library the last twenty years, and by pursuing the
grea,test economy, has increased it to more than seven thousand
volumes. When I remember that his salary as a preacher and
professor, has hot during this period averaged seven hundred
dollars, I cannot but admire that love of literature, and that willing-.
ness to submit to privations which he must have exhibited, in
order to procure the means of discovering and defending truth.
Such a private theological library has never been found in our
country, and I fear there will be none such' for a long period
to come.
I called to-day on professor Schleusner, the celebrated author of
the Lexicon of the New Testament. He is now sixty-seven, years
of age, rather short, and has one of the most intelligent faces I
have seen west of the Rhine. He is very ardent in his feelings,
and eixpresses himself with all the animation of one of twenty-five
years of age. I found him very liberal on all subjects, exhibiting
the most expanded views, and feeling not merely for his country,
hut fo;r mankind. He is a great adniirer of our institutions, and
to my surpriso, expressed the/belief, that in a century, we should
be far more distinguished for literature than any country in
Europe. He made the same remark to me, . in proof of this
opinion, that the astronomer did, whom I met several years since
on the summit of the observatory in Palermo, that literature had
always been marching towards the west, and that it would, ere long,
flourish in our country with more vigour than it ever had in the
old world. On this principle, the Chinese and Tartars wiU, a few
centuries hence, look to, us as the land of science and learning;'
and the poets of the Colorado, the Columbia, and Nootka Sound,
will have their admirers on the banks of the Hoang Ho, the
Amour, and in Kamschatka. This wouldjnot he more surprising,
35

266 WITTENBCRO.
than our country would be at the present time to an inhabitant of
London during the reign of queen Anne, could he arise from his
grave, and make a few excursions on our rivers, or behold the
hundred steam-boats on the Mississippi and its branches. I found
professor S. so warm a friend of the Greeks, that he declared to
me, that were he only forty years of age, he would abandon his
library and literary pursuits, and offer them his services to assist
them in regaining their independence ; which, he said, was the
cause not only of Greece, but of humanity. I could not help
admiring the noble ardour, and devoted sentiments, which he
manifested, when conversing upon a subject so dear to every
philanthropist, and was not more surprised than delighted, to see
one of the German savans, whose life had been passed in exegetical
and philological studies, thus willing to sacrifice his aU, that he
might assist a nation struggling for life and liberty.

267

LETTER XVn.

Halle, May, 1826.
Soon after leaving Wittenberg, I crossed the Elbe, which is
there not more than five hundred feet in width. A few miles from
that city, the soil Changes lo a fine loom, and the long anticipated
fertility of Saxony appears, furnishing quite a relief to the eye, so
Ibng accustomed to the sands of the north. The villages by their
magnitude, remind you even at a distance, that you have reached
a fairer land, while their neatness and comparative comfort, convey
an idea of independence, rarely enjoyed by the Prussian peasant.
The road passed through , a' region less level than the country
around the metropolis, stiU sufficiently so, to exhibit several
platoons of windmills during the ride. As the sun went down, a
shov?"er presented us with the sight of a beautiful rainbow, the first
I have seen since leaving Switzerland, in August, 1824.. That
country is as much a land of rainbows as of lakes and mountains,
and no where, except at Niagara, is the eye delighted with colours
more glorious, than those presented by her evening show6rs. In
the Tyrol, and in some of the mountains of northern Germany,'
the refreshing sbOwers which add so much to the beauty of our
summer scenery, are often seeUj 'while every neighbouring peak
rolls back the thunder with an eloquent response.' In the lower
grounds of Europe, however, these evening rains are much less
frequent, and when they appear, they usually cofttinue long after'
night has covered the earth.
Halle, where I arrived at dusk, is interesting to the soldier, from
its having been exposed to various sieges, but it was still more so '
to me from its university, which at the present time, is more
distinguished for talent and the number of its students and instruc
ters, than any other in Prussia, that of Berlin excepted. The "
exertions of Gesenius, Niemeyer, Knappe, Wegges^hisider and

268 HALLE UNITBRSITT. «
Others, have greatly extended its reputation. In the department
of theology, it is better manned, than any other university of
Germany. It is universally considered in this country, as the
first theological school in Europe, having between seven hundred
and fifty and eight hundred students, belonging to that department.
This is one half more than in any other university of Germany,
and is rather a larger number, than that of the law students of
Gottingen. There are, at the present time, sixty instructers, and
nearly twelve hundred students. This is not only the great
theological school of Germany, but the only one, where theology
appears more prominent than the other branches of education.
Gottingen and Heidelberg are renowned as schools of law. The
university of Berlin is more distinguished in the same science, and
also in medicine, notwithstanding Schleiermacher, who is by many,
believed to possess one of the brightest minds in Germany, is. at
the head of the theological department of that institution. Leipzig
is much more celebrated in classical literature than any other
university, but in its professional department, it is equaUed by
several. Halle is the strong hold of rationalism, and from the attacks of
the professors of this institution, revelation has suffered more,
than from those of any other. Knappe, who died a few weeks
since, was the only one who had the reputation of being orthodox,
as the word is now understood. Professor Tholuck, of BerUn, has
been chbsen to succeed him, and there is reason to believe, that he
will defend the cause which he has espoused, with even more talent
than his predecessor. The students here are almostall of them ration
alists, and for rows, for noise, and for the wild savage conduct which
marks theBurschenleben, theyare only equalled by thoseof Jenaand
Heidelberg. They are like those of the other universities, divided
into Landsmannschaften, and in the variety and richness of cap
uniform, they leave all others far behind them. They dress better
than those of Berlin, but being accustomed to rule the town, they
exhibit a want of complaisance to strangers, more suitable to the
age of their idol, the famous Hermann, than to the present century.
The town of Halle contained in 1823, 23,800 inhabitants. Of
all the German cities I have yet seen, it is the meanest in appear
ance, although it Uea in the centre of a luxuriant country. Its

PROFESSOR GESENIUS. 2(}9
Streets are short, crooked, narrow, and dirty, while the houses,
although elevated, are in their exterior the very antipodes of taste
and beauty. The town, notwithstanding its salt manufactories,
depends principally upon the students for its existence, and were
the university removed, many of the inhabitants would be deprived
of the means of subsistence. The university edifice is in unison
with the appearance of the town, resembling, an old monastery,
which has been uninhabited for centuries, one where time has
gormandized in the revelry of undisputed possession. Another
edifice will be erected as soon as the necessary means are procured ;
for the accomplishment of which object the king has given forty
thousand dollars. This and several other acts of generosity on the
part of Frederick William, of which the motive w'as the increase
of the Uterary resources of his kingdom, should be mentioned to
his honour, and not forgotten even by those, who have looked to
him in vain for a constitution.
- Among the literati of this institution, there is no one whose name
is so extensively known in the United States as Professor Gesenius.
As he is not only admitted to be the first Hebrew scholar of
Germany, but is probably regarded every whercj as standing at
the head of Hebrew philologists, you may expect something more
than a general notice of him. This can be easily given you, as he
received mein a very friendly manner, giving me much of his time
during the few days I passed hete. He is abou|; five feet eight
inches in height, rather plump, has a high and beautiful forehead,
and an eye beaming with intelligence, His face is much rounder
than you often see in the United States, presenting a physiognomy
not precisely German, but more so than belongs to those nations
who have derived their language from the old Romans. Having
travelled much more than most of the German professors, he is
more a man of the world, and never exhibits that embarrassment
you so often observe when conversing with them. Though he
has intellectually lived in a distant age and country, during not a
small portion of his life, his oriental studies have not unfitted him
for mingUng with the country and age in which he lives. The
Hebrew savant appears only in his study and lecture room, aind in
his works ; but there he reminds you of one born in the golden
age of Hebrew literature, whos'e birth place was the metropolis of

270 uallE.
Palestine. In society or in a ramble with him, you find his con-"
versation very amusing and sprightly. Nothing of the book-worm
appears; and, from his manner and remarks, you would not imagine
that immense folios and quartos had been his most intimate
companions. Paris, the French character, German universities,
the late war, the state of education in our country, our political
institutions, and the mounds and fortifications of our western states,
were the prominent topics of conversation, into which he entered
with great ardour, iUustrating his opinions and arguments with a
fund of anecdote and humour. His great frankness and agreeable
manners, soon make one cease to feel that he is a stranger, and
place him on the footing of a friend.
He began his literary career as a lecturer at the early age of
twenty, and, at twenty-eight, published his celebrated Lexicon, a
work which has not only never been equalled, but has never been
approached, by those of other Hebrew scholars. We have had
many professed Hebraists in the United States, but until within a
few years, we could never boast of one that would not have been
regarded as a stripling by his side.
Professor Gesenius, as I have remarked, was delivering lectures
upon Hebrew Uterature and exegesis, at twenty years of age, and,
at twentyreight, he pubUshed his great Lexicon. "Where is the
young theologian of our country, of twenty years of age, that can
give an exegetical view of the book of Isaiah, or even of Genesis?
Such an individual may exist, but of such a one I have never heard.
He is now, as he informed me, forty years of age; but, were it not for
a few scattering gray hairs, you would not suppose him to be more
than thirty-five. At this early period it may be said of him, as of
Frederick the Great, fama ubique.
He had received the translation of his lexicon by Professor
Gibbs, of which he spoke in very high terms, observing that his
small lexicon had numerous errors and imperfections, which the
translator had not only avoided, but had also very much improved
many parts of it. He is now printing his Hebrew and Latin lexi
con, which is finished in quarto and folio, as far as the letter gim-
mel. The first half of it will appear in about eighteen months,
very much enlarged, and undoubtedly much superior to the former
one. Professor Gesenius visited llngland a few years since, and

PROFESSOR OESENIUS. 371
passed some months at Oxford and Cambridge, examining the
manuscripts of those universities. I found that he, as well all the
theological professors of this country, whom Ihave seen, orthodox
as well as rationalists, entertain a very low opinion of the intel
lectual theology of England at the present time. He informed me,
that he saw but two orientalists in Great Britain, and he believed
that there were but very few in that country who deserved thft
name. The investigations of Professor G. have been principally
confined to philology and exegesis. Among his exegetical works,
his commentary on Isaiah is the most celebrated, and one which
in this country, and I believe with us also, is thought to leave all
others far behind. The translation of this book, which he has
there presented to the public, is most accurate and beautiful. The
illustrations exhibit very uncommon research and philolcfgical
acumen. As his studies have been chiefly confined to oriental
literature, his peculiar sentiments on dogmatical theology have
never been expressed. That he does not belong to the orthodox
party is well known, but he is far from adopting the extravagant
'views of many of the German theologians. His lecture-room is
overflowing, and not only is every seat occupied, but some forty
or fifty of the students are compelled to stand. At one of his
lectures which I attended, about three hundred were present, but
had the room been large enough to admit them, the number would
probably have been doubled. His subject was the peculiar char
acteristics of Isaiah, as a poet. These he delineated with the talent
of the philologist and man of taste, and he made those nice
discriminations you woiHd anticipate, from one, so intimately
acquainted with the language, the age, and the country of the
prophet. There Were no general remarks' and conjectures: it waa
that minute analysis which, distinguishes the true scholar from the
great majority of commentators.
In one of my letters from Berlin, dated Match, when remark
ing upon the climate of that part of Prussia. I observed that the
weather had been so warm for several weeks, that my windows
were kept open during Several hours of the day. About the mid
dle of March, the second rainy season commenced : since that
time; with the exception of a week of blustering winds, (when the
sand of the metropolis forsook the pavements, and remained most

Sr* HALLE.
of the, time suspended in the air,) we have had nothing but rain,
mist, damp, and clouds, which latter rarely passed over us without
discharging their contents. Al Wittenberg, in consequence of the
violence of the winds, I found it necessary to defend myself with
my cloak, although my stove was heated as frequentiy as in mid
winter. It was not an intense cold, but that raw, chilly dampness
which, as the Germans express it, goes through marrow and bone.
At Paris, during the same season of the last year, the weather was
delightful. In the early parts of Aj)ril, the gardens of the Tuileries
and Luxembourg were arrayed in all their beauty, and the first
week of May was so warm, that the sunny side of the Boulevards
was almost deserted. So long, however, has the sun hid his face,
that every one longs to see his beams again, with the earnestness
of the bewildered traveller. This continual humidity confines the
invalid so closely to his rooms, that the mind becomes as gloomy
as the clouds above him. Accustomed as we are to bright clear
winters, we submit to the humidity of the north of Europe with
less patience than the inhabitants of any other country. Cheerful
ness and energy give place to an ennui as thick, and as dark, as
the veil which hides the heavens from our eyes.
Although most of that part of Prussia, over which I have passed
since leaving Trauenbrictzen, (Halle however is excepted,) was
separated from Saxony and united to Prussia more than ten years
since, at the Congress of Vienna, it has lost as yet very little of
the Saxon, and acquired very little of the Prussian character. Its
dialect is Saxon, much of its territory is in fertility genuine Saxony,
and it is much more proud of its Saxon fame during the Reforma
tion, than of the prowess of the armies of Frederick and Blut^er.
Besides the glorious recollections awakened by the part their
ancestors sustained in freeing the human mind from the bondage
of superstition, they have " other reasons for desiring to remain
Saxons, which are more immediately operative. One of the most
important is, that the taxes of Saxony are much lighter than those
of Prussia. The latter country, hemmed in as she is by France,
Russia, and Austria, is under tha necessity of maintaining a stand
ing army, larger in proportion to her resources, than any other
power iU' Europe. The southern part of Prussia, particularly
Silesia and a part of Saxon Prussia, is fertile ; while the northern

CASTLE or GIEBICHENSTEIN. JJ73
half, with the exception of a few small tracts of land, is by nature
excessively poor. The greatest proportion of taxes consequently
falls on the south, and the inhabitants groan under their burdens.
" Because our taxes are so much heavier than they formerly were,
and than those of Saxony now are ;" was the reasbn every one
gaye me, in answer to the inquiries why they did not like the
Prussian as well as the Saxon government. The Prussians, in this
part of the kingdom, speak with a freedom about their monarch
and his government, that forms a contrast to the sealed lips or
the whispers of the inhabitants of the metropolis. It reminded
me more of the freedom of political conversation in France, than
any thing I have heard in Germany.
A short distance from Halle is the foundation of the old castle
of Giebichenstein, or as it is more frequently called the castle of
Ludwig der Springer. It stands near the Saale, on an elevation
of between two and three hundred feet. According to tradition,
Louis, a Landgrave of Thuringia, was some centuries since con
fined here. Tired of his captivity, he sprung from one of the
¦windows of the castle down this precipice, and made his escape
without receiving any injury from this tremendous leap, which is
quite as terrible as a spring froin the promontory of Leucadia. If
the truth could be ascertained, it would, doubtless, be found that
he availed himself of a rope or chain, and thus descended this
precipice, which is several times as high as the Tarpeian. If we
admit the story as it has been handed down to us, we must
conclude that the Germans in his day were much more sylph
like than those of the present time, for no German flesh is now
sufficiently etherial, to place itself within the influence of a per
pendicular attraction of one hundred feet, without experiencing
that fate which all flesh is heir to.
The obsolete meaning of the word Halle, is a salt manufactory.
This town received its name from the salt s|lrings 'which were
discovered here many centuries since. A few of them are hired
by individuals, but most of the manufactories belong to the
Prussian government. These springs have been longer known
than most others in this country, and are very productive, yielding
from two hundred and fifty to three hundred thousand bushels
yearly. Salt is throughout Europe a monopoly of the government.
36

274 HALLE.
As the poor are compelled to use much more of it than the rich,
such a regulation becomes very oppressive. In France, the govern
ment derives not a small item of its revenue from this monopoly. It
is there so exclusively the property of the crown, that a law exists,
that if any person manufactures it for his own use, even if he
draws a bucket of water from the Atlantic or Mediterranean, and
converts it into salt, he shall be sent to the galUes. Here, although
it belongs to the government, the inhabitants pay but a very mode
rate price in comparison with many of the nations of Europe. It
is sold at less than a dollar a bushel, a price which the poor can
afford to pay without great inconvenience. There are, according
to Hassel, about 120,000,000 of pounds manufactured in Prussia
yearly, of which the mines of Schonebeck yield more than a
third. There are many other royal monopolies in this country, which
in the United States would not be submitted to very patiently. All
metals and beds of coal belong, not to the individuals on whose
land they are found, but to the monarch. This is considered as
his right, perhaps a right given him by heaven ; for many of the
Prussians say that their king was given them by the deity. "When
I tell them in reply, that Napoleon was given them by Jehovah,
they make a nice distinction, denying the fact, and declare him to
be a usurper. According to this opinion, the possession of a few
centuries entitles a people to claim their king as a gift of Heaven,
no matter how he may originally have come into possession of his
power. But to return to the royal monopolies. Every individual
who owns the land where mines are discovered, is aUowed to
purchase of the monarch the right of selling what we should con
sider his own property, viz. the metals which are found on his
territory, provided he will pay the king his own price. So accus
tomed are they to view this as belonging to him, that they have
no idea of their having any individual right to the profits resulting
from such discoveries.
One of the royal monopoUes is the chase. This has been pur
chased in many instances by the nobility within certain districts,
for a given number of years, or for ever. Li some cases, it has
been granted as a present to those individuals, who from time to
time, have basked in the smiles of royalty. The right of the

THE CHASE. 275
chase, is limited at the present time, principally to the Royal
Family and to the nobility, as most of the citizens are too actively
employed to devote much of their time to this amusement. They
are, however, permitted to purchase this privilege of the king, or
of those who have received the exclusive privilege of hunting
within certain districts. The monarch, as I have been informed,
O'wns the Mght of disposing of the chase, for about one-third of
Prussia, while the nobles own most of the remainder. At these
hunts, any individual who has not purchased the right, is autho
rised, if invited, to accompany the hunters to his heart's content,
but on no account can he do any thing but ride, and see others
shoot. Should he even kill a hare passing over his own grounds,
he is sent to the Zuchthaus, or penitentiary, for two years, if he
is a commoner, or to the Festung, or military prison, if he is a
nobleman. "Jihe German princes are very fond of this amusement, and
whenever they go to hunt, they are attended by a numerous
cavalcade of courtiers, who are expected to attend the monarch, that
theymay beholdhisprowess, and add to the splendour of the pageant.
The wild boar, for that is almost the only animal worthy of
receiving death from the hand of royalty, is pursued for a long
time through the enclosure, and when some hours have elapsed,
he is attacked by the huntsmen in the service of the prince, who
wound him with their lances, until at length be falls prostrate
from loss of blood. He is then surrounded by the cavalcade, and
the grand duke or prince dismounts, and taking a long knife,
thrusts it through the heart of the animal. The late king of
Naples, Ferdinand IV. was exceedingly fond of hunting the wild
boar, but very unwiUing to expose himself to danger. That he
might enjoy this sport with the greatest security, he had a tower
erected in the midst of his garden at Caserta, where he stationed
himself. His huntsman drove the animal near the tower, from
whencfe the king shot it at his leisure. In France, this has
always been a favourite amusement of the monarchs. Louis XV,
was so attached to it, according to Madam Campan, that when he
did not go to the chase, his' courtiers were accustomed to say,
"the king does nothing to day." Charles X. is equally fond of
it, passing most of his time in this manner when the weather

276 HALLE.
will permit. His gamekeepers form a large circle, gradually
approaching towards the centre, until the animals are collected
within a very small compass. The king then discharges upon them
a succession of fowling pieces, which are immediately reloaded
by his attendants. One ignorant of this mode of hunting, would
consider him unrivalled in skill, when reading in the daily journals,
of his killing fifty and even seventy animals in a day. As little of
a huntsman as I am, I should pride myself more upon shooting one
wild duck flying, than in destrojdng hundreds of animals in this
manner. How ignoble is this mode of hunting in comparison with
that adopted by the ancestors of the present monarchs of Europe,
a few centuries ago ! They were always foremost in pursuing the
wild boar, and the first to pierce his side. How mean would such
a cowardly mode of destroying a noble animal have appeared to
an old Mohawk warrior ! ^
No hunting is allowed in this country during the springpind
summer, while the animals are nourishing their young ; and rarely
before the middle of October, as the crops which have not been
previously collected, would be too much injured by the trampling
of horses. As soon as the season arrives, you may ride any where
within the region prescribed by your purchase, without asking
permission of any individual whose grounds you traverse. As far
as the hunt is concerned, it rarely belongs to him ; and is never
considered his property, unless he has previously purchased the
right. Hunting, in Europe is a much more agreeable amusement
than in our country, as a fence or hedge very seldom appears, to
interrupt you while pursuing the game. I have never seen eitlier
in Prussia ; and probably very few if any, exist. There are a few
hedges in Modena, in Parma, and in Normandy ; but they are so
seldom seen, and when met with are so low, as to form a very
sUght impediment to the progress of the rider. The grounds
being all open, he can easily follow the animal in every direction,
rarely if ever meeting with an obstacle, untU he reaches th6 boun
dary to which his privilege extends. If the game is fortunate
enough to pass the boundary, it is safe, unless some other hunt
ing party, within whose territory it has fled, should give chase,
when its destruction is almost certain.

THE CHASE. 277
The privilege of the chase or hunt is of two kinds : the Hoch-
jagd, and that of the common hunt. The former includes the right
of killing all large animals, such as the badger, the wild boar, the
roe, wolf, lynx, hare, &c. and several species of birds, amongst
which is the pheasant : this is often pursued on horseback, and
is considered much the most noble amusement. The latter con
fers the right of killing those birds and animals which do not
belong to the Hochjagd. The price which is paid for this privi
lege, is in proportion to the extent of the ground, and to the abun
dance of game. The Hochjagd is much more expensive than the
other. If the circuit in the bounds of which the right pf hunting
is purchased, is a number of leagues in extent, the price is from
twenty to fifty dollars a year ; but a much larger sum than this is
paid when the exclusive privilege of hunting within these limits
is purchased. No stranger, even when invited by a friend to join
him, has the right of drawing his fowling piece upon a single
animal ; but must content himself with his exercise, and with
observing the dexterity of his companion. In a country so exten
sive as Prussia, you will thus perceive, that this right forms no
contemptible* addition to the income of those of the nobility, whose
grounds are extensive ; and the right of disposing of the hunt for
one-third of the kingdom, makes <ao small item in the revenue of
the monarch.
Another of the royal rights is the privilege of taking fish in all
the harbours of the kingdom. It is disposed of in the same man
ner as the hunt ; and although less lucrative, it amounts to a very
considerable sum. By this monopoly, the price of fish is very
much increased ; and the resources of the poor who live on the
coast, and who generally subsist to a considerable extent upon this
species of food, are proportionably diminished.
The Orphan Asylum of this city, owes its origin to the un
wearied efforts and philanthropy of the celebrated Franke. He
published, about a century since, a minute account of the rise and
progress of this institution ; an account which exhibits in a most
extraordinary manner the influence of effort and unv^earied reso
lution, in erecting one of the noblest establishments which has
ever benefited mankind. As it was the custom in Halle for the
benevolent to distribute their alms to the poor on a particular day.

278 HALLE.
Franke when chosen pastor of Glaucha, one of the suburbs of that
city, desired the poor every Thursday to come to his house, to
receive temporal assistance and religious instruction. As the
number of applicants increased beyond his means of reliering
them, he placed a charity box in his house, to receive the contri
butions of those who were friendly to this object. Some unknown
person having given four or five dollars, Franke relates that he
said to himself "this is a considerable sum, I will-apply it to the
foundation of a charity school." Nearly half of this he expended
in purchasing books ; but of the twenty-seven given to the chil
dren, only four were returned ; the others being kept or disposed
of. As he found many of the children but little benefited by their
instruction, the impressions made upon their minds while in school,
being obliterated when absent, he formed the plan of selecting
some of them, and placing them in a separate edifice, where they
might be educated and maintained apart from the world. This
was the foundation of the celebrated orphan school of HaUe, which
for extent, the number of its pupils, and the 'influence it has
exerted in the world, is without a parallel in the history of Prussia.
Several persons having afterwards given him 1400 rix dollars to
promote this object, a small house was purchased, where twelve
orphans were placed, under the direction of one of the theological
students. As the number of applicants increased, he resolved to build a
house for their reception, with the firm belief that God would
bless him in his exertions. The edifice was commenced in 1698,
and nearly finished in one year. The difficulties he experienced
in the erection of this hospital, were such as would have discouraged
any one but Franke. Many of these he mentions, but he went on
with his work, relying on the providence of God, to which, he
says, our care for a future supply was faithfully committed. In his
greatest depression, he always fovmd unexpected relief, his prayer
often being answered on the very day, and sometimes the very
hour, that it had been uttered. In one instance he relates, that the
resources of the establishment were so nearly exhausted, that he
knew not where to find the means necessary for supporting it
another week. In this dilemma, a person sent him, anonymously,
one thousand crowns. On another occasion, when no means

ORPHAN ASYLUM. 279
were left of supplying the table for another day, he found, he says,
one comfort, a presence of mind in prayer, with a confident
dependence on the Lord, " who hears the ravens when they cry.''
Just as.he had finished his supplication, an acquaintance presented
him with a letter and a small package, containing fifty crowns. In
February, 1699, when all his means were exhausted, and the poor
orphans were crying to him for bread, he reflected upon that
passage of Scripture, "seek first the kingdom of God, and his
righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you." As he
gave, his last coin, he said in his thoughts, " look, look upon my
necessity." Leaving his study, to repair to his lecture-room, he
found a student in his house, who handed him seventy crowns,
sent by some distant persons. On another occasion, when in
similar need, he says he found himself deeply affected with the
fourth petition of our Lord's prayer, " give us this day our daily
bread." His thoughts, he observes, rested particularly on the
words "this day," for we greatly wanted it. While he was
praying, a friend brought him four hundred crowns. In his account
of the origin and progress of this establishment, Franke relates
many other cases of relief, equally remarkable with those just
specified. Though this institution was originally designed. for orphans, the
poor, the lame, and those who had been very unfortunate, were
received there. Religious instruction was given to them for several
hours each day. The poor theological students of the university
were here provided with a table, and a part , of their time was
employed in giving instruction to the poor. In 1714, the number
of persons supported at this institution, amounted to four hundred
and sixty. . With' this establishment were united a great number of
schools for the instruction of the poor of the city, as well as.
a Latin school, and a library. The most important part of it
however, was the printing establishment. Of tne origin of this,.
professor Franke gives a very minute account, of which the-
following is the substance. In 1710, Charles Hildebrand, baron
of Canstein, proposed to Franke, that a sufficient number of types;
should be cast, to correspond with each letter of the Bible, and
that being arranged, they should be preserved in that form. This
plan, which probably gave the fiwrt hint towards the subsequent

280 HALLE.
discovery of stereotyping, was carried into execution two years
after, and the New Testament was published. Subsequently, the
whole Bible appeared, and both were sold at so moderate a price,
as to be within the reach of most of the lower classes of society.
This part of the printing establishment continued active, long after
tlje death of professor Franke, which took place in 1727. In
about a century from its foundaition, more than two millions of
Bibles, and one million copies of the New Testament had been
printed and sold at this institution. Soon after the commence
ment of the Tranquebar mission, a fount of Malabar types was
procured, and parts of the Bible were printed in that language.
One of the theological students, who had learned the art of
printing in this institution, accompanied by a printer of Leipzig,
soon sailed for Tranquebar, to join the celebrated missionary,
Ziegenbalgh, and in a short time after their arrival, the New
Testament appeared in the' language of southern Hindostan.
Classical works, and several others in the Russian and other
languages, subsequently appeared from the press of the orphan
house. This building is in the form of three sides of a parallelogram,
two of which are more than eight hundred feet in length. There
are now about one hundred orphans here, who are supported from
the funds of the institution, and from the yearly donation of the
king of Prussia. The press, is very active, and still prints standard
works, particularly those used in the schools, at a very moderate
price. How much does such a character as that of Franke, rise
above those who are usually admired ! With what serenity must
he have looked back upon his life, and with how much truth
could he have said, I have finished my course with joy !

281

LETTER XVII.

Halle, 1826.

I PROMISED you some time since, an account of the present state
of religion in the Protestant church of Germany. The difficulties
attending its preparation are so great, that I have often almost
resolved to omit it entirely. For at the outset of his labours, the
traveller finds but few publications from which he can derive any
satisfactory information. The Germans themselves also have a
very imperfect knowledge of the subject, or are unwilling to com
municate it to others. Germany is divided into thirty-five distinct
governments, besides the four free cities, and these divisions add
not a little to his embarrassment. In those divisions also, in which
the Catholic religion predominates, it is next to an impossibility
for a stranger to gain much definite information, respecting the
state of Protestantism. In this letter I shall confine myself prin
cipally to the churches of Prussia.
In Prussia there are but five sects ; the Jews, the Mennonites,
the Catholics, the Reformers, or those who belong to the Reformed
church, and the Lutherans. In 1817, there were 127,345 Jews,
in 1822, nearly 150,009. In the former year, there were 15,333
Mennonites, in the latter not quite fifteen thousand. The Catholics
in 1817 amounted to 4,023,513, and in 1822, to 4,422,873. The
Protestants, in 1817, exclusive of the Mennonites, were 6,370,380,
and in the last mentioned period they had ipcreased to almost
7,100,000. At the time of my leaving Berlin, the census for
1825 had not been published. The accounts which have been
given you of the census of Prussia for that year, were written
down from the lectures of the professor of statistics, in the Berlin
university ; but as I was not present when he gave a numerical
statement of the sects of this country, I can only refer r you ^0 a
comparison of their proportional increase, from 1817 to 1822, to
37

282 MENNONITES.
form a pretty accurate idea of their numbers the last year, when
the whole population amounted to 12,003,810 inhabitants. During
my residence in Prussia, I made unwearied efforts to gain accurate
information on this subject, but my success was not answerable to
my anticipations. My information is principally derived from
conversations with the clergy, and the professors of the universities.
The Jews here are almost exclusively Rabbinnical in their
creed. Most of them reside in Prussia Poland, though they are
to be found in siUall numbers in all the large towns. Those living
in the metropolis are more intelligent, and less intolerant than
most of the Israelites of the present day.
The Mennonites form a distinct sect in most of the German
states. They are the followers of Simon Menno, who was born in
Frieslandin 1505, and died in 1581. At the age of thirty-one, he
renounced the CathoUc religion, and soon after travelled through
Holland, Germany, and Russia. In these countries he assembled
the Anabaptists, forming them into congregations. He introduced
a severe discipline into his churches, and by his talents and exam
ple, soon acquired many followers. They still exist in consider
able numbers in Holland, Switzerland, and Russia. In the former
country there were in 1823, 85,000, in the latter, 6000. In
Germany they are much less numerous than formerly.
The Mennonites esteem it unlawful to take an oath, either of
allegiance, or in the courts of justice. They refuse to fight for
the defence of the country, and reject infant baptism, but baptize
all who have arrived at adult years. Previous to the administration
of this ordinance, they are not permitted to come to the sacra
ment, but afterwards they are allowed to partake of it ; as baptism
is also a substitute for confirmation. Most of them perform this
ceremony by sprinkling, though a small minority insist upon three
immersions. The Mennonites are not unanimous in their opinions,
some being much more strict than others in their creed and
discipline. For vicious conduct, they excommunicate any one of
their members. Those who practise immersion, allow no other
baptism to be vaUd ; and if a Mennonite, who has been sprinkled,
wishes to unite with them, he must be immersed before they will
receive him. There are several congregations of this sect in
Dttnsig, and in the vicinity of that city ; who, with the Mennonites

MENNONITES. 283
of Switzerland and Flanders, belong to the strictest class. They
carry their bigotry to such a degree, as to excommunicate any one
of their members who is married to one who is not of their sect.
Formerly they w.ore a particular dress, though at the present time few
of them retain this »utward mark of sectarianism. In Switzerland,
particularly on the Jura mountains, there are a few congregations
who esteem it unlawful to wear buttons on their clothes, fastening
their coats with hooks and eyes as a substitute. They are called
Hefter, from the German word Heften, to fasten. These indivi
duals, with a few of the Mennonites of Prussia, still believe it
unlawful to shave, wearing their beards as long as those of the
French drum-majors. The Mennonites universally condemn
luxury in furniture and dress ; and those who live in Danzig and
its vicinity, formerly excommunicated all those who had their
pictures taken. This latter article of their creed, however, was
expunged some years since.
The majority of the Mennonites live in the villages, and there
are no congregations in the towns, except in Danzig, and in one
or two other cities. Among these some have acquired considerable
fortunes ; and of this class a^ few, from their comparative liberality
towards other sects and from their superior style of living, are re
garded as unbelievers by their brethren. They are not thought by
other sects to be distinguished for their piety ; not that they are
very often openly immoral^ but they are represented as being much
more desirous of laying up for themselves earthly treasures, than
those which will never fade. As a sect, they are industrious and
wealthy. They were visited a few years since by a Mr. Bott and
Mr. Ancas, who were sent out by a society in England, to examine
their churches. Since that time, they have united themselves with
the. Baptist missionary society of England, and have placed their
contributions, as I have been informed, at the disposal of that body.
You will observe by their relative numbers in 1817 and 1822, that
they have decreased a few hundreds, and the cause of this decrease
was the severe fines they have been compelled to pay, for not per
forming military ser'vice. The laws of Prussia require every man
to serve three years in the army. The government fearing, if thi»
sect were , to be exempted on account of their creed, that not a
small number of the young Prussians might join them to avoid this

284 ^ CATHOLICS.
odious service, passed a law soon after the battle of Waterloo, that
every one who refused to enter the army, should pay a very heavy
penalty. Sorne of our own citizens would undoubtedly, like many
of the Germans, regard this law as an outrage upon the rights of
conscience and the purse. As the existence o*f Prussia, as a king
dom, depends on her army, the government find no difficulty in jus-"
tifying this coercive measure.
The CathoUcs reside principally in the Rhine provinces, in Si
lesia, and in Prussian Poland. In common with all other sects,
they enjoy the same rights as the Lutherans. There are two Arch
bishops, at Cologne and Posen, who stand at the head of this
church ; the former directing its concerns in that part of Prussia
which borders the Rhine, and the latter in Silesia and Prussian
Poland. They are, however, subjected to the supervision of the
Minister of ecclesiastical affairs ; but the limits of his authoritj' are
prescribed by the treaty made a few years since between the Prus
sian government and the Pope. Monachism still exists in this
country. Most of the convents (of which there are sixty-nine for
monks, and twenty-one for nuns,) are in Silesia, in Prussian Poland,
or near the Rhine. As a body, the Catholics are much more en
lightened than their brethren in southern Germany.
The Reformed church is less flourishing than it was a century since.
In 1817, there were less than three hundred thousand persons be
longing to it, and since that period they have considerably dimin
ished. During that year, Frederick William made an effort to
unite the Lutheran and Reformed churches of Prussia ; and gave
to the new body the name of the Evangelical church. Many
individual churches of each sect have been thus united, but what
proportion I have found it impossible to ascertain. Others have
partially enrolled themselves under the banners of the Evangelical
church, and congregations have been then separated into two parts.
Where these churches have thus been divided, as many have been,
in the province of East Prussia, and if I mistake not in one or two
other provinces, those remnants of the Reformed congregations
which are unable to maintain a clergyman, are visited occasionally
by preachers of their own denominatipn, who perform divine ser
vice and administer the sacrament.

REFORMED CHURCH. 285
The approved books of this church are the Heidelberg Cate
chism, and the Decision of the Synod of Dortrecht. The dress of
the clergy, the rules respecting ordination, confirmation, baptism
and festivals, are the same as in the Lutheran. The service dif
fers from that of the latter in minutiae only. In one of them, when
repeating the Lord's prayei', they say, " Vater unSer"^— Father of
us ; and also, " erlbse uns von dem Uebel," deliver us from evU, or
the evil ; in the other, " Unser Vater," our Father ; and " erlbse
uns von dem Bbsen," deliver us from the evil one, or the Devil.
The Lutheran clergy use wafers in administering the Sacrament,
while the reformed reject them, making use of bread. The Evan-
geUcal church has endeavoured to unite the two modes by introdu
cing long wafers, which they break.
Predestination, as taught by Calvin, was formerly believed exten
sively by the clergy and laity of the Reformed church, and by the
Lutherans to some extent. To prevent this heresy, as the latter
sect esteemed it, from gaining ground, the theological professors
of Leipzig and Jena during the latter half of the 16th century, pre
pared a work entitled Formula Concofdiae, which was afterwards
adopted as one of the approved books of the Lutheran church.
This has not however entirely succeeded in eradicating this "here
sy" from either church. This doctrine is still believed and preached
by the clergy of Elberfield, and by some of those residing in"&e
province - of Kleve Berg on the Rhine. In the Reformed church,
however, it is now much less generally received than formerly, the
number who believe it, being relatively but little greater than in
the Lutheran.
In the Lutheran church it is the custom for parents to make a
present to the clergyman, who officiates at the confirmation of their
children, but in the Reformed, this is never done. In almost all
the churches of the former sect, a picture is placed over the altar,
delineating some one of the great events'.of ' our Saviouri's life, or
of one of the Apostie's. A crucifix, with two wax candles, is also
placed on the altar of every church. These ornaments have not
been admitted into the Reformed churches, as they are regarded
' by them as remnants of the Catholic religion, for which they
entertain very little respect. After the sermon and confession are
ended, the clergyman of the Lutheran church sings a short prayer,

286 LUTHERAN CHURCH.
standing with his face to the altar, and his back to the congrega
tion ; the manner of singing being almost exactly the same, as in
the CathoUc mass at the Quirinal. All the congregation then sing.
Amen, dwelling upon it nearly a minute. He then turns to the
audience, and sings the benediction which Aaron pronounced when
he blessed the children of Israel : " The Lord bless thee and keep
thee ; the Lord make his face shine upon thee and be gracious unto
tliee ; the Lord lift up his countenance upon thee and give thee
peace." The congregation then respond with an Amen, dweUing
upon it as before. The firstpart of the Lutheran service is not adnut-
ted into the Reformed church. These differences are so smaU and
so unimportant, that they would probably have been long since for
gotten, had not a real obstacle existed, which most of the Reformed
churches have regarded as insufferable : I here refer to the doc
trine of Consubstantiation. The Augsburg confession admits this ;
while the Heidelberg catechism rejects it. This is the principal
reason why the Reformed church has always refused to unite irith
the Lutheran, and this is the great obstacle in the minds of those
who refuse to join the Evangelical church. In the Lutheran, there
are very few who believe this doctrine at the present time, probably
not one in a hundred. It remains, however, a part of their autho
rized catechism and creed ; and until it is expunged, many of the
Reformers, as they are called, will be very unwilling to unite with
them. There is something, also, in the word Reformed, which,
from its import, as well as its antiquity when applied to then-
church, has a tendency to attach them strongly to their indepen
dent existence.
The Lutheran church is much the most numerous, and contains
more than half of the population of the kingdom. I will now
endeavour to present you as accurate a picture of it as I can
draw, under the following outlines, although it is far from being
as satisfactory as could be wished :
1. Confirmation. Every child must be confirmed. At thirteen
years of age, he is sent by his parents to the clergyman of the
parish to which he belongs, to inform him that he is old enough
to receive religious instruction preparatory to confirmation.
As soon as the class of children immediately preceding have
been confirmed, all those who have reached the age of thirteen

LUTHERAN CHURCH. 287
years, are required to repair, once a week, to the house of their
pastor, to receive from him that instruction in the great doctrines
of their church, which is indispensible to ' admission within its
P9.le. They are thus taught two hours every week during the
year, excepting the six weeks previous to their confirmation,
when they are instructed four hours weekly. No one is permitted
to partake of the sacrament, who has not passed a year in this
preparatory course. To communicate theological knowledge in
this manner, is as much the duty Of a Lutheran clergyman, as
preaching or baptism. It is given gratuitously, and at the end of
the year the children are examined, and if found to possess the
necessary acquaintance with religious truth, a certificate is given
them that they haVe passed through the course necessary to church
membership, when they are publicly confirmed. It is illegal,
however, to confirm them before fourteen* years of age, though
in a few cases, from inattention of the parents, or from some
other cause, they are not confirmed until fifteen or sixteen.
Confirmation usually, if not always, with the exception of Palm
Sunday, takes place on a week day. The ceremony is similar, if
I mistake not, in all the churches. The following description of
it is drawn from a confirmation, at which I was present in Berlin.
The candidates for this rite, first sing for about half an hour, when
the clergyman makes a prayer. After the prayer is ended, he
preaches a sermon, addressed particularly to the children, exhibit
ing the great blessings resulting to themselves and to the world;
from the introduction of the Christian religion; the duties devolving
upon them from this public avowal of their belief in Christianity,
&c. They then approach in pairs, and kneel before him ; when
placing his hands on their heads, he blesses them, saying, " May
the Lord bless thee and keep thee ; the Lord make his face shine
upon thee and be gracious unto thee ; the Lord lift up his counte
nance upon thee and give thee peace." After all of them have
* In Hanover, and I belifeve in some other German states, young girls,
neither enter into society, nor curl their hair, until the day they are to be con
firmed. To this day they look forward with as much interest, as does the
students in one of our colleges, to the reception of his diploma, which is to be
his passport into the busy scenes of life.

288 LUTHERAN CHURCH.
received this benediction, they enter the sacristy, and write their
names in the church records, after which the clergyman gives them
a certificate of confirmation, and on the succeeding Sabbath they
partake of the sacrament.
II. BAPTISM. This ordinance is administered at any time the
parents may desire, during the first six weeks after the birth of the
child. This rite is usually performed in the churches, but occa
sionally in the houses of the parents. When administered in the
church, the child is always presented by the nurse, the parents
being rarely, if ever present, and although present, they are always
represented by a godfather and godmother. When it takes place
in the house of the parents, they are usually witnesses of the cere
mony, but all promises respecting the child are made by sponsors.
Baptism is usually administered on a week day ; rarely, if ever,, on
the sabbath, unless at private houses. The clergyman supports the
head of the child with his left hand,iis body resting on his left arm ;
and the face of the infant being held downwards, the water is
poured from a cup, or from the palm of the hand, on the back of
the head. This is not, perhaps, the universal mode of performing
the rite, but in every instance where I have been present, it has
been administered in this manner. If one of the parents is a Pro
testant, and the other a Catholic, the sons are baptized by a cler-
gyrrtan of the same religious persuasion as the father, and the
daughters by one of the church to which the mother belongs. No
Jew can receive baptism, until after the consent of the consistory
has been obtained,, and this cannot be given, until from the poUce
of the place where he resides, satisfactory evidence has been pro
cured of his being . a moral man, and a peaceable citizen. The
administration of baptism is universal in the -Lutiieran church, as
all parents are required by law to present their cliiidren williin six
weeks after their birth. The. Lutherans, and thosebelonging to
the Reformed church, consider this as the passport, and indeed, as
the only one to the name of a Christian ; and that without it, no one
is worthy of receiving this appellation. In conversing a few days
since, with one who was not distinguished for his theological
researches, I informed him that some of tiie sects in our country,
baptized only the children of those who had made a public profes
sion of reUgion. He seemed much surprised, and said, " a large

LtTHERAM CHURCM. 289
number of your countrymen then must be Heathen." " "Why so ?"
was my reply. " Because they have not been baptized," was the
answer. III. The Lord's Supper. This ordinance is administered to all
those, who, after they have been confirmed, express a wish to par
take of it. On such Occasions it iS necessary to go to the sacristy
of the church one or two days before, and write your name. Tlhe
sacrament is always administered immediately after the service is
ended. When there are two clergymen, they both officiate stand
ing on the sides of the altar, whither the communicants advance
in pairs to the clergyman, who distributes the bread, and who
salutes them as they approach. He then presents it to them say
ing ; " This is the body which was broken for you, &c." They
then proceed behind the altar to the other clergyman, who hands
them the cup, and says before they partake of it ; " This is the
blood of the New Covenant, «&c." The clergymen distribute the
emblems alternately. After the males have all partaken, the
females, having taken off their bonnets, then advance in pairs to
the altar ; and the ceremony in both cases is precisely the same.
This mode is very slow, requiring several hours where the
communicants are numerous ; and is exceedingly inconvenient
during the winter, as the churches in the cities of this country,
like those of France and Italy, have usually stone pavements,
instead of floors. During the whole ceremony the choir of the
church sing, making a small pause while the preacher is address
ing the communicants. Each one, after leaving the altar to go
into the church, drops a piece of money into a box, which is
placed there to receive their contributions. There is something
so terrestrial in the effect produced by the jingling which strikes
upon your ear during the address of the clergyman, that the solem
nity of this ordinance is not a little diminished. In all the Lu
theran churches where I have been present, you see five or six
men during the time the congregation are singing, busily engaged
in moving long poles with satin bags attached to them, over the
heads and between the bodies of the worshippers ; while the rat-
* I use the word church here in opposition to the altar, which is separated
from the body of the church by a railing, like the altar of the tribune in
Catholic cathedrals.
38

290 LUTHERAN CHURCH.
tling of groschen reminds you of your banker, quite as much as
of the house of God. This perhaps is fastidiousness on my part ;
but be this as it may, there are few sounds which affect my ear
more unpleasantly.
Many of the Lutherans partake of the sacrament several times
a year ; some only once ; and others very rarely, perhaps never,
during life, after their confirmation. It is administered every
Sunday, if' any persons have previously written their names on a
paper kept in the sacristy, expressing a desire to receive it.
There are many sabbaths, however, when no such wish having
been expressed, this ordinance is not celebrated. You will observe
from this statement, that the word church has an entirely different
signification with the Lutherans, from that which is given to it by
most of the denominations of our country. The church here
means every one who believes in the Lutheran creed ; or, in other
words, who has been confirmed by a Lutheran clergyman. To
be confirmed, it is only necessary to understand theoretically, the
most important doctrines contained in the approved books of faith
and discipline, and to be acquainted with the Bible. Though the
Lutheran church admits the doctrine of regeneration, this change
is not considered necessary to confirmation. Many clergjmen, in
their religious instructions to the children previous to the celebra
tion of this rite, explain to them without doubt the duties that wiU
devolve upon them by the subsequent avowal of their beUef in
Christ, as the Saviour of the world ; but at so early an age, it is
almost impossible for the child, however faithfid the teacher may
be, to form an adequate idea of the nature of that covenant which
he makes with his Redeemer. It is probably owing to this, that
so many persons entirely neglect the sacrament during most of
their lives, especially as confirmation is considered by most of
them as tantamount to discipleship. This preparatory course of
instruction is indeed an admirable regulation, and might be intro
duced into all our American churches with the happiest results.
It is received, however, at too early an age in the Luther<in church;
for no child of fourteen is capable of deriving half the benefit
which he would probably receive when at the age of eighteen or
twenty. In the one case he is the mere recipient of certain doc
trines that are merely impressed upon his memory ; in the other

LUTHERAN CHURCH. 291
he acquires, to say the least, an intellectual view of the great
truths of religion, and is often prompted by the interest they excite
to make investigations for himself. As it is practised here, a
hereditary belief is all that is acquired ; and with the reception of
confirmation, while every one considers himself as belonging to
the church of Christ, he rarely reflects afterwards upon the danger
of coming unworthily to the communion table.
As there is no visible church, there are at the same time no
church meetings for prayer ; and no opportunities are presented to
that body for making a united effort in the cause of religion. No
one ascertains, unless by accident, that there are others 'whose
sentiments on this subject may correspond with his own. If there
is an unusual interest felt on the subject of religion, it is not the
result of effort ; and then there is no rallying point where they may
meet to promote it. The mode of Uving in Europe renders this still
more difficult. Theliouses on the continent are several times as large
as those in the United States ; and rarely does a single family occu
py more than one story, and often only a part of one. They live
within themselves to such a degree, as for years to be ignorant of
the occupation, and often of the names, of those dwelling under
the same roof. No one asks what Nhis neighbour is doing; and
unless the latter possesses more than usual curiosity, he recipro
cates this politeness with equal indifference. An American can
form no idea of this retirement. 1 have lived for months in many
of the cities of Europe, without even knowing the face of an indi
vidual inhabiting the same building, except those bf the family of
whom my rooms were hired, and of the porter. From this com
parative retirement, two persons equally interested in the subject
of religion, may inhabit the same mansion for years, and continue
perfect strangers ; and should a few individuals residing in the
same or in different houses meet regularly for private prayer, they
may be entirely ignorant that any similar assembly exists in the
city. As they have no visible chUrch, they have no regular ac
counts of the state of religion throughout the kingdom. The
government receives, without doubt, annual reports of the number
of children confirmed ; but these I believe are never published, as
I have never heard of them ; and were these made known, they
would furnish the only means of forming an idea of the state of

393 LUTHERAN CHURCH.
reUgion. "What is the present state of the Lutheran church;"
has been asked by me perhaps fifty times. " We have no means
of ascertaining," was the universal answer.
IV. Discipline. As all belong to the church by confirmation,
it is impossible, at the present time, for the clergymen who are
desirous, of introducing discipline, to persuade the people to
consent to it. Were the majority of the nation to desire it, the
consent of the government must first be procured, for by them aU
laws are enacted relating to reUgion. Prussia has so long enjoyed
the greatest latitude of creed, that the monarch would find it
almost impossible to carry such a law into execution. In the
beginning of the last century, there was a severe discipline in
both the Lutheran and Reformed churches. Frederick WiUiam I.
then published a law, that all persons guilty of theft, adidtery,
fornication, blasphemy, profanity, &c. should make a public con
cession. The offender was required to go to the house of the
clergyman, and confess his sin, and then follow him to the church.
After the sermon and prayer were ended, the preacher addressed
the congregation in these words ; " Beloved brethren, there is now
standing before you an individual named N. N., who has committed
the grievous sin of  , and because this offence is burdensome
to you, we ¦will supplicate the Father of mercies for this fallen
sinner." He then asked the following questions, which the
offender was requiied to answer standing.
1st. I ask thee N. N., whether thou hast broken the 
command, and hast offended the weak, and troubled the contrite 1
Answer. Yes.
2d. Art thou sorrowful on account of this sin, 'and 'wilt thou be
reconciled again with the Almighty God ? Answer. Yes.
3d. Art thou convinced that the aU-merciful God, sent Jesus
Christ into the world, to seek those who are lost, and receivest
thou the grace and the life which he has acquired with a beliering
heart? Answer. Yes.
4th. Hast thou resolved in earnest to mend thy wicked life 1
Answer. Yes.
The preacher then said, " May the eternally gracious God, who
has no pleasure in the death of tlie sinner, be gracious and merciful
unto thee, and forgive thy sin." He then declared that he wag
received again as a member of that church.

LUTHER Al» CHURCH. 293
Frederick Ihe great in the year 1746, entirely abolished public
confessions ;( assigning as a reason, that it rather embittered than
improved the heart of the individual, besides giving rise to scandal,
and to other evils that were still greater. As a substitute he
ordered that when any such offence had been committed, the
clergyman should take one of his brethren with him, go to the
house of the individual, and without making it known, should
warn him in private, and exhort him to lead a better life. The
confession thus made, the clergyman was required to keep secret.
If he divulged it, his place was forfeited. Since that period, there
has not been a public confession in the Lutheran church of Prussia.
A few of the clergy still lament that the law enacted by Frederick
WilUam I. has been abolished ; the great majority of them, how
ever, think this statute much too severCi A few, 'with whom I
have conversed, are very .desirous of seeing confirmation abolished,
and their church placed, as to membership, on the same footing
with the Presbyterian ,in our country. Most of them, however,
are very much opposed to such an alteration, and say, that " as
God knows who are his people, this is not necessary." Public
confessions have not only ceased in the LiUtheran and Reformed
churches in Prussia, but also throughout all the German states.
An instance occurred in Wiirtemberg about forty years ago. Since
that time there has not been a single instance of public confession
in either of these churches in Germany, In a chiirch like the
Lutheran, where children are confirmed at fourteen years of age,
and that too from the influence of custom and of law, such a
regulation as the public, confession enacted by Frederick William I.
is excessively severe. Many of the large cities are now so corrupt,
that were this law to be revived, and to become universal in its
application, the clergy would find not a small part of their time
employed in attending to its enforcement.
V. Festivals. In the Lutheran church there are many festivals,
though few in comparison w;ith those in the CathoUc. The three
greatest are O.estern, or Easter, Weinacht, or Christmas, and Pfing-
sten, or Whitsuntide. Each of these lasts two days. During
these, as well as the other festival days, divine service is performed
in thp churches, to which about one-tenth part of the population
resort. The shops are closed while the churches are open, but
can be opened during the rest of the day. The other festivals are,

294 LUTHERAN CHURCH.
Charfreitag, or good Friday.
Busstag, a day for fasting and prayer. This has been declared
by the government to be one of the great festivals of the church.
Balls and other amusements, which were previously allowed, are
forbidden. On this day the moral law is preached, particulBrly in
its reference to Christianity.
Todtenfeiertag. This festival has been estahlished within a few
years, to keep alive the recollection of their deUverance from
bondage, as well as the memories of those who perished in breaking
the yoke of Napoleon. In every church in Prussia, the names of
those who died in this struggle are painted in large letters on
tablets, which are suspended against the walls. As the fourth of
July* was the day of the second capitulation of Paris, the king
has ordered, that this festival shall be held at that time, and be
ushered in by the ringing of bells. The altars of the churches
are then dressed in black, and the children of all the schools are
required to go in procession to the church, singing a hymn. The
clergymen are ordered tO' preach from the 1st of Maccabees, 9-10
making allusion to those who fell in that holy contest in such a
manner, as to awaken patriotic feelings in the hearts of their
auditors. Himmelsfahrtsfest, or the Ascension day. This, by a royal
order, dated 1789, is declared to be one of the great festiyals.
There is also a festival which is held on the Sabbath, soon after
the harvest has been gathered. This corresponds 'with the
Thanksgiving day of the New England states.
Palm Sunday is also observed. The children are not unfre
quently confirmed at this time.
Busstag is another of their festivals. On this day the sacrament
is administered to great numbers.
If I mistake not, these are all the festivals in the Lutheran
church of Prussia. In Saxony, however, there are many more,
which are still observed in Saxon Prussia. There, and in Saxony,
the four great festivals of Easter, Christmas, Busstag, and \Miit-
suntide, continue three days each. The first day is observed as a
''' It is a singular coincidence, that the Prussians should celebrate their day
of freedom, as^ they style it, on the same day that we commemorate the
independence of our own country.

LUTHERAN CHURCH. 295
day of- repentance, the second as a day of fasting, and the third as
a day of prayer. All the Prussian festivals are observed in Saxony,
excepting the Todtenfeiertag. Besides there are
Griin DonneYstag, established in commemoration of the day
when our Saviour instituted the ordinance of the supper. This
in Prussia is not considered as one of the legal festivals, though
divine service is performed, and the sacrament is administered.
Johannistag. This festival was established in honour of John
the Baptist.
Mariaverkiindigungstag, or Annunciation's' day.
Mariaempf'dngnisstag, or Conception day.
Die Heiligendreikbnigetag, the three holy King's day. This is
in commemoration ' of the wise men of the east, who came. to.
Bethlehem fo see the Saviour who was to be born. How the
Saxons learned that there were but three, and that they were
monarchs, Iain ignorant. The three last mentioned festivals are,
also "observed in the Catholic church.
Michaelis, or Michaelmas, is extensively observed.
There are two other festivals obseryed in Saxony, and all
include more than .twenty days in the 'year. Though there are
many more days of this character observed in the Catholic church
of Spain, and in some parts of Italy, the number in Bavaria will
not greatly exceed. this. It is a singular fact, that the Catholic
church in Saxony has not not so many religious festival^ as the
Lutheran. "This, it is believed, is the only example in the history
of Protestantism. The festivals of the Lutheran church of Ger
many exert, an auspicious influence, so far as they draw the
inhabitants to public worship, but the impressions tliere made are
counteracted by the amusements which always succeed, them when
the weather is pleasant. In the cities,, only a small part of the
inhabitants observe them^^in a religious manner; in the villages,,
the proportion is greater. The time thus lost in 'Saxony, is threes
fourths of a month. Were these days passed industriously, there-
would be a great difference in the temporal prosperity of the
people. I say lost, because to a great extent they are mere days
of amusement, because also a religious festival, which is not
obsferved, almost invariably exerts , an influence unfriendly to
morality. , But, although Protestant Germany has gone to one

296 LUTHERAN CHURCH-
extreme, in some of the churches of the United States we have
vibrated to the other, in our total neglect of these days. Our
Puritanical ancestors, under the influence of persecution, concluded
that every thing which belonged to the English church was of
course defective, and accordingly abolished every festival. They
shunned Charybdis, and struck against Scylia. We celebrate
the anniversary of that day when we declared ourselves free from
the yoke of Britain, with beUs, and cannon, and songs, while that
day, which gave moral liberty to mankind, is by many sects
forgotten. We carouse on the birth-day of our great poUtical
liberator; but how many congregations are there, which never
assemble to commemorate the natal day of Him, who broke the
fetters of death, and rose triumphant over the grave. "What, if we
cannot ascertain the day with certainty; should it be for this reason
neglected ? We should not adhere so closely to the letter, but
endeavour to feel a little more of the spirit of thanksgiving for
that atonement, which offers to us a deliverance from a bondage,
infinitely more galling than all temporal slavery. The Lutheran
gentlemen with whom I have conversed on this subject, could
hardly believe me, when they were told, that even Christmas was
not a festival in the congregation churches of our country. They
seemed almost inclined to ask, why we called ourselves Christians.
VI. Government. All the tranches of the Protestant church of
Prussia, are under the direction of the Minister of Ecclesiastical
affairs. In each of the ten departments there is a Consistory,
composed' of a number of clergymen and several of the laity.
These bodies have powers nearly corresponding %vith those of the
bishops in the Catholic church. They each consist of from seven
to nine persons, besides the president, who is always appointed by
the king. They choose new members to fiU the vacancies which
may ' occur, but the choice is null, unless approved of by the
monarch. , They meet several times a week, and receive their
maintenance from the government, and always hold their sessions
in ' the . capitals of the provinces or departments. All questions
relating to the internal concerns of the church, are here discussed,
and the examination of theological candidates, as well as of the
young men who are desirous of instructing in some of the higher
schools, take place in .presence of this body. Each province

LUTHERAN CHURCH. 297
of the kingdom is divided into an indefinite number of dioceses,
depending very much upon its extent and population. Over each
of these dioceses a superintendent is appointed, from those of the
clergy who are distinguished for talents ~ and learning. He is
always chosen by the consistory, and has a special superintendence
of the parishes and schools within his jurisdiction. He is much
of the time on the wing, for he is required to examine all the
schools, and hear all the clergymen preach who reside within the
diocese. If either the clergy or instructers are deficient in their
duty, he apprises the general superintendent, who informs the
consistory in the annual report which he makes to that body. In
Saxony he has also an oversight of the gymnasia. Each province
has one general superintendent. In each of the small dioceses there
is a synod, consisting of the clergy of that district, whose powers
are very limited ; since while they meet and converse like many
other ecclesiastical bodies, they rarely do any thing more.
Each diocese has also an inspector, whose business it is to
examine the churches, and make their reports to the consistory,
from whom he receives his appointment. He has also an eye
over the young theological candidates, observing their conduct,
their mode of instructing, and preaching, as well as some other
minor duties of which-I am ignorant.
VII. The Clergy. The clergy of the Lutheran church of
Prussia, are chosen in the following manner :
1. By the King. He has the right of disposing of about one-
third of the parishes in the kingdom.
2. By the Magistrates, that is to say, by the corporations of
the cities. In some of the large towns they have the disposal of
most, if not all ; in others, of only a part. They choose a cler
gyman to fill a vacancy, and after he has preached for a certain
period, they ask the members of the congregation, if they have
any objection tp his being settled as their pastor, and if none are
made, he is soon ordained. It is very rare that any such objections
are made.
3. By the Nobility. They have the right of disposing of many
of the village churches, which they derived in the following
manner. The nobility in this country, formerly built many of the
churches at their own expense, and in return, the government
39

298 LUTHERAN CHURCH.
gave them the privilege of placing those clergymen whom they
should select, over these parishes. This right was made hereditary,
and has continued among their descendants to the present time,
where the estate has remained in the family, but where it has been
disposed of, it has gone with the property to the purchaser.
4. The vacancies in a few of the parish churches are at the
disposal of the consistories. Of the proportion I am ignorant.
5. Some of the congregations, the number, however, is very
small, have the right of choosing their >own clergyman. This
permission they have received from the king, the nobles, or others,
who have resigned it to them.
In vacancies which come under the first four classes, or in
other words, afl those places which are disposed of by patronage,
a clergyman soon after he is invited to officiate, must preach a
Probepredigt, or a sermon of trial, before the parish. If he
belongs to the same consistorial department as the congregation,
the latter must decide within eight days ; if to another, within four
weeks, whether they are willing to receive him as their future
pastor. If they answer in the negative, the question is referred to
the consistory, who decide between them and the patron.
The evil effects resulting from this system of patronage are very
great. Few , of the parishes can ever choose a clergyman after
their own heart. A single individual, the patron, will always have
his favourite, who may not unfrequently be a very unacceptable
spiritual guide to the congregation. When this is the case, aU
hopes of usefulness are mostly at an end. Clergymen, also, who
hold their places, as in Prussia until death, misconduct, or voluntary
removal separates them from their people, will in most instances
be much less faithful in discharging their duties, than when they
hold them at the will of their parishioners. The evils resulting from
this system are however much smaller than those that we see in
England. Here are no non-resident clergymen, who pocket their
five hundred or two thousand pounds a year, with the exception of
the paltry pittance whieh they give to the poor curate; Such an
evil cannot exist, for there is not a clergyman in Prussia who re
ceives tw-o thousand dollars per annum. Were these places seve
ral times as valuable as they now are, we should undoubtedly see
similar results, unless the government should interfere and prevent

LtlTHERAN CHURCH. 299
them. "Where a clergyman is not acceptable to his people, little
or no attachment to him can exist, and of course little will be done
to promote the spiritual welfare of his flock. Noblemen in most
countries, are very apt to believe, that the poor peasantry who are
so far beneath them, are incapable of forming a correct opinion of
the proper qualifications of a pastor. In Prussia, I am convinced
that very few could be found, who would be willing to relinquish
their ¦wishes to those of the peasants, whom they are accustomed
to despise.
The clergy of Prussia are not as in France, and some other coun
tries, supported by the government, but they derive their incomes
from the following sources.
In the towns, there is usually a fund belonging to each parish,
from which they receive a part of their salaries. In the villages,
there is very rarely a fund, but there are almost always a parochial
house and land, the latter of which is seldom less than thirty acres,
and sometimes amounts to one hundred and twenty.
The following are the items of the income of a clergyman, resi
ding in a towii containing three thousand inhabitants. You may
depend upon their accuracy, as they were written down at the time
he communicated them to me. From this detail you can form an
idea of the manner in which they are supported, as well as of the
amount they usually receive, for this may probably be considered
as the average amount of income of most clergymen who live in
towns of about the same population. From the fund 133 Prussian
dollars, donations 30, marriages, funerals and baptisms 80, wood,
and publication of marriages, the latter of which take place as with
us, immediately after the service is ended, 80 dollars, and from
confession money Beichtgeld, from two to three hundred dollars.
It is the custom in the Lutheran church, a short time before the
service is ended, for the preacher to say something like the follow
ing. "All those of you, who with penitent hearts, do freely con
fess your sins, relying on the atoning blood of Christ to purify you,
I hereby declare free from your iniquity." These are not the
words, but if my memory does not deceive me, they contain their
import. In many of the churches it is the custom for some of the
congregation to remain, and afterwards to make a confession to the
clergyman, or at least converse with him on the subject of religion

300 LUTHERAN CHURCH.
as applicable to themselves'; in which they allude to their past con
duct, and at times even reveal it in such a manner, that he is not
left in much doubt as to its nature. Others go to the house of their
pastor, where they converse with him on these subjects. These
confessions are usually very general, though in a few instances
secrets are revealed with but little more reserve, than in the Catho
lic church. There is this difference, however, that in the former
such revelations are voluntary, but in the latter compulsory, as the
priest will never absolve them until they have divulged every thing.
Those which are general in their nature, may possibly be attended
with no evil consequences ; but those which are particular, can not
be productive of much good, either to the speaker or listener. For
hearing these confessions, and for the advice and admonition which
are then given them, they present the pastor ¦with a sum of money
to which they give the name of confession money. This, however,
is entirely voluntary, as there is no^law requiring it except that of
custom. The clergyman who was just alluded to, would not receive
this offering, as he was convinced that it would lessen his influence
among his parishioners. After making many inquiries, I have. never
heard of a similar example of self-denial on the part of the Lutheran
clergymen. The case specified was a noble exhibition of disinter
estedness, as his whole salary, independently of the confession mo
ney, amounted to but three hundred and forty-three Prussian dol
lars and thirty bushels of grain. The Prussian dollar is nearly
seventy-five cents.
In the villages, the clergy receive from two to five hundred dol
lars, including the produce or rent of their parochial land. Pro
duce, and consequently rent, is very low at the present time. Dur
ing the late war, the price of it was so high, that some of the ril-
lage clergymen had incomes amounting to between one thousand
and fifteen hundred dollars. In the cities, the salaries of the
clergy are much greater than in the villages, but they are very
small in comparison with those paid to them in our large to^wns.
Few of the clergy of Berlin receive more than twelve hundred
Prussian dollars, and some of them less than one thousand. The
village pastors find it impossible to live in what we consider a
respectable manner, or in one even indispensable to the character
of the profession. From their comparative poverty, as well as

LUTHERAN CHURCH. 30^
from their humble style of living, their influence on the higher
classes is very limited, as they are thus prevented from coming in
contact with them. Wealth and birth in Germany, perhaps more
than in any other country, form .the boundaries, of society. Ge
nius, when exhibited in any depa,rtment of science or literature, is
a passport to the houses of the nobility, and the popular writers
of the day, are often admitted to these circles, especially when
they possess that external polish so much prized in the fashionable
world. Learned men, however, whose fame does not widely extend
beyond their own professions, are rarely seen in any except literary
circles. The intense application of this class, united with their
want of grace and ease, so completely unfit them for the light flut
tering conversation of high life, that these two classes form the
opposite poles of German society. The insipidity of thought
which flows from the one, is as offensive; and disgusting to the
savant, as are his manners to the butterflies who shine in the soirie.
The professors and the other literati, for this reason, form a dis
tinct class, and rarely associate with the rich or the fashionable.
Fortunately for them, they are sufficiently numerous in the large
cities and the universities, to form a circle for themselves. Such
a separation indeed exists to some extent in all countries, but it is
more ¦visible here than in any land I have seen. It is unfortunate
for all nations, that such a line of demarcation exists, for, could
these extremes be brought in contact, the frivolity of the fashion
able world would cease to be its chief characteristic, and compa
rative grace would succeed that uncouthness of attitude and ad
dress, which is so often visible in literary men. In such a state
of society you would at once conclude that the theological profes..
sion is rarely embraced by the wealthy. In Hanover, where there
are probably fifteen hundred clergymen, there are but three of
noble birth, notwithstaiiding the poor nobility would form a con«
siderable army. In Prussia I have heard of but one who Was a
preacher, and he was designing soon to commence his course as a,
lecturer in the university of Berlin.
VIII. Theological Candidates. Every theological student
who is desirous of obtaining a license to preach, must procure cer
tificates from the university where he was educated, that he has
attended the necessary lecfures for three years ; and if some time

302 LUTHERAN CHURCH.
has elapsed since he left the institution, he must present one also
from the superintendent or from the inspector of the diocese where
he has been residing since that period. These he presents to the
consistory, and by that body he is examined in Hebrew, Greek,
and Latin, grammatically and exegetically, in church history, dog
matical theology, &c. &c. Some weeks before his examination
commences, he receives a text from the consistory, which he must
take as the subject of a sermon, to be preached before them. One
or more dogmatical and exegetical treatises he is required to read
at this time. If he is found upon examination intellectually qualified,
he receives a license to preach. Formerly it was necessary for him
to state his belief in the inspiration of the Old and New Testaments,
but this affirmation is not now required. In some of the German
states, the candidates promise, that they wiU never preach against
any of the doctrines contained in the Augsburg Confession ; but
every one is left to form his own opinion as to the character of the
Bible. The consistory could not with justice require a belief in
Revelation, for not one, in five of the members of those bodies in
Germany believes in the inspiration of the Old Testament, and not
a small number reject that of the New. If a student is not intel
lectually qualified, he is required to pursue his studies a year
longer, if any hope is entertained that he will eventually be com
petent for his station ; but if not, he is advised to abandon all
thoughts of preaching, and to pursue some other employment.
Cases of this kind not unfrequently occur, for the government of
Prussia feel very desirous of elevating the intellectual character of
this, as jv^ell as of the other professions. I have heard it stated,
that there had been one or two instances recently in this country,
where candidates were refused a license on account of their hold
ing heretical opinions, but the truth of this assertion is doubtful,
as the individual who informed me could give no satisfactory in
formation on the subject. There is a law, if I mistake not, stiU in
existence, requiring the consistory to see that the student embraces
this profession from the dictates of conscience, and that he has
proper religious impressions of its duties. As that body interpret
for themselves, the want of belief in revelation is not considered
as incompatible with the law. The great questions with the con
sistory are ; Is his mind sufficiently enUghtened ? Is he capable of

LUTHERAN CHURCH. 303
discharging the duties Incumbeint upon a pastor ? If the answer
is affirmative, the cases are certainly very rare, where a want of
faith would prove any obstacle to his receiving a license. By ex
hibiting this certificate, he is allowed to preach in any of the jiro-
vinces of Prussia.
After a candidate has been licensed for a year, he then presents
himself before the consistory, to be examined pro Ministerio,
provided he has been invited to take the charge of a particular
parish. He exhibits his previous certificates, and brings with him
two sermons, one of which he pronounces before some, at least,
of the members of that body He is then examined in the German
language, in Greek and Hebrew exegesis, in Latin, to ascertain
whether he can speak and write it correctly, in the history of
dogmatical theology, in ecclesiastical history, philosophy, theo
logical literature, the mode of catechising children, in the com
position and delivery of a sermon, &c. &c. If he exhibits a good
knowledge of these subjects, he receives the certificate pro Minis
terio, and Can be immediately Ordained. This second examination
is very similar to the first in relation to the subjects, but is much
more severe. If he is settled within a year from this period, no
other examination is necessary, but if more than a year elapses
previous to his ordination, he is required to appear before the
consistory a third time, and is then examined not on all subjects
above mentioned, but principally on thoso which are exclusively
theological. Thisishoweverratheraconversation, than examination.
Frederick WilUam is said to be a great admirer of the English
church, and he is believed by many of his subjects to be very
desirous of remodelling the Lutheran on a plah similar to the
established church of that country. In 1816, he appointed two
Bishops. This the Prussians consider as the first step taken
towards effecting this object. The individuals selected were Mr.
Sack, one of the court preacher^ of Berlin, and Borowski, the
general superintendent, of Konigsberg, with the title of bishops of
" the evangelical church of Prussia. The reason assigned for their
appointment was, the propriety of rewarding distinguished merit ;
and the monarch declares in his royal ordinance, that this appoint
ment is made without any intention of changing the constitution of
the church. The power of these bishops is not diocesan, neither

304 PROTESTANT CHURCHES.
do they differ in any respect from other clergymen, except in the
precedence which their titles give them, and also in a probable
increase of their salaries. Since that time, two others have been
appointed, whose titles are taken from the towns of Stettin and
Mg,gdeburg. The introduction of these Bishops into the church,
circumscribed as was their power, excited little or no opposition ;
and, so far as I have had an opportunity of judging, neither the
clergy, nor the' laity, have any objections to seeing the number
increased. Since 1817, the king has been making efforts to unite the
Lutheran and Reformed churches. The means proposed to
accomplish this objects, are : a renunciation of the names Lu
theran and Reformed, with the substitution of that of Evangelical,
and the introduction of a liturgy. A considerable number of
churches, in various parts of the kingdom, have thus united, so
far, at least, as to relinquish their old names, and assume that of
Evangelical. Very few, however, are willing to receive the Uturgy
which has been prepared. Even in the metropolis, and directly
under the eye of the monarch, there is but one church, excepting
that of the court, which has received it ; and in none of the other
large towns, is the number greater. For the ¦vUlages, a shorter
liturgy, which is an abstract of the former, has been pubUshed,
and this has been received by a few of the Reformed and Lutheran
churches. This attempt to introduce the liturgy, has met ¦with great
opposition throughout the country. Many pamphlets have been
Written on both sides : those writers, who are desirous of the
royal favour, supporting it ; while those, who have been distin
guished for their unwavering firmness of character, have opposed
it. Among the latter is Schleiermacher, who has published
several pieces, which have not a little strengthened the opposition.
By this step he has incurred the displeasure of Frederick, who
was said to be indignant when he saw the effects of his pamphlets.
Augusti, a professor of Bonn, and Ammon, the court preacher of
Dresden, are the champions in favour of a liturgy ; but they are
considered by the great majority of the Prussians who interest
themselves in this controversy, as having been vanquished. At
the present time the opposition is apparently so strong, that the

LITURGY. 306
monarch will probably be compelled to leave the work which he
has commenced, to be finished by his successors. The Reformed
church seems more willing than the Lutheran to abandon their
old name ; but very few even of the latter are willing to enrol
themselves under the banners of the Evangelical church, if the
liturgy must become their creed. As the questions are entirely
separate, and as the union can be made though the liturgy may be
rejected, it is probable that the king will succeed in the first of
these measures, although his people will long resist the latter ;
and, unless force should be used, will certainly gain the victory' at
last. The power of the monarch is less here than elsewhere.
The Protestants of Prussia have so long enjoyed the greatest
latitude of opinion on the subject of religion, (for their books of
doctrine and discipline are generally considered as the work of an
age much less enlightened than the present,) that they now have
an inveterate aversion to creeds. They would willingly unite, at
least the majority of them, in a creed consisting of a single article,
asserting the existence of God ; and they would, perhaps, admit
another, declaring that the morality of Jesus Christ was purer
than that of any code of morals ever presented to man ;' but, to a
creed containing only these articles, a few would certainly be found
hostile. The modern school of Pantheists would oppose such a creed,
from their own peculiar opinions respecting the nature of the Deity;
and others would object to it, from the fear that its introduction
would prepare the way for one embracing additional articles.
As the books referred to are in reality nearly obsolete, throughout
most, if not all of Germany, few persons are desirous that another-
should be substituted, preferring to live undeir an antiquated creed
of many articles, than under any ^hich is modern, if it consisted of
more than two, unless expressed in the inost general manner.
This is the principal cause of the almost universal opposition to
the liturgy- The power of the king has so long been absolute,
that it is impossible to say what cofirse he will take. He and his
ancestors have always been in the habit of saying, " go, and
come," and implicit obedience has followed the command. He is
now to try the extent of his power on another theatre, one which
will test, in the fullest manner, how far he is completely despotic.
It was currently repoi*tcd; a short time before my departure from
40

306 LITURGY.
Berlin, that he Intended removing Schlelrmacher from his profes
sional chair ; and, to my astonishment, I heard the Prussians say,
"he dare not." The popularity of this preacher and scholar
was so universal, both in the city and the university, as well as
with most men of thought throughout iGermany, that, in fact,
even Frederick WiUiam " did not dare" take such a step. Whether
his subjects were correct or not in their resistance to the liturgy,
every one must judge for himself. The opinion^ which he will
form, will probably depend on the fact, whether he inherits the
sentiments of his fathers; or, whether following the directions of
Christ, to call no man master, 'he forms his theological opinions
for himself, without any reference to those who surround him.*
Since the date of this letter, I have seen it stated in one of the
Paris papers, probably the Journal des Debats, in a letter dated at
Hamburg, in January or February 1827, that the king was resolved
to proceed to extremities. This writer states that the Prussian
government had recently passed a law, forbidding any consistory
to license a theological student, unless he would previously pro
mise, that, as soon as he was settled, he would do all in his power
to introduce the liturgy into his parish. This is taking the most
effectual way to , make it universal. The young theologians are
almost all so poor, that they find it very difficult to support them
selves while acquiring their education ; and when they are pre
pared to receive the charge of their flocks, many of them are almost
pennyless. Between a liturgy and beggary, few minds are indepen
dent enough to waver ; and conscience is often too easily stifled
by the loud cry of necessity. By this statute the number of clergy
in favour of the liturgy wiU soon be made to form a majority, as
every vacancy will be filled by those who approve of it, or whose
acquiescence is extorted. Should the present monarch reach the
age of Frederick the Great, he will probably have the pleasure of
seeingthis great work accomplished. With the army on his side,
* The liturgy which the King is trying to introduce into the churches of
Prussia, is orthodox in the maip, and is one to which 1 could not very strongly
object. My objection is to the compulsory measures to which he resorts,
and in this manner, forcing by his influence and power, many of his subjects
to receive a liturgy in which they do not believe ; in other words, filling the
Lutheran church witli hypocrites.

LITURGY. 307
for a liturgy in a soldier's eyes is of much less importance than
the length of his plume, or the size of his epaulette, — he will be
able to gain his point, without any political opposition. He will,
however, carry with him to his grave an unpopularity among
the reflecting part of his subjects, as deep and as enduring as
ever darkened the evening of a monarch's life. His unwilling
ness to give his subjects the freedom he promised them,.has greatly
lessened the love they once felt for him ; but as they have never
tasted the sweets of civil liberty, he has only withheld a blessing,
which to them had always been ideal. The liberty of thought,
however, they have enjoyed since the Reformation, riiore than any
nation of Europe except Saxony. It was a freedom in which they
gloried ; one which awakened emotions of enthusiasm, when they
contrasted their situation with that of southern Germany, and
southern Europe.
You will easily reaUze from the statement I have here given,
the nature and strength of the opposition of the Prussians to the
liturgy, especially when you remember that the views which all
men form on the subject of religion, hold a place in their affec
tions much more profound, than those on political subjects. Our
creeds whatever they may be, are dearer to us than all other
objects. They strike their roots more profoundly into the hearts
of men, than any thing besides. Here is a holy ground which we
suffer no one to enter with impunity. Political storms soon sub
side ; but every pasMon is excited when we are , robbed of the
liberty of thought, on the most interesting of all subjects.
The political freedom of the United States is so great, and so
distinctly seen and felt by every individual, that, we rarely think
of the great superiority of our religious liberty to that Of every
other country. Since my landing in Europe, this has daily ap
peared to me as beyond all comparison the most beautiful feature
of our constitution. By a residence on-the continent, an American
becomes so disgusted, with the union of religion and politics, in
consequence of it being made the instrument of enslaving the mind,
or of lessening civil liberty, that he could not see an established
church introduced in his own country, without regarding it as the
first step taken to undermine its freedom. A legislature has no
right to fetter the conscience of any man in the least iota, and if

308 RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS.
I can reconcile my creed with my conscience, no one but God can
with justice call me to an account. Fvery law thus made to cir
cumscribe religious freedom, is, a much greater outrage upon my
rights, tban an attempt to deprive me of corporeal liberty ; and as
such it should be resisted to the extent of my power. Had our
constitution been formed by clergymen only, we should probably
have had a preSbyterian, an episcopal, or a baptist creed, of from
ten to a hundred articles, the belief in which would have been
necessary to the attainment of every place under government
Instead of seeing the faith of a candidate for office, rarely if ever
the subject of inquiry, we should have had our presbyterian, or
episcopal, or baptist governors, senators, collectors, post-masters,
and letter-carriers. Our countrymen, like many of the Europeans
of the present day, would have changed their creeds as easily as
their coats. The national religion would then to a great extent
have become an external affair ; a powerful political lever, to
undermine this or that offensive opinion or doctrine. I am aware
that some of my countrymen would wish to control reUgious free
dom only in a very limited degree, with the argument, that as the
Bible is the greatest blessing ever given to man, it is the duty of
legislatures to support religion by law. Religion, however, is
established on a moral, and not on a political basis. In aU the
instructions of Christ and the apostles, we are left to form those
opinions which reason and revelation shall point out to us as true.
Not a syllable, not an obscure hint, imposes on us the least obh-
gation to support it by the strong arm of power. But if we admit
that it is our duty to support it at all, where shall we stop ? I see
no boundary between the first step, and the moral slavery which
exists at Rome and in Spain. In such a country as ours, those
who agree with us this year, may be in the minority a few years
hence ; and we may then be compelled in our turn to support a
creed of which we partially or wholly disapprove. A sincere So-
cinian has as much right, politically considered, to accuse you of
idolatry, as you have to charge him with deism ; and he has the
same right to make laws compelling you to support his creed, as
you have to force him to contribute to your own.
The natural effect of such establishments is to produce hypo
crisy. This I have often seen on the continent, particularly in

RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENT*. 309
France and Italy ; where the officers of the army and others v/ould
kneel to the Host with the greatest apparent devotion, since the
not doing it would expose them to the frown of government ;
while with me, a foreigner, they would ridicule it, and proclaim
their deistic^l sentiments, as if desirous of convincing me that they
were not fettered by that superstition which brooded over the
minds of some of their countrymen. One who thus unites in ^
worship in which he does not believe, is in the eye of God if not
of man, a hypocrite ; and is, of course, a much less valuable mem
ber of society than a sincere Jew or deist One hypocrite makes
five men doubt, where free discussion makes one. The very effect
of all religious laws is, to induce those for whom they were made,
to suspect the unsoundness of the. creed of those who formed
them. Religion certainly in modern times, never did and never
can flourish, when supported by unnatural means. Men who wield
such an engine, will flnd the power at their disposal too great,
to escape being influenced by the desire of promoting their own
selfish ends. The purest religion will thus be more or less Cor
rupted, until it eventually becomes a mere political machine, to
oppress mankind. Probably no man's creed differs more from
that of the Jew or Catholic than my own ; and still I rejoice; that
I can call that country mine, where they both enjoy the same
rights as myself.

310

LETTER XIX.

Leipzig, June, 1826.
I le¥t Halle some weeks since, and arrived here in the midst of
that almost endless rain, which reminds the inhabitants of the north
of Europe, of the time when the ark rode on the waters. Our
horses brought us over the five German, or twenty-three EngUsh
miles between the two cities, in less than four hours, which is fast
travelling for Germany. In the north there are but few turnpikes
or paved roads, and even in the centre of Germany the former are
less numerous than in the oldest New England states. Napoleon
will be remembered with not a little pleasure by travellers, as
having done more to lessen the inconveniences to which they were
exposed thirty years since, than all the monarchs of Europe during
the last century. Before the French visited Italy, there was not
one good road in that country, and until they invaded Germany,
there were very few here. Travellers of the last generation, a_nd
all who preceded them, used to cross the Alps with anticipations of
broken limbs, and of being buried by avalanches. At the present
time they wind so rapidly over the Simplon and Mount Cenis, that
they have hardly time to view the interesting scenery through which
they pass, before the quick rolling carriage bears them beyond the ra
vines and cliffs, and over the torrents, which had just begun to
awaken their admiration. Though the French did not make as
many roads here as in Italy, they taught the Germans that the dif
ficulties were principally imaginary, and so roused the govern
ments to this subject, that there are now ten good roads where
there was one tliirty years since. In travelling over the northern
part of Germany near the ocean and the Baltic, from the Rhine to
the Niemen, you crawl through sand, with Uttle or nothing to re
lieve the ennui of your snail-Uke progress. At Cologne, a year
since, I ascertained at the post, that the diligence was three days

SILESIAN MERCHANT. 811
and three nights in going from that city to Cassel, one hundred
and forty or fifty miles, and always in motion. This will give you
an idea of the tediousness of travelling in that part of Germany.
The road to this city, winds through rich fields of grain, which
at that time, notwithstanding the cold, was just rising above the
ground, and giving a beautiful green to the landscape. In the car
riage with me, was a Prussian merchant from Silesia. He was re
turning from Hamburg, where he had been to dispose of some of
the linen, for the manufacture of which that province is so celebra
ted. I asked him what was his success ? " Very bad," he replied,
" the English have supplanted us in all foreign markets." How is
this, when bread only costs one-third as much with you as in
England? He replied, he did not know, but that he knew very
well he could not sell his linen. As this was a sore subject to him,
I. changed it by asking, how do the Silesians like Frederick Wil
liam ? " Very much, he is an excellent man, we could not have a
better king." Does he do any thing for Silesia? " No ! his eyes
are directed so much to the Rhine' provinces, that it is very true he
overlooks Silesia." Has commerce beeh flourishing with you for
some time past, and is it now ? " Oh no, it is almost entirely destroy
ed ; it is nothing to what it was fornierly. It would be much better
for us if the king would not lay so many restraints upon our com
merce ; our country would be much happier ; but notwithstanding
this, I believe that no land has a better monarch." I was much
struck with the contrast, wrhich this man exhibited to opr northern
merchants, during, the embargoes and non-importation acts of the
Jefferson and Madison administrations. This conversation added
one to the hundred, and almost the thousand proofs I have had
since entering this country, of the truth of the remark that a Po
lish gentleman once made to me, that the Germans are born monar
chists. The states of Germany -wiU be the last nations in Europe to ex
tort a constitution from their sovereigns. The people will probably
wait until it is presented to them in gracious generosity. What it
is that occasions such a spirit of submission and patient hope, it is
not easy to divine. In the time of Luther and of Moritz, they were
filled with enthusiasm. The soldiers of the latter, of Frederick, and
of Blucher, had more fire than their enemies. The students of the

3Id LEIPZIO.
universities exhibited a little a few years since, in reference to their
own countries, but it stopped here. While the shout of liberty
and equality was removing many of the kings of Europe from their
thrones during the last thirty years, every German sovereign retain
ed his, without any cause for fear, until a distant enemy approached
his territory. Such a spirit of generous submission, during such
periods of violence, certainly merits a corresponding generosity on
the part of the potentates of Germany. To the honour of a few
of these it may be said, that notwithstanding the darkness of
Austrian politics, and the glitter of Russian bayonets, they have
fulfilled the promise made to their subjects at the Congress of
Vienna. Though the constitutions which they have received, are
not such as would satisfy an Englishman or an American, they do
furnish the first step in the ascent towards freedom, and they may
possibly hereafter be not a litde instrumental in politically renova
ting Germany.
The Germans, particularly the Saxons, are exceedingly fond of
exclamations, some of which, with us, would be thought to border
upon profaneness. You hear them from the lips of noblemen and
citizens, professors and students, whenever you enter into conver
sation with them. The most common, and one which you hear
aiinost every five minutes, is Herr Jesus, lord Jesus. Lieber Gott,
dear God, du lieber Gott, thou dear God, and mein Gott, or my God,
are heard almost as frequently. The exclamations of surprise,
viz., Gott''s TauSend, God's thousand, Gotfs Hundert, God's hun
dred, Gott's Blitz, God's lightning, and Gott's Donner, God's thun
der, though they come not as frequently, still one or all of them
strike the ear, ten times as often, as the vesper bell of Italy calls
the nun to her devotions. Among the students of the university in
this city, you occasionally hear Donner und Doria — thunder and
Doria. This is an exclamation often uttered by Giannettino Doria
in Shiller's play of Fiesco, and has been introduced since that work
was written. This last expression is sometimes used as indicative
of surprise, but usually as an expletive.
In their salutations, the Germans are very warm in comparison
with the English, whom they, as well as aU the nations of the con
tinent, regard in this respect as exceedingly frigid and destitute of
heart. Whenever they part, they say, Leben sie wohl, may you

SALUTATIONS. 813
live well, or happily ; and also Empfelde mich ihnen, I commend
myself to you ; or if they address a stranger, or a slight acquaint
ance, they add the word gehorsamst, or I commend myself to you
most -respectfully. They have another salutation, which you con
stantly hear in Italy and France, viz. auf wiedersehen ; to see you
again. In passing each other, they do not merely touch their hats,
as with us, but take them entirely off, raising them high above the
head. In this respect they are as punctilious as a French or ItaUan
petit mattre, for they do so not merely to ladies, but to each
other. Among the students, however, you see nothing of this, as
in all the universities they have passed a law to dispense with all
these civilities, as useless to the Burschen. They retain, however,
the custom so universal in Germany, of addressing each other with
the prefix lieber or liebster, dearer or dearest ; mein lieber or theuer
FVeund, my dear friend ; and liebster or theuerster, and mein lieb
ster. or theuerster Fre'und, dearest or my dearest friend. The pea
sant girls and many of the humbler classes in the cities, when they
meet those whom they regard as their superiors, say Sch'dn guten
morgen and schbn guten Abend ; literally, beautiful good morn
ing, beautiful good evening.
Three great fairs are held at Leipzig, at New-Years, Easter, and
Michaelmas ; when most of the business of the city is thus trans
acted. At other seasons, a traveller would not be conscious of
being in a great commercial city. The fair at Easter is much the
longest, and at that time merchants resort here from every part of
Europe. Eighty thousand strangers have been registered at the
police-office at a single fair, but of these probably not more than
one thousand were booksellers. They come from every country
in Europe, from Russian Asia, and even from Persia. At this fair
you hear every language, and behold evefy variety of physiogno
my and costume, from the sea of Aral to Philadelphia, and from
Archangel to Portugal. Europe and Asia are then brought toge
ther in the streets of this city. The traveller who wishes to write
a description of lands which he has never seen, may here find
materials to enliven the pages of his work. The hotels at this
period are overflowing, and three, four, and five beds are placed in
each room. The houses of the inhabitants, with the exception of
those of some of the most wealthy, are then occupied by the in-
41

314 COMMERCE OF LEIPZIG.
habitants of the Don, the Caspian, the Frozen Ocean, and the
Tagiis. Among this number the Polish Jews are conspicuous.
Their long black robes, bound round the body, and extending to
their feet, their dark black eyes and huge beards, remind you of
the capuchins of Rome ; for whom they might easily be mistaken,
pi-o vided the colour of their robes were altered, and the stout boot
exchanged for sandals. They are both equally dirty, and equally
disagreeable in their appearance, though the round face and merry
look of the monk, convey a much higher degree of contentment,
than the prominent nose and glistening eye of the Jew. The
number of Jews who resort here is so great, that many of the
signs of the shops are in Hebrew, as well as in German. Some
of this race inhabit this city ; the precise number, however, 1 have
not been able to ascertain. '
Within a few years the commerce of Leipzig, in every branch
excepting that of literature, has very much diminished.* Prussia
and Austria will not allow most of the manufactures of this coun
try to enter their dominions. Saxony, by its division at the Con
gress of Vienna, has become too small to support those extensive
manufactures that existed when her territory was not only much
larger, but when the internal trade of Europe was much less shack
led than at present. The sale of books, however, is as great as
formerly, and is rather on the increase. Books, when transported
from one German state to another, pay no duty, provided they were
printed any where' within the bounds of Germany. The copy
right of works is not secured by the go^^ernment, as with us ; but
an agreement exists among all the respectable booksellers, that
when one of their number has purchased a copy-right of an au
thor, no other shall reprint the work without purchasing the right
of the proprietor. If any bookseller should violate this compact,
and reprint a work, while the author or purchaser is stiU living,
the other booksellers are pledged never to sell a work which he
pubUshes, and to have no transactions with him. Almost every
individual in the trade, is thus under the necessity of assenting to
* The commerce of this town is still very considerable. One of the Post
masters of this city informed me, that on those days when tlie Paris mail
arrived, it was not unfrequent to receive four thousand letters at the office.
This mail comes every otlier day.

THE CITY. 315
th^s«ompact, and rarely is one to be found, who will not accede
to it.- This agreement, however, is merely an implied one, and
strongly exhibits the influence of public opinion.. A pirated edi
tion is called a Nachdruck, and although better executed than most
of the German works, they are to be found only in the shops of
the retailer, or in the sheds of the streets. I have remarked, that
the governments do not protect the author by a copy-right, as
with us. There is, however, one exception. . Goethe, the great
poet of Germany, applied the last winter to the German Alliance
at Frankfort, for a copy-right for his works throughout all Ger-
m£>ny. His popularity w^s so great, that it was immediately
granted for fifty years. He has sold his works for that period, for
one hundred thousand Prussian dollars. This, however, is the
only example since the Diet first assembled in 1.815.*
Leipzig, notwithstanding the diminution of its commerce, has
greatly increased in population within a few years. It now con
tains forty-two thousand inhabitants. Three-fourths of this popu
lation dwell within the bounds of the old fortifications, which
are not more than two miles in circumference. The houses are
usually from four to six stories, and most of them have from two
to four stories on the roofs. In this etherial region, those of
the .students and literati reside, whose resources are limited.
Their thoughts in onesense of the wordjare cer,tainly very elevated.
This city is built of brick and stone covered with cement,
which does not break off like that of Berlin. An appendage to
many of the houses is peculiar. Over the doors, from the second
story upward to the fourth or fifth, is a projection of four feet, by a
breadth of eight or ten. Here are placed windows, through which
the ladies can look up and down the street, without being observed.
These are- a very good substitute for the mirrors which you so
frequently see on the exterior of the houses, in the cities bordering
the Rhine, and even in Berlin. These mirrors are placed at such
an angle, that every one who rings at the door or walks along the
street, is reflected to the eye of the lady who sits at her window.
She is consequently at home or not at home, as she likes the society
* Since the above was written, the Diet have given to the children of
Schiller, a copy-right of the works of that dramatist, for fifty years.

316 PROMENADES OF LEIPZIG.
of the visitor. This is a most convenient mode of gratifying female
curiosity, and of relieving one's self from the innui of a disagreea
ble visitor, by accepting his card as a substitute for a vlgit
Leipzig was formerly a fortified town. After the seven years'
war, the fortifications were destroyed, the ditches filled up, and
the ground converted into an English garden, which now entirely
surrounds the city. It is laid out in very great taste, and is for its
extent, one of the most beautiful promenades of Europe. A monu
ment to C. W. Muller, the celebrated Biirgermeister of Leipzig,
was erected by the citizens in the most conspicuous part of the
garden, as a tribute of gratitude for the great services he rendered
them. The rambles around this town are very beautiful, among
which the Rosentlialj the rosy valley, is the favourite one of the
students and citizens. I know not whence it received its name,
for not a rose blossonls there. The noble oaks which border it,
render it much more beautiful than a vale of flowers ; and as they
stretch their arms out into the air, and shoot their tops towards
the heavens, they strongly remind me of our western foresfs.
Among all the walks around this city, there is none which 1
visit so often, and with so much interest, as the garden of Reich
enbach. The small lake which lies so tranquilly in this garden of
foliage and flowers, and the beautiful bridge which arches it, leave
on the memory the impression of a lovely picture. There is how
ever a higher interest awakened by a ramble here, than that de
rived from its artificial beauty. It was from this spot that Prince
Poniatowsld plunged into the Elster, as he was pursued by the
allied troops. In the centre of the garden is a neat monument,
erected to the memory of this gallant Pole, and on the spot where
his body was drawn from the stream, is a small stone 'with the
foUo'wing inscription.

poniat6wski. 317
' ¦ Hie
In undis Elystri,
Josephus Poniatowski
Princeps.
Summus Exercitus Polonorum Praefectus,
Imperii Gallici Mareschallus, tribus vulneribus
Letiferis acceptis, ultimus ex acie descedens,
Dum receptum magni Gallorum exercitus tuetur.
Vita gloriae, et patriae sacrata functus est.
Die XIX Octobris A CIOIOCCCXIII
Anno aetatis impleto LII.
PopUlaris Populari Duci Miles,
Hoc Monumentum lacrimis suis irrigatum,
Posuit.
Poniatowski was the favourite of the Poles, as well as of Napo
leon. The hope that the Emperor would restore freedom to his
country, and enable it to re-assume its rank among the nations of
Europe, induced him, and many of his countrymen, to cling to the
cause of France, long after Poland had been over-run by the
advancing Russians. The great battle of Leipzig, in destroying
not merely a large proportion of the French army, but still more
in terminating the life of this idol of the Poles, extinguished the' last
hopes of that nation. The Elster here, is not more than forty feet
in breadth, and has a moderately rapid current. Had he not been
wounded, it seems impossible that he should not have crossed it
with ease.
It is believed by many of the Europeans, even at this day, that
the sovereigns, who dismembered Poland, had the intention of
re-establishing that monarchy, and of making Poniatowski king of
that country. Any one Ai'ho casts even a glance at the history of
Russia, Austria, and Prussia, during the last sixty years, must enter
tain doubts on the subject. To these powers, more than to any
others in Europe, may be applied the words of Mephistopheles,
when speaking of the love of gormandizing which had so long dis.
tinguished the Catholic church.
Die Kirche hat einen guten Magto,
Hat ganze Lander' aufgefressen,
Und doeh noch nie sich iibergessen.

318 LEIPZIG.
" The church has a good stomach, hath eaten up whole countries,
and has never over-eaten."
Many of the Germans appear as ignorant of our country, as the
Parisians and Italians. Madame  , the lady in whose house I
have my rooms, mentioned to me to-day, that as she was recently
visiting one of her neighbours, she observed to her that an Ameri
can gentleman was lodging in her house. The good lady, who had
always associated the idea of cannibalism with that of an American,
asked her, if she did not fear to remain in the house with me. She
replied, that as I was perfectly harmless, she had yet discovered
nothing to excite her fears. She then wished to know, if I was not
black. "While at Cologne, a year since, on entering one of the
churches, I discovered the statue of a black saint near one of the
altars, whose name, if my memory is accurate, was St. Gereon.
On inquiring of my guide who he was, he replied that he was an
American saint. Upon my telling him that there were few saints
of that colour there ; he replied, " you mistake. Sir, the Americans
are all black."* I have been very fortunate since my landing in
Europe, in pitching my tent in very agreeable quarters, and have
found the families who furnished me with rooms, often manifesting
;an interest in my welfare, while suffering from ill health, that at
* "While residing in one of the Jarge cities in Europe, a family from a neigh
bouring town, came to pass a few days in the metropolis, and took a suite of
rooms next to my own. They inquired of the landlady ; who occupied my
,jooms. She replied, a gentleman from America. " From America, and are
you not afraid of him?" No! he has done nothing j'et to excite alarm. "I
^m almost afraid to stay here, are you sure he is harmless.''' She observed,
-,that I had resided there some weeks, and had behaved as well as other travel
lers. As a door opened from one of my rooms into the first of theirs, they
-Still thought there might be danger, and -requested her to fasten it. This,
¦however, was not a suiBcient defence. The trunks of the whole party were
piled against the door, to prevent my entrance. Unfortunately for the fears
,pf this family, the chimney sweepers came at an early hour the next morning,
^nd commenced their sooty employment. The party were suddenly awakened
hy the strange and incomprehensible noise of trowels and scrapers, coming in
.contact with dry brick. They rose in great alarm, and called out to the
mistress of the house, begging her to come to them. As she entered their
room, they wished to know if that American was not the cause of it, mistaking,
jprobably, the noise of the scrapers, for a sharpening of the tomahawk.

OOVERNMENT OF CITIES. 319
times has made me almost forget that I was in a land of strangers.
This has resulted partly from a desire to know something about
America, and still more from the circumstance of my being so far
removed from my native land, which appeared to them, as distant
as the moon does to one of our seamen. The middling classes of
Germany, are so unaccustomed to travel, that a thousand miles
appears to them, as far as China does to me, and when they hear
that I am four thousand miles from home, they lift up their hands,
roll their eyes, and exclaim, ' " Oh ! that is terrible." Those who
live in the interior, are as fearful of the ocean, as a hen is of having
her chickens approach the water. If Yankees were made of such
stuff, we should never have a ship large enough to navigate a duck
pond. It is a very interesting matter, tp observe the influence of the
ocean upon civilization. Why were Greece, Rome, Carthage,
Tyre, so far advanced in wealth and reflnement; while those nations
inhabiting the interior of Europe, Asia and Africa, were partially,
or wholly barbarians ? Why have England, Holland, Spain, and
Portugal, at different perioas of their history, extended their Con
quests so widely, that their respective monarchs' could say with
truth, "the sun never sets upon my dominions?" There is but one
answer to this question: these countries abounded with harbours..
The daily sight of the ocean, made the inhabitant^ So familiar with
its terrors, that they sOon embarked upon it, and having thus ven--
tured, they soon learned to despise and forget its dangers.
The government of the German cities is- very different from.
ours ; corresponding much nearer with the towns of Holland." It
consists of a species of assembly, composed of four branchesi.
These are,
1. The Biirgermeisiers, oi whom there are two who serve'
alternately for one year. Each one receives a salary during the
year he fills the office, but not when the chair is occupiied by his,
companion. His salary amounts to some thousand rix dollars..
They are chosen from the class called senators, and hold theii:
place during good behaviour.
2. The Senators, of whom there are twelve. They are chosem
from the Stadthauptleute. They receive a compensation for theii;-
services, of the amount of which I am ignorant.

330 LEIPZIG.
3. The Stadthauptleute, who are elected from the Biirgerrepre-
sentanten. They receive no compensation, the honour being
considered an ample equivalent for their services. As this is a
stepping-stone to the place of Senator, and as every elevation,
however small it may be, is prized by the Germans, these places
are not a little coveted.
4. The Biirgerrepresentanten, who are elected by the citizens.
The number of each of these classes, varies in proportion to the
population of the towns. They hold a session several times a
week, at which the Biirgermeister presides. Every thing con
nected with the administration of the city, the levying of taxes,
education, &c. comes under their cognizance. The citizens are
taxed by this city parliament, to any amount they please to impose
upon them, and there is no relief. Like almost every thing else of
this kind on the continent, it is an unwieldy body, in comparison
with the corporations of our towns. This, however, must be
expected, for the Germans are as fond of titles, as they are of
offices, and the number of both is ludicrous to a RepubUcan.
The city of Leipzig deserves the greatest praise, for the efforts
which it makes, and the expense which it incurs, to diflnise intelli
gence through every class of its citizens. For the instruction of
the poor, five schools have been established, the expenses of four
of which are defrayed by the city. These are,
1. Die Arme Schule, which has about one thousand scholars.
2. Die Freye Schule, where about nine hundred are instructed.
3. Die Waisenhaus Schule, or the Orphan School, in which one
hundred and twenty children receive an education.
4. Windler's Free School, which is supported bj'' funds, given to
it by the founder, whose name it bears. The income is sufficient
to provide the means of education for about two hundred children.
5. The School of Industry. Here the girls labour 'with their
needle an hour or two daily ; the rest of the time being devoted
to their studies. The profits of their work are paid to the parents
of the children.
In these five schools, there are between forty and fifty instruct
ers, who, with the exception of those employed in the free school
of Windier, derive all their support from the funds of the city
treasury. In most, if not of all these, the children receive their

SCHOOLS OF LEIPZIG. ' 321
books and stationary, as well as their instruction, gratis. Besides
these schools, there is in each of the four suburbs a concessionirte
school, which is under the direction of some of the clergy. In
these four schools, there are not more than five hundred children,
each of whom pays from eight to ten rix dollars per annum, for
instruction. In addition to the receipts from tuition, the instruct
ers receive a small sum from the treasury of the city.
The Biitgerschule, or the school for the citizens, is intended
for the instruction of the children of those who are wealthier.
Thefe are seventeen instructers, besides two teachers of penman
ship, two of the French language, an instructer in drawing and
sketching, and three female instructers in sewing, embroidery,
&c. ; in all, twenty-five. Each instructer has his particular depart
ment, to which he exclusively Confines himself. He is not, as
with us, the instructer pf a partiCldar class, but of a single branch,
hearing from four to six different classes, who come to his room
successively. One, for example, is an instructer in spelling, another
in pronunciation, a third in reading, a fourth in arithmetic, a fifth
in algebra, &c. ; and to these branches they confine themselves
for life. In pronunciation, every word is analyzed, and each part
of it is so marked in the elementary books, as to give to the eye
of the pupil a definite idea of the various syllables of which it is
composed, and of the sounds necessary to utter it. In pronoun
cing it, each sound is analyzed without uttering word, i. e. the
consonants of each syllable, so far as they' are instrumental in the
pronunciation, are given without the vowels. Afterwards they
are both united. All the children pronounce at the same time,
and with very great precision. As all are required to utter
the sounds of the words, and as it is done by a signal, every eye is
fixed upon the teacher. 'In precision, it resembles a military
parade, more than a school. In reading, each jnipil is required to
give the rules for the accents. If he does hot,: the teacher asks,
" who knows." All those who do, elevate their hands, and some one
of them he asks for the answer. After a number of sentences have
been read in this manner, and the proper accent been decided
Upon, they all read together, following the gestures made by the
instructer. A similar mode of analysis is visible in the higher
branches of instruction. The teachers are all men of education,
43

332 SAXON PRONUNCIATION.
and by confining themselves to a particular department, they
arrive at a degree of perfection, which is as beneficial to the
scholars as it is gratifying to the spectator.
Besides the schools just mentioned, there are a number of pri
vate ones both for boys and girls, corresponding with the boarding
schools of our country. Those for the former, however, do not
meet with much success, as the gymnasia Of this country afford
much greater advantages than any private establishment which is
not formed on a similar plan. The daughters of the Biirger, that
is of those inhabitants of the cities, who are neither noblemen nor
clergymen, receive their education at the Biirgerschule. The
wealthy of all these classes, either send their daughters to some of
the private schools, or have instructers who Uve in their houses, if
they reside in the country.
The pronunciation of Saxony is much less soft than that of
Hanover, the inhabitants of which state have the bocca Romana
oi Germany. That of Berlin is soft, but very defective. They
pronounce, for example, gut — yut. Got — yot, Jetz — itz, and other
words in the same manner. They are accused by the Germans of
the north, of not speaking grammatically ; which I beUeve is true,
at least as it respects nine inhabitants in ten of the Prussian me
tropolis. They say, for example, geben sie mich das Brot, instead
of MIR, using the accusative for the dative. These mistakes you
hear every day, unless when talking with literary men. They how
ever speak much more correctly now, than in the time of Frederick
the Great. That monarch did not speak his native language much
more correctly than the duke of Marlborough wrote English ; and
old Blucher used to murder all the rules of syntax, vtith the same
success as he destroyed the retreating French after the battie of
Waterloo. One of the most distinguished literati of this country,
who was a native of Berlin, informed me that, thirty years since,
the inhabitants of Berlin spoke barbarous German ; in fact, that
it was rare to hear one speak grammatically. It is still rarer that
you find one who can write it correctiy. To do this it is neces
sary for a German to study his language with an assiduity and a
patience, almost unknown to any other individual when learning
his native tongue. I have been told by one of the German poets,
that not one person in a thousand could write correct German.

GERM.\N LANGUAGE. 323
This is certainly the only country, to which such a remark is
applicable. You will easily believe then, that to a foreigner, the
difficulties are almost insurmountable. The grammar remains for
a long time a perfect chaos to him ; and nothing but a long resi
dence, will enable him to speak and write this language with
tolerable accuracy. The substantives, like the Latin, have three
genders. In the latter language, the terminations guide you ; b 't in
the German, with the exception of a few classes of wordsj your
dictionary is your only aid ; and to that you must constantly refer,
to know what adjective, pronoun, or article should be used. Even
after you have found the gender of your substantive and article,
you meet with not a little difficulty in declining it ; for there are
nearly as many exceptions as cases to which your rule applies.
Every adjective has three different modes of declension, which
are determined by the species of pronoun or article which accom
panies the substantive, or by the absence of one of these parts of
speech. The very extensive combination of their words, by means
of which they express almost every shade of thought, adds very
much to the difficulties a foreigner meets with ; and which, with
many others I might mention, so obscure his path, that not until
he has been at least a year in this country, can he rise above the
foggy atmosphere of this language into comparative sunshine.
The German language is so arbitrary in its genders, that the
analogy of other tongues, either ancient or modern, throws very
little light upon the darkness which envelopes the foreigner. For
example, die Sonne— r-itie sun, die frau — a wife? are feminipe; das
pferd — a horse, das weib — a woman, are neuter. The moon, which
in most other countries is feminine, is here masculine. I see
nothing in this luminary in Germany, which entitles \it to a mas
culine character, for its rays are certainly not more powerful than
in America, or than those seen in an Italian evening, where she
shines in aU the charm of feminine beauty. ' ^
The Saxons are accused by the Hanoverians of having a harsh
accent ;. though the Rhine states would be perfectly satisfied to
speak as well as the former, whose pronunciation they place next
to that of the German subjects of king George. There is one
sound which distinguishes a Hanoverian from every other Ger-
map. All words beginning with the letter s, when followed

334 AMUSEMENTS IN LEIPZIG.
by a consonant, they pronounce ^oft ; for example, the words
sprechen, stein, they utter as they arc written. The Saxons and
others, always give the s the sound of sh ; as shprcchen, shtein.
This the Hanoverians condemn, as it makes their language very
rough, which is of itself harsh enough to any foreign ear ; and
they also observe that the orthography ought to be followed.
Their reasons appear conclusive to every foreigner ; but they are
not thus regarded by the other Germans, They say, that in this
respect the Hanoverians are affected ; and that the language loses
its strength when deprived of its roughness, which after a short
time ceases to be disagreeable. Mo^t foreigners who enter Ger
many, confine their tour to the vicinity of the Rhine, where the
pronunciation is very grating. The impression is almost universal
in France and in our country, that it is impossible to listen to this
language, with the same pleasure as to the French and Italian,
This was my own opinion until I became sufficiently familiar with
it to converse with ease, As soon as my car was no longer accus.
tomed to listen merely to the sound, much of its harshness van
ished. So rich is it in conveying those ideas by single words,
which is done in other languages by circumlocution ; and so full
of feeling and depth of thought is the conversation of intelligent
Germans, that I now listen to it with more pleasure than to any
foreign tongue 'with which I am familiar.
In the vicinity of this city are a number of gardens, to which
the inhabitants resort every afternoon, at an early hour. In some
of tbem you find from fifty to seventy arbours, with a table in each,
around which the family is seated. On entering, a groschen or
two is paid by each individual, as a compensation to the musicians,
who for this limited sum fill the air with melody. These bands of
musicians, of which there are a number in Leipzig, though inferior
to those of the royal guard, in Berlin, have obtained an excellence
unknown in our country. The most difficult pieces of Beetlioven,
and of other distinguished composers of Germany, are there played
with great animation. In repeiving visits in these arbours from
their friends, and in returning them, in strolling up and down the
gardens, and in listening to the music, large numbers of the inhabi
tants pass four or five hours of tlie afternoon, until the setting sun,
which, at this period of the year, is n substitute for the nine o'clock

FEMALE INnUSTRY. 325
bell, warns them to retire. At this season the theatre receives
little encouragement, the inhabitants preferring the fresh air of the
country and, the music of the gardens, even to the noble produc
tions of Schiller's genius.
One is not a Uttle struck by the economy of the Germans, both
as to money and lime, even while engaged in their amusements. A
shilling or two will pay all the expenses of a family at these enter
tainments, for most of them drink nothing but beer. As soon as
they have taken their seats in an arbour, the mother and daughters
unroll their half finished stockings, and knit away with an ardour
that almost leads you to believe, you are in a school of industry,
rather than a place of festivity. There is something almost
ludicrous in this attachment of the Germans to knitting. To see
fifty or a hundred young girls, half hid in arbours, with bright rosy
cheeks and laughing eyes, busily engaged in taking up stitches,
and making the circuit of their stockings, while as many young
fellows are rallying them, or perhaps saying things almost unut
terable, is a spectacle which is visible in no country but Germany.
This custom is not confined to the midtlling classes. Often have I
seen, in small societies, half a dozen or more of the daughters of
the Herr Vons and Barons thus . occupied, with huge stockings
dangling from their fingers. When conversing with them, you
rarely catch the eye of the fair Fraiilein with whom you are
speaking, as her needle requires all her attention. What they do
with this infinitude of stocldngs, I cannot conceive. From their
great dexterity and constant occupation, one would be led to
believe, that this art was unknown in other countries. Whether
the married ladies of Germany wear the small clothes or nOt, I am
ignorant. If, they do not, it is their own fault, for no husband
would dare make any reply>-but an affirmative one, armed as they
are most of the day, with those dangerous weapons.
This remarkable exhibition of female industry is only equalled
by that of the other sex in smoking. The students, I have before
observed, smoke most of the time, when not eating, or sleeping, or
in their lecture rooms. The peasantry smoke while at work in the
/fields, as well as at home ; and the other classes of Germans, not
a small part of their lives, Though the young peasants do not

326 AMUSEMENTS.
puff while in the waltz, they resume their pipes as soon as it Is
ended. ' ,
Dancingis the favourite amusement of all classes. In the United
States, the French are supposed to have a stronger attachment to
this exercise than any other nation. The Germans, so far as my
observation has extended, appear to be much fonder of it, than any
other people. Though the royal families do not dance, they
polonaise, whichis a light airy step, halfway between a dance and
a walk. All beneath them, however, feel that there is no loss of
dignity, in throwing their feet about in all directions, and in spin
ning round in the waltz like a top. This last dance is the favourite
with the Germans, as it originated in this country, and for ages has
been national. They introduce it into most of the foreign dances,
which have been imported here, giving to all of them a life which
is unknown in the graceful motions of the French cotilUon, or in
the stiff figures of the English. They have a much greater variety
than I have elsewhere seen, some of which, are not unfrequently
boisterous. Many of the figures are very beautiful, and some not
a little numerous. Into not a small number of their cotillions,
many of the plays of children are introduced, which produce an
abundance ef merriment. Mothers unite with their daughters in
the same dance ; and it is not uncommon to see a father, swinging
round in the waltz with his daughter, and his wife with her son.
But, although the Germans dance more than the French, they are
much less graceful in their motions. This is the result of a native
awkwardness, which is almost universal in this country, as well as
of several other causes, which have been already specified, in my
remarks upon the defective eloquence of the Germans. They are,
however, much less ¦a'wkward than they would be, had they never
felt the animating influence of the vioUn. Fielding remarks, in his
Amelia, that " those persons whose feet have never been under
the hands of the dancing master, are apt to discover the want of
it in their education, in every motion, nay even when they stand
or sit still." " They seem," he says, " to be overburthened with
limbs, which they know not how to use." This awkwardness is
Tisible even in many of the Germans who have been under the
discipline of this instrument ; still they have much less of it tha,n
they would have exhibited, had they never learned to move

EUROPEAN CURIOSITY* ^Hff
to music. As a part of education, under proper regulations,
it cannot rationally be objected to ; but that it should be carried
to the extreme it has reached in this country, seems surprising to
one, who knows how interesting is the conversation of intelligent
Germans. Yankee curiosity is proverbial in England, as well as in our own
country. In the extended sense, of this word, it is applicable to us
in a peculiar degree, but in one more restricted, it applies equally
to Europeans. I have never held five minutes conversation with a
Frenchman or Italian, at' least with those of the middle class of
society, without being questioned as to my country, my occupation,
&c. In Germany these questions are put to you less frequentlyr
but still so often, as to remind you, that inquisitiveness is not con
fined^ to our villages. The form of address is always' the same.
Youare an Englishman, I suppose? No. A Scotchman, perhaps T
No. You must be an Irishman, then ? I am not. You are not a
Frenchman ? Certainly not. Are you an Italian ? No. You must
be an Englishman, then? I never was in England. Are yon a
Spaniard, or Portuguese ? No. You are neither Greek nor Turk?
No. Oh! I know now; you are a Russian. I have never been
in Russia. Are you from the north of Europe ? I am not. You
must be an Asiatic then? I have never seen Asia. You cannot be
an African? No. By this time they arrive at the ultima Thule of
their recollection, and looking round at their companions if there
are' any present, with an expression of wonder, E|nd then at me,
with a gaze of astonishment ; they either declare that I am from
the moon, or with great earnestness inquire, from what part of the
world I have come. Sometimes I tell them that I have come from
the moon, which they seem half inclined to believe ; or when I
mention my country, they exhibit as much surprise, as if a lunarian
had really descended to the earth.
Auerbach's cellar, the celebrated scene, where Mephistopheles
introduces Faust to a Buiischen revelry, is still existing^ here-
Though it is not as favourite a place of rendezvous as it was some
himdred years since, Frosch and Brander might still procure a glass
of Hoch or Champaign, of as fiiie a flavour, as in the days of tlie
professor when Mephistopheles played off his legerdemain on
those students. There is still in existence an old song oy fable,

328 AUERBicn's CELtAK.
descriptive of the visit of the Doctor and his companion to this
favourite resort of the Burschen. In concluding the account of the
" Hokuspokus" of the Devil in this cellar, it describes the Doctor
as disappearing astride of a wine cask.
Der Doetor Faust zu dieser Frist,
AUs Auerbach's Iteller geritten ist,
Auf einem Fass mit 'Wein geschwind,
' Das hat gesehen manch Menschenkind.
]^aust has been the terror of the youth of many countries for
hges. His life and marvellous adventures have been written and
related so often, that there are few children who have not shudder
ed over his miserable fate. Whether such an- astrologer and phy
sician as the Doctor ever lived, is one of those questions which
will be decided in the negative or affirmative, as you address an
educated man or a peasant. According to tradition he was bom
about the year 1500, and when sixteen years of age commenced
the study of theology at Ingolstadt. He afterwards devoted his
time to the acquisition of medicine, astrology and magic, of which
sciences he acquired a thorough knowledge. During the twenty-
four years Mephistopheles served him) he led a very gay and dis
sipated life ; his servant providing him with every enjoyment with
in the reach of diabolic influence. It was in 1523 that he visited
Auerbach's cellar. Some twenty years afterwards, his merciless
companion deprived him of Ufe, in the village of Rimlich. What
gave rise to the tradition, it is impossible to discover. However
much the Germans may lament the credulity of their ancestors,
there are few of them who do not rejoice that tradition has pre
served this vestige of it, as it has furnished several of their poete
with a theme which they have clothed in poetry of a very high
character. . Of the two tragedies vn-itten by Lessing on this sub
ject, only a small fragment remains. The Faust of KUnger I have
not read. That of Goethe has thrown all others into the shade.
It is universally considered by intelligent Germans as tlie first poe
tical work of their language, and no foreigner can peruse it without
acknowledging it to be one of the first efforts of the human mind.
Leipzig has ceased to exhibit any marks of the dreadful battl«,
which, thirteen years since, raged in and aroimd its waUs. Till

BATTLE Of LEIPZIO. 329
•within a short period, the balls which , entered the walls of some
of the houses were visible, but all vestiges of the carnage in the
city have, been obliterated by their demolition, and by the repairs
they have undergone. Of this contest the inhabitants still speak
vrith horror. They were surrounded by nearly eight hundred
thousand men, who brought into action more than a thousand
pieces of artillery. The villages around them were daily sending
up their flames to heaven; and nothing was heard but the
roar of cannon, and the shrieks of the dying. Every house, tower,
and public edifice, was covered with spectators, looking with
intense anxiety for the result of these conflicts. In the smoking
villages, they thought they saw their own approaching ruin. The
wounded were brought into the city from hour to hour, tiir almost
every house was converted into an hospital. Tlie number of these
soldiers only increased the sufferings of the inhabitants. Their
jjrovisions were nearly consumed, and with difficulty could the
inhabitants who remained procure food, to satisfy the wants of
the moment. As day after day rolled away, theylooked in vain
for the result of this tremendous conflict. Famine began to starO
them in the face, as the French troops pressed into the town.
The final hour arrived, and the retreating French left the city,
amid one of the most awful scenes of carnage which the sun has
ever beheld. The little bridge which crossed the Elster, was the'
only passage for their troops. Towards this the allies directed a
battery of cannon, until it was choked with dead' At last it was
blown up, and twenty thousand French who remained behind,
were compelled to surrender. A French cavalry officer informed
me, that he crossed the bridge when this battery was sending forth
its deadliest flre upon it. The dead and dying were then piled up to
the parapet, and over them he eventually forced his way, ^ the feet
of hi^ horse occasionally sinking down between the bodies, as
when passing through a marsh..* '
This battle was viewed in anticipation, both by Napoleon and
his enemies, as the decisive struggle. On its issue rested the
^ The only vestige which remains of this conflict, is the lu3i;uriance of the
soil on that part of the plain surrounding Leipzig, where the battje was tho
most severe. '
43

330 LEIPZIG.
freedom of Germany. They girded themselves for this contest,
as if about to combat for their all. Indeed, the feelings of both
armies were strained to the highest degree of excitement. The
cruelty exhibited towards the French, was without a parallel in
this war. The Prussian soldiers, after the battle was over,
bayonetted the wounded French as they lay on the field, weltering
in their blood.* This was done in sight of their officers, who
made no effort to prevent this inhuman carnage. These acts, and
the subsequent severities of the Prussians in France, are now
remembered by the French army and nation ; and the tune, as
they hope, is not far distant, when they may have an opportunity
of wiping away the bitter recollections of this day. These are the
causes why the French army are so desirous of a war with Prussia
at the" present time. " Oh ! that we might have an opportunity of
comljatting them !" said the cavalry officer to me, to whom I have
already referred. "If the day ever arrives, there ¦wUl be a
carnage without, example in modern civilized warfare. It is
impossible that any quarter can be given ; the mutual hatred is
too deep, and the recollections of their cruelties are too vivid, for
us to combat under the influence of humanity or generosity." His
own feelings were peculiarly sensitive on this subject, in con
sequence of the ruffian-like treatment he had himself received
from a Prussian officer. In one of the skirmishes near the French
lines, he was taken by a company of Prussians in advance of the
army. The captain who commanded it, immediately demanded
his sword, which he gave him. He then directed him to siu--
render his purse, which he did. Seeing he had a better pair of
boots than his own, he ordered some of the soldiers to draw them
off, and taking them, he gave him his old ones in exchange. A
detachment of French troops suddenly appearing on the brow of
one of the hills, the Prussians retreated ; when the captain ordered
him to follow him, which he did as fast as his wounds would
permit. Thinking that his prisoner might wish to escape, he
drew his sword and cut at him several times. The Frenchman
* I received this statement from a Saxon nobleman, who was an eye
witness of this barbarity.

BATTLE OF LEIPZIG. 331
avoided his blows by falUng back, and thus received only a slight
wound. This act he thought so cowardly, so much unlike an
honourable-minded soldier, that although he was one, of the most
gay and laughing of his nation, he could not speak of it without
indignation. Les plus chiens was the only name of which he
thought the Prussians were worthy.

333

LETTER XIX.

Leipzig, June, 1826.
The prodigious fertility of the intellectual soU of Germany, is
Unexampled in the history of literature. There are few depart
ments of real or imaginary existence, which the minds of the Grerr
mans are not exploring ; few nooks or corners in the immense field
of speculation, which they have not entered, or which they are not
prepared to examine. The old, beaten tracks in theology, medi
cine and philosophy, many of them feel disposed to shun, and they
venture into the regions of possibility \rith a confidence, which no
doubts can shake, and no obscurity can terrify. The love of novelty
exists here to the same degree as it did formerly in Athens, and the
discovery of something new, excites the attention of their literati;
from the Baltic to the Austrian boundary, where every thing intel
lectual usually stops, The Germans are always prepared to attack
or defend every new theory with all their powers. Every new
opinion is a Uterary throwing down of the glove ; and in the con
tests which arise, armies oi savans seize their pens, and shed streams
of ink, filling their country with publications almost numberless.
An editor of a newspaper in these dull times of peace, does not
grasp at an account of a conflagration or piracy with more ardour,
than many of the Germans seize on every new opinion. Each new
theory has its reign of weeks, or months, or years, and then like
a deceased monarch is succeeded by Uiose which are to follow it.
an instance, illustrative of this love of literary controversy, has been
related to me by a professor of one of the universities of this coun
try. You may recollect that some years since Professor Niebuhr
of Bonn, discovered in the Ubrary of Verona, the Institutions of
Gains. The mjce had unfortunately, as we should say, made con
siderable havoc with the manuscript. The German Uterati, how-

GERMAN PRESS. 333
ever, as my informant states, so far from regretting this, felt under
great obligations to these gormandizers, as by thei^ assistance they
were enabled to speculate upop the probable sentiments of the au
thor, in thoseparts of the work which the^e animals had digested.
Speculation after speculation on the probable opinions and language
of the author were published, until some more interesting novelty
succeeded it. ,
The publication of a book is indispensable to the existence of a
literary reputation, and thousands enter the field of authorship very
young, sometimes before reaching manhood, when novelty is more
interesting than at a riiatiirer age. It is to one in ten, the means of
Braking himself extensively known, and of advancing him much
more rapidly than if he had not thus appeared before the public.
The other nine, however, who enter this literary arena, are retard
ed, and their works, are a source of but little profit, except to the
paper maker. There is another evil which results from this, much
greater than the one just mentioned. . At twenty, or even at t\ven-
ty-five, few minds are sufficiently matured to form those opinions
which rest only on a firm foundation. As they advance in life,
and, are enabled to see more clearly, n^any of the theoriesi they
embracedj and the opinions they formed in youth, lose their reality,
and are discovered to be fancy merely. The vei-y opinions they
maintained in ' their eartier publications, they accordingly some
times attack in later Ufe ; and the-same individual at different times
advances his belief and disbelief of the same thing, with equal
ardour. The celebrated theologian A  n, (if we may believe
the Germans) has had as many creeds as he has had coats. A few
years since he was a very ardent neologist, and now he exhibits the
same ardour in the defence of supernaturalism ; then he was oppo
sed to all creeds, now he is, advocating the introduction of the
liturgy into the Lutheran church of Prussia. What he will be next
year, will depend on the religious politics of the Saxon govern
ment, or on the prospect of a reward from Frederick William.
The love of authorship renders the German press more active
than any other in the world. Leipzig is the great book market for
the centre of the, con tinent, not merely for works printed in Ger
man, but for those in , classic and oriental literature, and for all the
modern languages of Europe. The books printed in Germany are

334 LEIPZIG.
to a considerable extent pubUshed and sold here. The catalogne
of tliose published at the late fair in April, forms a large octavo
volume, containing the titles of between fiye and six thousand
works. In 1800, the number of new works published at the fair
was 3969; in 1803, 4280 ; in 1810, 3708; in 1«20, 4698. Many
of these works are in one, but not a small number are in two,
four, and five volumes, Making, however, every deduction for the
first class, the number of comparatively ponderous tomes, must
greatly exceed that of Paris or London. It is necessary to dispose
of about 500 copies of a work, to- cover the expense of pubUcation.
If it has merit, not a small proportion of the edition is purchased
for the libraries of the universities, and of those cities wh6re no
such institutions exist, and by the friends of the author. If he has
any reputation, he always meets ¦with a great number of booksel
lers ready to publish his work. I have now before me a catalogue
of the most valuable theological works published in Germany 'within
the last seventy years- They amount to more than five thousand,
and are from one to twenty volumes each. "What a theological
ocean is here presented for a German, and above all for a foreigner
to navigate ! You will observe that the most valuable works only
are here included ; all epheineral and third rate publications being
consigned to oblivion. "Whatever 'views one may form of German
theology, he will be compelled to admit, that the German divines
in industry stand, pre-eminent. There are very few theological
opinions, which, since the Reformation, have been presented for
invpstigatio n, that have not been analyzed here during the last half
century, with a minuteness of examination rarelykno'wn in other
countries. How much soever we may lament that their investiga
tions have often led them from what we believe to be truth, we
must admit, if we examine their works, that they have done more
to enlarge the knowledge of sacred criticism, than all the nations
of Europe. In this respect they are a century in advance of Eng
land and, of every other country.
The catalogue of the ablest works which have been pubUshed
in Germany since the year 1750, on history, geography, and auxi
liary subjects, contains a list of between seven and eight thousand
works, from one to twelve volumes each. The catalogue of Greek
and Roman authors, with the best ti-anslations and commentaries.

UNIVERSITY. 335
includes more than twenty-five hundred, which have been piublish-
ed since the last century. The other departments of literature are
equally rich. From the few specimens I have given you of the
number of the most valuable works in these departments, you will
be able to form an idea of the immense fertility of the press of this
country. Were those in the departments of law, medicine, philo
sophy, criticism, oriental and modern literature, those of poetry,
romance, the fine arts, &c. to ,be added, thtey 'would probably,
without inqluding ephemeral publications, amount to frpm fifty to
one hundred thousand works, which have appeared in this country
since the middle of the last century.
You will easjly believe, from this statement, that the great book
sellers of Leipzig transact an amount of business unequalled by
any in Europe, a few of those in London and Paris being excepted.
The number of volumes sold by each of them, is probably several
times as great as are sold by Murray, or by Longman & Co. as
German books do not cost more than onie-third- as much, as those
printed in England.
Leipzig is not more distinguished for its commercial than for its
literary reputation. The university of this city is one of the old
est, and one of the most celebrated in Germany. It was found
ed in .1409, by some of the professors of Prague, who left the
university of that tovra, and with a considerable part of the stu
dents, came to Leipzig. The fourth centurial anniversary of this
institution was celebrated here a few years since, 'with great pomp
and parade. This university, for a very long period, has been dis
tinguished for the learning and talents of its professors, as well as
for the number of its students. In these respects, until Gottingen
became its competitor, it was most of the time without a ri^l in
the north of Germany. It n6w presents much of that venerable
antiquity, which the travellerijeholds in an ancient edifice which
time has spared. For centuries it has been an intellectual Strom-
boli, or perpetual lighthouse to the mind. Over Saxony it has
poured a flood of intelligence, rendering this land for ages the in
tellectual garden df- Germany. Its influence on the worid has
probably been greater than that pf any other -institution on the.
continent, with the exception of the university of Paris. Although
in reputation, that of Gottingen has in some respects surpassed it

336 LEIPZIG UNIVERSITY.
within the last fifty years, still from the limited period which has
elapsed since its foundation, it has done comparatively little to
wards Jnaking Hanover the classic land of Germany. Ask an in
habitant of I the Rhine, the Vistula, the Danube, or the Baltic,
where is the Attica of Germany, and he will answer. Saxony. To
the student, the very word Saxony has a charm, which more than
any other awakens a national pride, in his being able to say that
he is a German. Though ages have roUed over this university, it
has lost none of its youthful vigour, and even during the last
twenty years, it has been equalled by very few in the number of
its students, and in literary fame. In classic literature it has always
been pre-eminent.. It now enrols among its professors the first
Greek scholar in Europe, and, in the opinion of many, the first
that Europe has had for the last century. It also boasts of Rosen-
miiller, as the first coilimentator on the Old Testament, of modem
times. It still maintains its high reputation in classical literature,
holding the first rank' among the German universities.
The custom of delivering lectures in the Latin language stiU
prevails in this institution, while in most of the universities, they
are almost, excjlusively given in German. A century since they
were to a very considerable extent deUvered in the former lan
guage. Although the students receive a more thorough education at
the gymnasia at present than formerly, and all of them learn to talk
that language very. fluently before leaving those institutions ; there
sepms to be an unwillingness on their part, as well as on that of
the professors, to listen to, oi deliver lectures in a foreign dress.
Professor Schleusner informed me, that while residing at Gottin
gen, he delivered a course of lectures in Latin. At the commence
ment, his room was filled. The number of students, however,
gradually diminished, untjl before the course was half finished)
there were not more than a dozen auditors. This opposition to
lectures in a foreign language, can only be explained by the strong
attachment the Germans feel to their o\vn tongue. It is much
richer in combinations, and much more copious than the Latin ;
and it is now beginning to be considered* a classical language of
Europe, for it can boast of writers in almost every department of
science and literature, inferior to few, if to ahy, in the republic of
letters. "Why should we," say they, " deUver lectures in Latin,

PROFESSOR HERMANN. 837
when our own language is so much superior." Numbers of them
still write many of their professional works in Latin, particularly
the theologians. Within a few years, however, even tiie writers
on Biblical criticism are beginning to feel the same attachment to
their language that is manifested by those in other departments of
literature. Twenty years since, almost every work on sacred
literature appeared in this foreign dress, now more than half of
such works are written in German.
Hermann, the most distinguished Greek of Germany, as his
countrymen style him, still fills the chair he has so long held in
this university. He isj if you will believe some of his admirers, a
perfect Roman in his language, though foreigners have not been as
willing to admit thi^. All, however, must allow, that it is suffi
ciently pure, to please any ear but that of a very acute critic, and
were his students as much, like old Romans, as his language
resembles that of the Augustan age, any auditor but such a one
as just mentioned, might easily believe, while hearing his lectures
on Euripides or jEschylus, that he was listening to an old Roman.
The fame of Hermann is almost commensurate with the knowledge
of Athenian literature. His works on .SIschylus, Euripides, and
Aristophanes, and On the metre of Greek and Roman poetry,
'will probably be considered as standard works, so long as Greek
and Roman literature continue to form an essential part of educa-
cation. Professor Hermann is now fifty-four years of age, and
about five feet seven inches in height. In his face, his eye, his
conversation, his walk, and emphasis, you discover a life and
animation rarely seen in Germany. His two ruling passions are,
a love of equestrianism and of Greek. He is on his horse several
hours daily, and were he disposed, he would doubtless give as
able lectures on horsemanship, as on the poetry of ancient Greece.
When he enters his lecture room, he is usually clad in his riding
dress,' consisting of a coat, light buckskin pantaloons, long boots
and spurs. He has also a riding whip in his hand, and in his dress
presents very little of the antique cast of scholastic literature.
Although his exterior is at first so unlike that of a savant, this is
unobserved by the stranger, as soon as he commences his lecture.
His Latin is so pure, and delivered with so much ease and elegance,
that you find it difficult to realize, that it is not his native language:
44

338 LEIPZIG UNIVERSITY.
He ia enthuslastio in his love of Greek literature, and has so
completely identified himself with ancient Greece, that his mind
lives in the plains, mountains, cities, and temples of that country.
He peruses the works of the old Grecians more than those of the
Saxons of the nineteenth century, mentally participates in all their
festivals and amusements, converses with their philosophers, poets,
and historians, and mingles with them in all their foreign and
domestic combats. His lecture room is literally overflowing,
every seat and vacant passage being occupied by the students,
many of whom are compelled to stand. Even the door, the pas
sage, and as far beyond it as his voice 'will reach, are equally
thronged. Long before the hour of his arrival, they crowd into his
room, and while he lectures, no sound is heard, but that of his
voice, and that of hundreds of pens treasuring his observations.
Hermann's fame in England is little inferior to that which
he enjoys in this country. Some years since, as I have been
informed, he received an invitation to accept a professor's chair
at Oxford, and, if I mistake not, at Cambridge also. Professor
Gesenius told me, that when he was in England, he was under
the necessity of continually drawing a physical portrait of Hermann,
in reply to the numerous inquiries made respecting him. This
country has had no Greek scholar, except Wolf, to compare with
him. By some of the admirers of the Berlin professor, Hermann
would be placed just below him, but the majority of voices
would place the wreath on Hermann's brow.
The study of Greek is pursued here now with more ardour,
than at any previous period since the Reformation. " There is,"
say the Romans, viz. those who devote their time to Latin litera
ture, " a perfect mania on this subject. It receives much more
than merited attention." The gentlemen who are occupied -with
physical science are of the same opinion, and feel as if their
departments were, in consequence of this enthusiasm, too much
neglected. This mania, however, of which they' complain, has
been felt in almost an equal degree in other branches of criticism.
In Hebrew and oriental Uterature, and especially in philosophy,
ever since Kant pubUshed his " Critic of Pure Reason." This
mania, of which they complain, has been the means of throwing
more Ught upon the ancient world, within the last half century.

SAXON PEASANTRY. 339
at least so far as Greece and Palestine are concerned, than had
been shed upon it during a thousand years. Wli^n we consider
the immense influence of the literature of Greece upon that of
every civilized nation, we can scarcely believe that this language
ever has been, or will be, pursued with too much ardour.
Saxony, which lies between Prussia and Austria, wa^ so dimi
nished in its territory by the Congress of Vienna, that it now forms
one of the weakest European monarchies. Its population is not
so great as that of the stale of New-York at the last census, and
its territory not more than two-thirds as large as that of Massa
chusetts. Its soil is surpassed by none in Europe of a similar
extent, 'with the exception of Lombardy and the Netherlands, and
Is equalled by none in Germany, unless by that part of Baden
immediately bordering the Rhine. It is almost literally filled with
inhabitants; but so rich is the soil, and so comparatively Ught are
the taxes, that the peasants here are better clad, better educated,
and enjoy more of the comforts of life, than in any part of Europe
I have seen. They can universally read and write, while some of
them take one or more newspapers, and have some knowledge of
the literature of Germany. A few of them have libraries, and in
this respect, as well as in the amount of their incomes, and in the
comforts of life, they resemble our farmers of the northern states,
more than any of the peasantry of the continent, many of whom
are but little elevated above the blacks of the southern states. The
villages here are much larger, cleaner, and better built, than any
others in Europe, and are truly gladdening to the eye of the
traveller, so long accustomed to the dirty villages of France and
to the miserable-looking houses of the peasantry of sandy Prussia.
Saxony has long been the great battle-ground of Germany, and
Germany more than any other country, the battle-ground of
Europe. The unfortunate situation of this country, placed as it is
between the two great rival nations of the German Alliance, exposes
it to invasion whenever either of the two powers shall sound the
trumpet of war. Its proximity to Russia, as well as its latitude,
for it lies directly on the Une of march from Paris to Moscow,
render it equally exposed to invasion, and to all the horrors
which war brings in its train, whenever those countries shall gird
on the sword for battle. In the thirty years' war, it was the great

340 LEIPZIG.
theatre for combat and desolation, and during that period, its
ground was mpistened vrith the blood of contending armies, and
its heavens blackened with the smoke of its burning rillages and
cities. ' In the seven years' war between Frederick and the allied
Russian and Austrian forces, it was often the scene of carnage,
and during the late retreat of Napoleon from Moscow, the plains
of Bautzen, Dresden, and Leipzig, were the theatres of some of
the bloodiest combats of modern times. It has been not merely the
great scene of conflict, but has been compelled to nourish foreign
armies, as well as to feel the devastations which they spread around
them. Still, so fruitful is the soil, so great the industry of the
inhabitants, so universal their intelligence, and I should also add,
so wise has been the administration of the government, that
Saxony has entirely recovered from these repeated and terrible
ravages, in a shorter period than any other country which has been
equally afflicted. The inhabitants often spoke of these calamities,
and of the dangers to which they were exposed, \rith a feeUng
awakened only by sad experience. Although far from being
desirous of seeing the French sceptre swayed over them, they
would regard the arrival of the soldiers from that nation as happi
ness, in comparison with a visit from the delivering Austrians, or
the thieving Cossacks. The latter, in every part of Europe which
they traversed, have left behind them a name as terrifying to the
ears of the inhabitants, as the cry, " the jNIohawks are coming !"
was to the Indian tribes who lived in the vicinity of that 'warlike
people. There was nothing portable upon which these scoundrels
of the Don could lay their fingers, by night or by day, that they
would not take. They would steal with the cunning and 81)11683
of a cat, when danger threatened, or take, vi et armis, when no
officer was present to restrain them. If they saw a good coat*
on the back of a boy who was traversing the road, or suspected
that he had a watch or money in his pocket, they would stop,
* A friend of mine, who was walking not far from one of the cities of
Hanover, was thus stripped by a party of Cossacks, of his coat, cravat, vest,
watch, &c. an4 of every thing of any value which he had in his pockets.
They kissed him several times, addressing him with the words viein liebster
Freund, (my dearest friend,) and otlier terms of endearment, which they had
picked up in Germany.

DIVISION OF SAXONY. 341
and, dismounting, address him with terms of great endearment,
and then disburden him of these appendages with the greatest
sang froid imaginable, consoling him at the same time with
numerous friendly caresses. The beating which they now and
then received, was no obstacle to these acts of rapacity, which
were so universal, that throughout the northern half of Germany,
the only idea instinctively suggested to the inhabitants by the
word Cossack, is that of a thieving scoundrel. Saxony, during the
last war, was so often visited by these miscreants, that there is
but one feeling of disgust and abhorrence towards them, from the
noble to the peasant. From this statement, you will readily excuse
the Russian officers for the thrashings they bestow upon the backs
of the Cossacks. To such pilfering vagabonds, a little stimulus
from the cudgel seems to be an essential regimen. Every one of
their officers must find his cane an indispensible vade mecum.
During the late continental war. Saxony clung to the cause of
France until the battle of Leipzig ; when it united with the allies
against the common enemy. At the battle bf Dresden, where Na
poleon completely routed his enemies, they fought most valiantly
on his side ; and their bravery contributed not a little towards
gaining the victory. The Saxon monarch could not do otherwise.
His country was entirely in the hands of the French, between two
and three hundred thousand of the emperor's troops being then in
Saxony, while the king himself was with the French army. Be
fore this country was freed from the troops of Napoleon, they
united with the allies in the cause of freedom ; and not only by
their desertion from the French army during the battle of Leipzig,
but also in the subsequent campaign, contributed all in their power,
towards breaking the yoke of bondage. Prussia and Austria had
done the same. They both furnished their quotas of troops to
invade Russia ; and not until the star of Napoleon was descending
towards the horizon, did they unite ¦with the Czar. At the' Con
gress of Vienna, Prussia demanded as a compensation for her
services, an extent of territory sufficient to serve as a balance
against Lombardy, which Austria, who had come in at the eleventh
hour, had received. The Rhine provinces, although they increased
her population more than three millions, were not enough to fill
the hungry stomach of Prussia. She looked upon Saxony, and

349 DIVISION OF SAXONY.
beheld the beautiful fields and the flourishing towns and villagea
of that country ; and finding her stomach but partiaUy fiUed by
?b.3 provinces bordering the Rhine, she concluded to make of these
a' dessert to her dinner. Her appetite for this delicate food was
rendered doubly vigorous, by the contrast of her own arid plains
with this fruitful garden. Unfortunately a difficulty arose. How
could she thus gormandize, and still retain her character for tem
perance ? Just at this moment it occurred to prince Hardenberg,
the Prussian minister at that congress, that the Saxon monarch
had clung too long to the cause of Napoleon, and had thus dis
played a character so entirely un-Germanic, that it was necessary
to punish him by stripping him of part of his dominions. The
Saxon minister at that assembly, Herr von Globig, doubtless
alleged in opposition to this proposition, that Saxony had done
nothing more than Austria and Prussia had formerly done, on the
invasion of Russia. In such an argument, however, neither Nes-
selrode, Metternich, Hardenberg, nor Castlereagh could see any
weight. The case was this : Austria must have Lombardy ; Prussia
is not satisfied with the Rhine provinces, and is still hungry for
more land and inhabitants. A slice of Saxony will enable her to
digest her dinner much better, and render great service to Europe.
To this Saxony pleaded in vain. She had truth on her side; but
how feeble is the decision of justice, when contrary to that of
power. Like the sheep in the fable, whom the wolf on grounds
almost equivalent to those of Prussia, accused of muddying the
brook, she was compelled to yield to superior strength, and to
acquiesce almost without a murmur. " The example is necessary,''
said these gentlemen ; the states of Europe must be taught never
to espouse the cause of a usurper." " Did you not espouse his
cause, and that too at a time when from your numerous popula
tion, and great resources, you were ten times as able to oppdSe
him as myself," replied Saxony ? " That is another thing ; you
have muddied the stream of European legitimacy,' and must be
punished." The boundary line of Prussia was thus extended far
into Saxony ; and the monarch was obliged to resign from one-
fourth to one-third of his territory and population, and with these
the only salt mines he possessed. AlUiough such conduct as this
in miniature, in every part of the civilized world, receives the

FREEDOM OF SAXONY. 343
name of robbery, and is punished in Prussia with death, yet when
thus performed by monarchs at wholesale, it is called the adminis
tration of justice by the Holy Alliance. There is but one feeUng
in the heart of every honest man on this subject ; and posterity
will brand the authors of it with the infamy they deserve.
There is more freedom in Saxony than in any other part of
Germany. By this I mean, a greater freedem of speech, and a
comparative exemption from taxes. It is true that the press here
is not free.* This results, however, not from a desire on the part
of the monarch to restrain it, but from the influence of Austria and
Prussia, the two great powers whose territories almost surround
this little kingdom. The press may criticise the proceedings of
the Saxon government, with but little restraint ; but it is not per
mitted to make any severe reflections on those of Austria and
Prussia. One of the censors of the press in this city informed
me, that whenever any thing appeared in the Leipzig press
inclining to liberalism, the Austrian or Prussian minister imme
diately demanded the name of the censor who had inspected the
work containing such sentiments ; and in some instances, the
Saxon government were under the necessity of removing him_
The reason alleged by the powers for thus controlling the press
in Saxony, is the following : All the works published here, which
are not on the proscribed list, are freely admitted into Austria and
Prussia. For our happiness, and the stability of our thrones, it is
necessary that the press should be fettered. As the Saxons speak
the same language as our own subjects, we must prevent their
books from entering our dominions, or we must restrict the press
of that country. This argument is no doubt conclusive, if it is
admitted that monarchs have a right to shackle the human mind.
Notwithstanding this restriction of thought, through foreign
influence, there is still so much liberty of speech here, that were,
it not for the language, it would be difficult for me to reaUze that I
am in Germany. So long have I been accustomed to silence or to
ambiguous language when the subject of conversation has been
political, that my .surprise is not less than my pleasure, to discover
the free remarks of the professors, in conversation and in their
lecture rooms, as well as of the inhabitants whenever there is an
opportunity of expressing their sentiments. . In other universities.

344 REStRlCTION OF THE PRESS*
most, if not all, of the professors are very fearful of saying any
thing in public, in praise of the United States, particularly in refer
ence to its free constitution, and to its rapid increase in wealth
and power, as the result of that liberty which flows from the in
stitutions of our country. They fear to do this, however theymay
admire our country ; for they know that through the medium of
some of their auditors, whatever they have uttered, may reach the
ears of the government, and may thus ensure them the loss of their
places. The Saxon government however, is so liberal in its ad.
ministration, that they have no fear. The professors not only
discourse in the abstract upon the blessings of Uberty, but com
ment in form on the institutions of England and the United States,
with a boldness which gratified as much as it surprised me. The
students I observed, received such remarks with the greatest plea
sure ; and though they did not cheer and cry bravissimo, as would
have been done by those of the university of Paris, they showed
in their brightening faces and in their smiles, the feeling that no
political heterodoxy had been uttered.
The restriction of the press in Austria, is exceedingly ridiculous,
and even contemptible, in the eyes of every liberal man. The
number of proscribed books, is not greater than one might antici
pate from a country so sunk in every thing which is inteUectual
and noble, and from a government which has formed an intimate
alliance with Turkey. Not only the works of Lady Morgan can
not openly pass the Austrian boundary, because she has taken the
liberty to speak with freedom respecting Austrian aggrandizement,
but her ladyship has been recently stopped a short distance from
the line, and sent back, as if she had been coming from a city
where the pestilence was raging. A similar fate attended her
travelling companions, who were supposed to be infected by the
same poUtical disease. Madame de Stael in her Germany, laughs
a little at the physical character of the Austrians, particularly at
their love of eating ; and her work has, on that account, been
placed upon the proscribed list. In Vienna, traveUers are not un
frequently compelled to exhibit all their papers, and their letters.
An acquaintance of mine, who a few years since visited that city,
found, on his return from a morning's ride, one or more of the offi
cers of police in his room. They had opened his secretary, and

RESTRICTION OF THE PRESS. 345
were examining, and if I mistake not, copying his letters and papers,
without the least embarrassment. An English gentleman during
the last spring, on his return to his lodgings, found one of these
scoundrels thusoccujiied, apd in the true spirit of John Bull, kicked
him down stairs as a reward for his impudence. No notice was ta
ken of it by the officers of police, unless he may have received a
florin or two for each-of the dozen kicks whiph he received. This
excessive rigour of the Austrian police, and their continual inter
ference with Saxony, has made the name of Austria as odious to
the ears of the Saxons, as was that of Napoleon to Frederick
WiUiam, after the battle of Jena. They are so unwilling to own
these southern Germans as brethren, that you could not easily in
sult a SaXon more, than by calling him an A,ustrian. They laugh
not a little also at the Emperor Francis, whose reputation all over
Europe is that of having the thickest scull, and one of the best
hearts, of modern times. > His love of making sealing wax, and his
having been actually thus engaged, when the French were at the
gates of his capitol, seems universally beUeved here ; as wellas his
declaration at Laybach — that he "wanted no learned men, he only-
wanted good subjects, in his empire."
Prussia, in her index of proscribed books, is' much less rigid
than Austria. The works of Byron- and Moore are sold in every
part of the Prussian ddminions, without any difficulty ; although
no authors have written againstthe Holy AlUanCe ¦with pensdipped
deeper in satire and ridiculcj than the former in his "Age of
Bronze," and the latter in his "Letters of the Fudge Family from
Paris." The Constitutionnel, the Journal des Dibdts, and the
Courier Fraw^ais, are taken in most, if not all Of the principal
cities, and pubUcly exposed in the coffee-houses and reading-
rooms. Even extracts are made from them, from the' speeches of
the French opposition in the chambers of Peers and Deputies, into
all the papers of Prussia. Still, with all this apparent libei^ality,
the Prussian government has lately been guilty of an act of seve
rity towards one of the German" papers, which to me is perfectly
unaccountable. In the Berlin Almanack for 1826, under the head
of Russia, it was stated, that Nicholas would succeed the Empe
ror Alexander to the the throne. As this appeared in the Berlin
Almanack, which- had passed the scrutiny of the censors of the
45

346 LEIPZIG.
metropolis, it was considered by the French and German papers,
as an accurate source > of information ; especially as the Emperor
Nicholas is the son-in-law of Frederick William. ' The Conversa
tions Blatt, published in Leipzig, copied this article, ¦with some
remarks on the probability of the correctness of the information,
as it came from such a source. The Prussian Minister of the In
terior, immediately published an order, forbidding the circulation
of that paper in Prussia, assigning the publication of this
ariicle as the reason. Ten days after this, the news of the death
of Alexander arrived in Berlin, and in less than three weeks;
Nicholas ascended the throrie of the Czars. Notwithstanding this
complete confirmation of the statement, that paper, which had
previously had a great circulation in Prussia, was not allowed to
cross the boundary. This ordinance excited not a little conteihpt
and indignation, as well as much regret, for it was a favourite
journal with the Prussians. Since that time, the proprietor has
been compelled to discontinue the work, in consequence of this
great reduction of patronage.
But little cordiality of feeUng exists between the Saxons and
Prussians. The former complain of the latter as cold, proud, in
solent, and as inferior to themselves in that love of learning, whicli
has for so long a period distinguished Saxony, even in Germany.
This dislike, which commenced as early as the invasion of this
kingdom by Frederick the Great, has acquired new strength by its
recent divisions. They know that their country lies at the mercy
of Frederick William, and that whenever he chooses to invade
them, their territory will be united to Prussia, or perhaps be di
vided between that country and Austria. The comparative hbe-
rality of their own government, has made the present king, Fre
derick Augustus, more popular with his subjects, than any other
European sovereign. The heavy taxes of Prussia, the severity of
its censorship, as well as the harsh treatment that many of the
students and others have received, who were supposed to be guilty
of plots against that government ; all make them dread the em
braces of their northern neighbour. Such an event they fear may
take place, and to its arrival they look forward with an anxiety
rarely felt by nations in a state of peace. Between Prussia and
Austria they would not hesitate a moment, as their disUke to the

HOSTILITY TO PRUSSIA. 347
latter is only equalled by the hostility of Nelson to the French.
They cling, however, to their own country, with an attachment
which is not often seen on the continent ; and when they speak of
its history, from the Reformation to tjie Congress of Vienna, they
show a feeling rarely visible in the faces and actions of the Ger
mans. The time Is probably not far distant, 'when it will belong
to one or to both of these powers. The houses tff Habsburg and
of Brandenburg have been extending their dominions during the
last century, and their de,sires of an increase of territory are so
powerful, that nothing but expediency will pievent either of them
from attempting to add Saxony to their dominions. Prussia needs
this addition more than Austria ; and if it must be united to either,
it will probably fall to the fortune of the former country, as the
inhabitants are, with v^ry ^ew exceptions, Protestants.
Prussia and Saxony are the two most enUghtened countries op
the continent, and are both rapidly adyancing in knowledge and
science. Although a few years since, the Saxons could justly ac
cuse the Prussians of being intellectually tfieir inferiors, the time
will soon arrive, when to many parts of Frederick William's do
minions this change will be no longer applicable.' If Saxony must
fall a prey tb either of these countries; it is ardently to be hoped
that it may never be subjected to Austria, as half a century passed
under her vassalage, would annihilate all that learning and intelli
gence, vrhich nOw elevates that little state above every other.-
Darkness, poUtical and moral, would then cover one of the fairest
portions of tlie globe.

348

LETTER XX.

Dresden, August, 1826.
The road froin Leipzig to the vicinity of Meissen, passes through
a luxuriant country, covered 'with wheat. The Mulda, which we
crossed in a tov? boat, about fifteen, miles from the former city, is
not the cast of a stone in breadth, and yet no bridge spans the
stream. Meissen, with its cathedral crowning the hill on which it
rests, presents a fine reUef to the eye, which has so. long been wan
dering over the rich plains Of Saxony. The hUls here rise almost
to mountains, and throughout the fourteen miles between this
town and the metropolis, extensive ¦vineyards, spread from the Elbe
to the hills, which receding from that river continually diverge, and
display a wider and ¦wider valley, until you enter Dresden. In
passing from the new to^wn to the old, you see the noblest bridge
of Germany, which here crosses the Elbe ¦with its. sixteen arches.
As innundations frequently occur, in consequence of the melting
of the snow and from violent rains in the mountains of Bohemia,
the Elbe varies several hundred feet in breadth, at different times ;
its waters sometimes climbing its low banks, in the space of
twenty-four hours. The stream is now not more than one thousand
feet in breadth. The bridge which crosses it, is, however, four
teen hundred feet in length, from which you can form an idea of
the width of the Elbe, when at its greatest height.
Dresden is the classic city of Germany, and a favourite summer
residence with all those Germans, who are attracted by the charms
of polished society. The splendid collection of paintings which
its gallery presents, even to one coming from Rome or Florence,
the beauty and variety of its scenery, and the superiority of its
opera, undoubtedly exert quite as powerful an influence in attract*

THE CITY. 349
ing strangers, as the intelligent circles to which they are intro
duced. The Germans universally call it their Florence, and in
most respects, the name is not misapplied. Like the Tuscan city,
it is divided into two parts ; but the Arno is a despicable stream in
comparison with the Elbe, which even in summer, any one will
behold with great pleasure, who has not been accustomed to the
gigantic rivers of our continent. Though you see on its distant
hills no such edifices as those of Fiesole, and the elevations which
it unites, they are covered with, glowing verdure, while here and
there a bright mansion glittering, in the setting sun, arrests the eye
of the traveller, even if be has rambled in the vicinity of tJie Arno.
Though it has no'Pitti palace, with its noble collection of paiptings,
it can boast of the finest gallery in Eu^rppe. Its gallery of ancient
sculpture, is one of which any one of the smaller cities of Italy
might be proud, and which is only equalled by those of the French
and Tuscan, the Roman and NeapoUtan capitols. In its love of
the arts, Florence, at the present time, does not surpass it ; while in
intelligence and cultivation, the inhabitants of Dresden are as much
superior to those of the former city, as they are in morality. It
wants, however, the historic ch^rm, which renders Florence one
of the " fairy cities of the heart." Rome, alone; in this respect
equals the " city of Flora," where almost every street has its palace,
or its cathedral, to remind y6u of its ages of glory. Dresden is
proud of its' churches and public buildings, but' when it is'obliged to
compare itself in these respects, with the cities of the south, her
proudest monuments Of architecture are' thrown into the shade,
by the edifices which tower aloft, in the bright blpe of an Italian
sky. I
The words f Italian sky," and " ItaUan atmosphere," are so con
stantly _in the mouth of every Englishman whom you meet Upon
the continent, that an American is- very apt to anticipate, as hi is
rolling towards Italy, a beauty which he never finds. In travelling
through ila&t country, he looks in vain for that dark blue, to which
every poet alludes, for he rarely discovers it more tlian a few
shades darker than that of his native sky, whence he often con->
eludes, that his own is in no respect inferior. During more than
a year's residencein that country, I daily examined the heavens
when they were free from clouds, and not until some time hatj

350 DRESDEN.
elapsed, was I willing to admit that they were more beautiful than
our own. The pecuUarities of the Italian firmament, are the fol
lowing. The zenith is much higher, and the horizon is conse
quently much more distant. The eye seems to penetrate much
farther into the heavens, the blue having a Uquidness peculiar to
sotthern atmospheres, while ours, (I here speak of the northern
states,) has a comparative solidity. In Rome, the sky is of a
deeper blue than in any other city I have seen. In Naples, and
also in Tuscany, it is sometimes of a bluish white, as if an almost
transparent veil were spread over it. The eye is often deceived
when observing it in the cities, as then only a -small part of the
heavens are visible, and that is viewed through the long vista,
formed by the lofty buildings which rise above you. When thus
seen, the glare of the sun being destroyed, it appears many shades
darker than when you observe it in the country.* Even when
passing from the streets into ope of the large squares of the tovm,
it changes into a perceptibly lighter hue. When you observe it
from the narrow streets of the Italian cities, it has much of the deep,
blue which Byron and other poets describe, and which, from the
width of our streets, and the comparatively low buildings which
bound them, you will search for in vain in America. Scarcely a
day occurs during our summers, when bright white clouds do not
appear in Various parts of the heaven. Their brilUant folds, whieh
in whiteness yield. only to the snow, afford such a contrast to the
sky which lies beyond them, that the blue often assumes a shade
much resembling the colour of the heavens, when seen from some
one of the secondary Alps, mount Brevenet, or the grand St. Bernard,
for example. In Italy, during that season, these clouds are rarely
visible. You perceive one vast canopy of blue, without any object
above you, to enable you to examine it by the power of contrast.
When,, as is sometimes the case, the heavens are thus spotted with
clouds, the blue then assumes a depth of colour, which I have
never witnessed in our northern states. If thus beheld and minutely

* The same effect invisible, when you look at the sky through a long tube.
It is on this principle, that Flamstead's well was constructed, which, at the
depth of one hundred feet, enabled the spectator to behold tho stars during tho
day time.

ITALIAN LANDSCAPES. 351
examined, I believe any individual north of the Roanoke, would
be compelled, to admit that it is of a deeper tint than our own sky
ever assumes. Many of the Italian painters are accused of deep:
ening the blue of their canvass, until it assumes an intensity, which
even the sky of Rome never exhibits. Guercino in his picture of
Saint Bruno, and Albani in his Madonna with the infant Jesus, in
the gallery of Bologna, would, undoubtedly be censured for the
deep colour they have. given to their sky .^ Still let any one exa
mine it, during one of the few days of summer, when if is spotted
with clouds, and he will be con'ifinced that these painters have not
transgressed the bounds of truth. The horizon, also, is of a much
lighter colour than the zenith. This you see to the; greatest
advantage, while sailing on the Mediterranean. It then . often
appears as if a brilliant twilight were.^ mingling the beams of an
ascending luminary, with those of the sun. The moon there
illumines the heavens to such a degree, that they are perceptibly
blue at night. This I have occasionally seen, in our brightest
evenings in the United Stg.tes, but this colouris much less distinct
with us than in Italy. ' -
The great charm of an, Italian landscape, however, arises from
the purity of its atmosphere. From this circumstance, every object
on which your eye rests, has a distinctness unknown in any north
ern latitude. The distant palace, or village, the cliff, island, tower
or dome, which rises above the surrounding objects^ the monastery
hanging on the mountain's side or crowning some lofty eminence,
aU stalid out from the back ground, with a boldness of relief, whjch
you search for in vain with iis. I can compare it to nothing which
will give you a bettfer idea of it, when contrasted with one of our
landscapes, than the first twenty or thirty impressions of an engra
ving, when examined with the thousandth, after the plate has lost
a part of its distinctness, or to the different effect produced on a
person slightly near-sighted, when viewing a distant object, with
or without his glasses. You discover the same effect at night.
The moon in Italy does not appear to move in, the heavens as with
us, but stands out in strong relief, while the sky seems far beyond
it, very much as it is described as appearing in the Caribbean sea.
The effect of this great transparency is sucb, that distant objects
appear much nearer than in our own country, leaving on the eye %

352 DRESDEN.
perfection of picture, which I have never seen elsewhere. The
frequency of the ophthalmia, even as farnorth as Florence, and the
great number of blind persons whom you meet with in Italy, are
striking proofs of the comparative brightness of the sun's rays.
The peculiar charm of an Italian landscape, however, is felt,
when the sun is approaching the horizon. Our evenings are often
intensely beautiful, from the piles of clouds which the sun draws
around him, and which he often lights up with a radiance, which an
Englishman might -ahnost mistake for a view of a brighter world.
Near the Alps, at Venice for example, when the sun retires behind
the Friuli mountains, he veils bis dying glories with clouds of as
gorgeous a colouring, as are ever seen with us. When no summit
is near to attract them, the sun of Italy rarely sets in glory, -as it
usually disappears without a cloud to reflect its beams. But in the
rich tints which are thrown over the landscape, he fully compen
sates the Italians for the loss of our brilliant sunsets. About half
an hour beforethe sun reaches the horizon, a flood of golden light
is shed on every object. This soon assumes a rosy tint, like the
light blush on a maidens cheek, when it soon changes to a deeper
and deeper r§d. A purple of- exquisite softness gradually succeeds
it, its hue soon changing to a one of a more intense beauty, which
floating over-the landscape, transforms every object to this loveliest
of all colours. It is at this time that the bay of Naples is seen in
all its glory. At this hour the range which bounds it, and Ve
suvius the beau ideal of mountains, are melted do'wn into a soft
ness which is indescribable. Long, after the bay is shaded by the
hills , of ,Baiae and Ischia, this purple light floats from the sides and
summits of the opposite mountains, as if the sun was un^wiUing to
leave a scene so lovely.*
* An apology is due to the reader for this long digression. The subject,
though ti-ite beyond all endurance oh the continent, is, I believe, only known
to us through the medium of English Optics. Had the sky of Italy ever been
described by one of my countrymen, I would not here have rambled so far from
Germany. One not accustomed to inquire respecting the distance of tlie objects at
which he is looking, niight deny tlio accuracy of tlie statements here made,
relative to their apparent nearness when seen in Italy. I was deceived myself
for months, untiljmy rambles to distant objects, convinced mo by the time they
occupied, and the fatigue they produced, of tlie truth of this remark; While

SKY OF GERMANY. 353
The sky of Germany is decidedly clearer than that of the north
ern part of France. It is very rare that the outlines of distant
objects, seen from the towers of Paris or the elevations near that
city, appear distinctly. Here,.howeverj in a bright day, you can
see much farther, the heavens are higher and more pure, and the
moon sheds a brighter flood of light, than is ever seen north of the
Loire. This is strikingly visible during July, August, and Septem
ber. With us these months are not particularly distinguished for
their purity. Here, however, the atmosphere is then so clear, that
every object appears in a much bolder relief, than during any other
months of the year. It is at this time that the environs of Dresden
should be seten. If thus viewed, the recollection's of the traveller
who has ascended its towers, or climbed the neighbouring hills,
will be among the brightest which the cities of Europe have im
pressed upon his memory.
South of Dresden, at the distance of two miles, you are presented
from the ranges of hills which bound the valley of the Elbe, with
the finest view of the city, and the distant mountains of Bohemia.
This was the scene of one of the last great defeats which the Allies
experienced. Napoleon discovering in the distance a large number
of officers, immediately ordered fifteen or twenty pieces of artillery
to be pointed in that direction. The result was the fall of Moreau.
Alexander, who was by his side, caused a monument to be erected
to his memory. It is a small block of red granite, four feet in
length, by three in breadth. On it is placed a bronze plate, sup
porting a helmet, sword and wreath, of the same material. It has
as all monuments of the great should have, a short inscription.
Moreau der Held,fiel hier an der Seite Alexander's, den XXVII
August, MDCCCXHI.*
lying at the quarantine ground at Messina in 1823, 1 was looking with a friend
at the city of Reggio on the Calabrian coast, and asked hira what he supposed
to be the distance ; he replied four miles, My own estijnate had reduced it to
three miles. On inquiry, we found it was over ten English miles. While
walking near Florence during the spring of 1827 with an American gentleman,
I asked him what he thought was the distance of an object we were then
regarding. He said in reply, half a mile. The real distance was nearly a mile
and a half. Should any one doubt of the accuracy of this opinion, he will be
convinced of it, if he will ride in a clear day from Savona to Genoa.
* Moroau, the Hero, fell here by the side of Alexander, the 27th of August,
1813. 46

354 RiisTKAMMBR OF DRESDEN.
I visited this spot with a young Frenchman, who seemed to tread
this battle ground with triumph, as he thought of the victory gained
here by his countrymen. As it was one of the last acts of that ter
rible drama, on which a Frenchman's eye would repose with plea
sure, I was not surprised at the animation of his countenance, as
he exclaimed ; here it was that the rogues ran." " Ces fripons,
ces coquins, ces autres chiens, here they ran." As we came to
the monument of Moreau, he exclaimed, " ici repose le Traitre."
I had so often heard this officer called a traitor while residing at
Paris, that the contemptuous expression he assumed, and the em
phasis with which he pronounced the word " traitre," did not
surprise me. When Frenchmen glory in Moreau, my own coun
trymen may be proud of Benedict Arnold. The one fought
against the " Usurper," who by the way had at least as good a claim
to his throne, as any monarch in Europe, since it was given to him
by an almost unanimous vote of the nation ; the other against " the
Rebels," to defend the rights of his " legitimate sovereign." The
" Usurper" fell, and Moreau is called a hero ; " the Rebels" tri
umphed, and Arnold, even by those for whom he fought, is regard
ed only as a traitor. Had America fallen in the struggle. English
men would have appUed the same epithet they now give to Arnold,
to the names of Washington, Adams, Hancock, and Henry.
The Riistkammer, which you are permitted to see, after pay
ing an exhorbitant fee, is regarded as one of the greatest curiosi.
ties of Dresden. It presents every variety of armour from the age
of tilting and tournament, to the present time. Swor,ds and hel
mets of every form, and pistols and guns of every pattern, from
the invention of fire arms to the commencement of the last century,
fill the shelves and walls of the saloons of this armory. Here is a
pistol made by Berthold Schwarz, the celebrated Franciscan monk,
whose discovery produced such a revolution in modern warfare.
The fire is produced by the friction of a file. Here you see rooms
filled with statues clad in the armour of the electors of the sixteenth
and seventeenth centuriest knights armed for the tournament, and
their horses covered with appropriate trappings. The helmet and
armour of Gustavus Adolphus, which he wore the day before the
battle of Lutzen, are also here, and the latter still bears the marks
of a ball that bounded from it. The sword and hat of Peter the

GRilNE GEWOLBE. 355
Great, the sword and belt of Charles XII of Sweden, with the pis
tol which he had at Frederickshall when he fell ; the armour of ,
Augustus II. or Augustus the Strong, as the Saxons always call
him, from the Herculean feats he performed, and which every one
who places his helmet on his own brow will believe without hesi
tation, are among the most interesting objects of the early part of
the last century. The saddle, on which Napoleon sat at the battle
of Dresden, is the only object that reminds you of the great events
which have occurred within our recollection.
Every traveller who visits Dresden, must examine the Griine
Gew'blbe, or never be pardoned by the Saxons, notwithstanding the
keeper taxes you four rix dollars for conducting you through the
rooms where the regalia of the monarch are deposited. Should
you be fortunate enough to travel with a party of six, for more than
this number are not admitted at the same time, you can see this,
the Riistkammer, and a few other objects of curiosity, without
finding your entrance fees sensibly exhausting your purse. The
gallery is closed during six months of the year, when a similar fee
is required for a second admission. This forms a striking contrast
to the liberality of the French government, and to those of Italy,
whose gallaries and palaces are opened to strangers at all seasons
of the year. In the Griine Gewdlbe, you discover diamonds
enough to satisfy the vainest heart, and to dazzle the eyes of all
the monarchists of Europe. Hereisone weighing forty-four carats,
the fifth in size among all those which have yet been discovered.
There is another almost as large, of a green colour, which is said to
be unique. Others still, which are yellow and blue, interest you as
objects of curiosity. One or two of the ro'oms are adorned with
ornaments of ivory, the sculpture of which, though inferior to that
which is seen in the ducal palace at' Florence, exhibits much talent,
and had it been exercised in a different manner, would have left
something worthy of being remembered. The suite of rooms in
which the ornaments are kept, contains a profusion of gold and
jewels, dazzling to the eyes of such a monarch as Louis XIV. or
Charles II. and their courtiers, but affording to the good old king
who now sways the sceptre of Saxony, not a hundredth part of the
pleasure that he realises in beholding the prosperity and happiness
of his subjects.

356 DRESDEN.
The present monarch of Saxony, Frederick Augustus, is the
oldest sovereign in Europe. He was born in 1750, and succeeded
his father in 1763, having reigned 64 years. He is more beloved
by his subjects, than any monarch on the continent, and often
when speaking of him, they call him our good old king. He is a
Catholic, while only one in twenty-eight of his subjects profess
that reUgion. In 1696, Augustus the Strong, embraced the Catholic
religion, in order to acquire the crown of Poland. Since that
period, the Saxon monarchs have all belonged to ^that church.
Though ardent in his attachment to the reUgion in which he was
educated, he has none of the spirit of proselytism. His subjects
even say, that a renunciation of Protestantism is no recommenda
tion to their king, and that those who have done it apparently to
gain his smiles, have received no reward, for their apostacy. The
Saxons lament that their court is of a different religion from the
great mass of the nation ; still, so honourable has been the adminis
tration Of Frederick, and so much has he acted like a fether to
his people, that they would not exchange him for the best Protes
tant king in Europe. Though he has pursued this independent
course, and probably, from design, has never said or done any
thing to influence his people to adopt his own sentiments, stUl
many of his courtiers have embraced the religion of the monarch,
and through their influence many of the citizens have renounced
Protestantism, i
The division of Saxony, was a very severe blow to the old king.*
He protested against it, informing his subjects, that it was the
result of a compulsion, to which he was forced to yield. As he
was kept a prisoner in Berlin for a long period after the battie of
Leipzig, notwithstanding his troops embraced the first opportunity
that was presented them, of uniting against the French, he saw
that the loss of a part of his dominions, or a division of the whole
between Austria and Prussia, was the alternative ; and he accord
ingly signed the compact entered into by the powers of Europe, at
Vienna. The ardent sympathies of his people, and the reluctance
with which the inhabitants of that part of Saxony which was ceded
to Prussia, received a new sovereign, were strong evidence of the
* The Queen, who is two years younger than the King, is still living; they
were married iu 1769.

THE KING. 357
wisdom and equity of his government, and must have given him
real consolation when reflecting on this act of injustice. Though
now the monarch of one of the smallest kingdoms of Europe, he
has the pleasure of remembering, that the inhabitants are more
cultivated, and possess a superior character, to any equal number
of subjects on the continent. When he looks around"- him, and
beholds the poverty of Prussia, the semicivilizationof the Russians,
the physical character of the Austrians, and contrasts them with
the prosperous and intelligent Saxons, he finds at least in times of
peace, a satisfaction, which his neighbo.urs may look for in vain.
I can scarcely conceive of a more enviable situation, unless that of
Washington should be excepted, .
"  Whose was the all cloudless glory
Of having freed his country,"
than that of a monarch, who like Frederick Augustus, can look
upon his people with the feelings of a parent, and discover
wherever he goes, that they regard him with the strongest affec
tion ; who in looking around him, sees prosperity blessing the
labours of his industrious subjects, and finds them continually
rising in the scale of existence ; , who in traversing his dominions,
learns that there is not a village where themeans of instruction are
not provided for every peasant, and that scarce an individual
exists, who has reached adult years, that has not availed hirriself of
the opportunities which have been afforded to him, to gain
knowledge ; who, at the same time, perceives a literary enthusiasm
and research among the enlightened men of his nation, by tvhich
the boundaries of the human mind are enlarged, and discovers that
the happiness of the world has been greatly augmented by the
institutions he has founded and patronised, remembering as he
does, that prayers are continually ascending from the hearts of his
subjects, that he may long be continued to them, as the greatest
earthly blessing which they can receive.*
The king is ardently attached to the CathoUc religion, and at
public worship exhibits a devotion rarely seen among the monarchs
of Europe. His great liberality to Lutheranism, for he does not
believe that there is but one road to heaven, has prevented his
* This good old King died a few months after the date of this letter.

358 DRESDEN.
peculiar sentiments from lessening the attachment of his subfects.
In fact, few of these appear to be desirous that he should change
them. You must not infer from this remark, that they do not
feel the same attachment to Protestantism, which distinguished
their ancestors during the Reformation. They would rejoice to
see a king who believed as they do ; but still they think that their
sovereign is so sincere in the creed of his church, that he could
not change his sentiments with sincerity ; and that such a step
would consequently greatly lessen his happiness.
For feome months, a violent controversy has existed in Saxony
between the Catholic and Protestant divines, which has awakened
much Of the mutual spirit of hostility, that existed here three cen
turies ago. The Protestants accuse the CathoUcs of making use
of every means, however dishonourable, of gaining proselytes;
and do not bcsitate to say, that papal gold has been distributed in
many instances, to promote this object. The clergymen of the
Lutheran church of this city and Leipzig, thunder from their pul
pits against the dangers which threaten Saxony. Sermon after
sermon is published, and edition after edition appears. Even pro
fessor Krug, the most ^distinguished philosopher of Leipzig, lays
aside his .speculations, and arms himself vrith the pen of contro
versy, to put the Saxons on their guard. To these attacks the
Catholic bishop replies, with all the arguments which creeds and
councils can furnish. Towards this theatre of sectarian conflict,
the eyes of all seem to be turned, with the hope of driring the
enemy from the field.. In Leipzig, professor Tschzirner pubUshes
book after book, and pamphlet after pamphlet against papacy ;
and by his research and logic, gains, if we may believe the protes-
tants, a most tri,umphant victory. The poor bishop, for there is
but one here, finds it no easy matter to read all the works which
are fired at him ; and still more difficult to answer them. He,
however, replies from time to time, warning his fiock of the dan
gers of heresy ; and by pointing to the flames which are enkiiidled
to receive such as dare to disbelieve, he is enabled to keep his
pheep from straggling too far from the right way. Some of these
pamphlets which I have read, abound with argument ; and all of
them with strong feeUng.

RELlGIOtS CONTROVERSY. ^9
This excitement Is not confined to Saxony. Before leaving
Berlin, a number of the Prussians had embraced the Catholic reli
gion, and the public pulse began to beat powerfully. The prince
of Anhalt Kothen, with his wife, and her brother, had made a
public profession of their belief in the pope, as the spiritual
governor of the church of Christ. She is a natural daughter of
the late king of Prussia, and from him received the title of duchess
of Brandenberg. The present monarch, though not publicly treat
ing her with the respect shown to the legitimate children of his
father, manifested in private all the affection of a brother. He
became exceedingly attached to her ; and has always felt an unusual
interest in her happiness, when we consider the nature of the rela
tionship. Hearing that her mind was troubled on this subject, he
Wrote her a very long letter, requesting her not to take this step
without consulting him ; to which she assented. Her renunciation
of Protestantism under these circumstances, gave hirii not a little
pain ; and excited much curiosity in BerUn, relative to the probable
conduct of the king. Her brother, who had made a similar -pro
mise, received orders after his apostasy, as was reported, not to
appear again in the metropolis, where he would not be allowed to
remain. Copies of the letter of the king appeared in the circles
of that city, the week before I left it, where they were perused
with great interest by the inhabitants. Since that time it has'
been published,; and has given rise to more speculation, than any
production which has appeared for a long period. ' It is a curipsity,
even in these days of controversy, to see a monarch entering the
field of sectarianism with pen in hand, to defend the doctrines of
Lutheranism ; strongly reminding one of the work of Henry the
Eighth, for which he received the title of Defender of the Faith.
The library of Dresden is one of the most valuable in Germany,
and in the present monarch it has found a most munificent patron.
This noble collection, at the succession of Frederick Augustus in
1763, contained but seventy thousand volumes. Soon after he
ascended the throne, he purchased the library of count Henry von
Bundu, containing 42,000 volumes, and a few years afterwards, that
of count Briihl, consisting of 62,000 more. Since that period'
it has been much augmented by the liberal appropriations which
he has made to it. It is not rich in manuscript, of which there

360 LIBRARY OF DRESDEN.
are less than three thousand, but in its two hundred and forty
thousand vojumes, you discover most of the great literary efforts
of the human mind. It occupies the second story of the Japanese
palace, where it was removed in the year 1788, and is arranged,
according to the different subjects, in twenty-two of the saloons and
rooms of this edifice. One is devoted to manuscripts, another
to geography; one of the saloons and five of the rooms to history
the history of literature, &c. Oriental literature, works on the
fine arts, romances, lexicography, medicine, &c., have each a
separate apartment. The works on theology fill several, among
which, one room is devoted exclusively to the writers on . Luther
anism. Though the library of Gottingen can boast of a more
valuable historical collection, it is inferior to this in works on
classical Uterature. In this department, few Ubraries can compare
with it. It contains many of the earliest editions of the Grecian
and Roman writers, among, which are a Homer, printed in 1488,
jEsop, in 1480, Euripides, in 1496, Strabo, in 1472, Herodotus, in
1474, Horace, in 1471, &c. &c. The manuscripts, unless some of
the 500 in oriental literature should be excepted, are none of them
older than the nintli century. Among the German manuscripts
are many unpublished poems of Hans Sachs, and several volumes
of the letters of Luther and Melanchthon. Here are also many
written by Grotius, Pope Sixtus, V. &c.
The library is open every day, except the Sabbath, for consul
tation, and all the citiziens are permitted to resort to it. Students,
and many of the inhabitants, are allowed to take books to their
houses, with almost the same freedom as from a circulating
library. Two such institutions as the gallery and library of
Dresden, you will easily suppose, exert a most auspicious influence
on the taste and intellect of the inhabitants, and to this influence is
this metropolis not a Uttle indebted, for the superior cultivation of
its citizens to those of any other town in Germany.
The arrangement of the library is very simple, and perfectly
intelligible. Even a stranger would be able, in a very short period,
to lay his hand on any work which is to be found on its shelves.
The saloons are very large, and decorated with great taste. In
this respect I have seen nothing but the Vatican to compare with
it. What a noble monument of liberality has Frederick Augustus
presented to his people. How much superior is such a legacy to

TlECK. 361
the monuments and arches of triumph, erected in Paris during the
reigns of Louis XIV. and of Napoleon, in commemoration of their
victories. Had Frederick done nothing else to endear him to his
subjects, it would be said, that' he had not lived in vain. The
influence of this library in elevating the character of the Saxon
nation, will be felt for ages. Such a one in the centre of the
United States, like the fountains of Syria, would cause the almost
Uterary desert of our country, to rejoice and blossom as the rose.
Dresden is the residence of many of the German literati. H^re
are more distinguished poets than in any other city, as well as
scores of rhymers. Though it has never given birth to any of the
very celebrated poets of Germany, except Korner, it has been the
residence at different times of many of them. Among these, Tieck,
who now resides here, is one of the most distinguished poets and
critics of the present age. During his residence at Jena, he
became acquainted with A. W. and F. Schlegel, and united at a
subsequent period with the former, in editing the Musenalmanack,
for the year 1802. He and his coadjutor, soon appeared among
the most distinguished critics of the age, and ultimately placed
themselves at the head of the romantic school of Germany. A
literary war soon arose in this country on this subject, in which
they are generally thought to have gained the triumph. Tieck
published several volumes of poetry, as early as 1799. Afterwards
he presented to his countrymen an admirable translation of Don
Quixote, and, at a subsequent period, one of old English plays.
Within a few years he has written a number of novels, among
which die Gemdlde, and die Verlobung, have gained him great
reputation. Though these •works, in unison- with many others which he has
published, have placed him among the most distinguished'writers of
his country, his friends, and, it may be said, with truth, all
Germany, are anxiously looking for the appearance of his great
work on Shakspeare, to which he has devoted most of his time
for the last twenty years. His enthusiasm for the great dramatist
is not surpassed by that of his friend, A. W. Schlegel, in his work
on dramatic literature, or by Goethe, in his Wilhelm Meister. He
informed me, that he not only considered him the greatest genius
that had ever lived, but that there was a very great distance
47

362 DRESDEN.
between his and every other mind. This work which is nearly
finished, if we may believe his countrymen, will exhibit not only the
most intimate knowledge of the English poet, but a much more
complete view of English literature, during the age of Shakspeare,
and those which precede it, than has ever appeared. Many who
know the immense research, and superior critical powers of
Tieck, are looking 'with great anxiety for its appearance, con
fident as they are, that it will be a national triumph to Germany
over the critics of England, who have attempted to analyze the
poetic character ofthebarij of Avon.
In preparing this work, he did not think it was enough to simply
study Shakspeare, and the age in which he flourished. He has
not only made himself familiar with the works of all the poets
who were his contemporaries, but of those also who preceded
him, from the commencement of English poetry. To understand
the obsolete allusions of his plays, he has become intimately
acquainted, as far as it is possible at this remote period, with the
manners and customs, the state of society, the amusements, and
the legends of different periods of English history. To feel Uke
an Englishman, and to imbibe the national feeUng towards Shaks
peare, (for England with her separation from the continent, has
retained even to this day a distinct character,) he visited Great
Britain a few years since, and passed nine months in studying the
character of the people, and in tracing out those few vestiges of a
former age, which still exist, in the amusements and conversation
of the peasantry, and of other classes of society. Even this did
not appear to him to be an adequate preparation for his work.
To be able to compare Shakspeare's mind with those of the great
poets of other nations, he has become so familiar with the Utera
ture of the south of Europe, that in listening to his conversation,
you would often beUeve that he had made the poetry of these
countries the great object of his pursuits, did you not discover by
his illustrations, that he was equally familiar with that of the
north. From his thorough knowledge of modern as well as ancient
poetry, as well as from his susceptibility to the sublime and
beautiful in the natural and ideal world, his conversation is more
interesting than that of almost any man I have yet seen in Ger
many. His views on criticism are more profound, his intellectual

TIECK. 363
horizon more extended, and the objects of beauty and grandeur
which it embraces are more numerous, than you often find among
the intellectually great of any age. During a long residence in
many of the capitals of Europe, he has lost all that reserve, if he ever
possessed it, which is so often observed among the literati of this
country. His manners are frank, united with a polish, rarely seen
among the savans of Europe. His knowledge of the world gives
him the full command of all his powers. With a fluency of utter
ance which cannot be surpassed, and with a perfect command of
his rich and nervous vernacular language, he enters into every
literary subject with an enthusiasm that gives a peculiar life and
beauty to his conversation, and which secures the intense interest
of every auditor. His countenance, at the same time, varies with
every new thought, and in his eye and gestures, you discover an
animation and force of expression, which such an intellectual
enthusiasm as he exhibits could alone awaken.
Tieck, at the present time, fills the office of reader to the queen
of Saxony. He is reputed to be the best reader in Germany ; no
one, not even the most distinguished playerSj beiug able to modu
late their voices with the same taste, and express every passion of
dramatic poetry vrith the same eloquence as himself. To gratify
his friends and others, he often reads Shakspeare to small circles
assembled at his house to listen to him. I was so fortunate as to
be present when he read " Much Ado about Nothing." He rrierely
mentioned the names of the characters at the commencement of
the different scenes, adapting his voice to each with an accuracy,
that left you never in doubt as to the dramatis personce who were
speaking. His ¦voice has great compass, an easy modulation, and
a power which it is difficult to rival, even on the stage. The
characters of the play became, under his enthusiastic elocution,
real beings, and so animated were his gestures, and so marked was
his face with the ever-varying expression of the characters, that it
was no difficult thing to believe that you were listening to a
theatrical representation. Had he embraced the profession of a
player, I am convinced that he would haye risen far superior to
any one now living in Germany. Several of the distinguished per
formers on the stages of Dresden and Vienna, were present at this

364 DRESDEN.
perusal, to whiclj they listened with the greatest interest, and with
the strongest marks of approbation.
Tieck is now the director of the theatre of Dresden. Since he
has filled this office, it has acquired a reputation far superior to
what it formerly enjoyed. The small number of able players in
Germany, as well as the limited resources of the government of
Saxony, to vi^hich I may add the strong attachment of the inhabi
tants of the metropolis to. the opera, have prevented the theatre
bere from acquiring as great a reputation as those of Berlin and
Vienna. Without adequate means, even the instructions and spirit
of Tieck, cannot elevate the stage to the character it exhibited in
the days of Iffland. He told me that the theatre was losing its
reputation throughout Germany, in consequence of a corrupt taste
which was introduced a few years since, and which was very
prevalent at the present time. This he greatly lamented, as he
viewed the stage, when properly conducted, as a most powerful
means of elevating the intellectual character of his countrymen.
Among the living poets of Germany, Tiedge, who also resides
in this city, has a very distinguished reputation. While in the
university of Halle, he devoted his time to the study of law, but
his love for poetry prevented his subsequently pursuing it as a
profession. Madame de Stedern, whose children he instructed,
left him at her death a legacy, by means of which he was enabled
to devote his time exclusively to his poetical studies. His Urania,
which appeared in 1801, established his reputation in this country,
and enrolled his name among the number of national poets. The
?' elegies and miscellaneous poems," which he published about the
year 1810, met with universal applause. Many of these, as well
as his lyrical poems, have been set to music, and have become among
the most popular iii the language. For many years he has resided
with the Frau von der Recke, at whose house the stranger ^rill
meet one of the most enlightened circles of Germany. He has
recently composed a poem on Greece, to excite the benevolence of
his countrymen in behalf of that oppressed and suffering nation.
It is written with great vigour, and exhibits a force of language
and thought, rarely seen in the efforts of a poet of seventy-three
years of age. The first part of this poem has been published for
the benefit of the Greeks. I found him surrounded by pamphlets,

TIEDOE. 365
ornaments, &c. which he was disposing of to his visitors in behalf
of a people, whose sufferings have only been equalled by the he"
roism they recently exhibited at Missolonghi. It was a beautiful
object to see a poet on the verge of the grave, rekindling the fire
of his genius, and speaking with the enthusiasm of youth, on a
subject so noble and so dear to every philanthropist. What are
you doing in the United Slates for Greece? he asked me, with great
ardour. I made as favourable a reply as was consistent with truth,
which evidently did not convey the anticipated information.
The excitement in behalf of the Greeks is universal in the north
of Germany. Concerts are held in most of the large towns ior
this object, to which the opera singers are offering their services,
with a liberality which does them honour. A splendid concert
has just been given here, the receipts from which amounted to
some thousand dollars. Dresden has contributed to this object
about twelve thousand rix dollars, and subscriptions are coming
in daily. The week that I left Berlin, an advertisement appeared
in one of the papers, signed by one of the physicians of the king,
and by two of his chaplains, addressed to the friends of the sick:
and suffering Greeks, informing the public that his majesty had
consented that subscriptions should be received for them through
out the kingdom. Frederick William, to encourage his people,
subscribed twelve hundred Frederick d'ors, nearly six thousand
dollars. This example of their sovereign was imitated in all the
large towns of his dominions. The recent fall of Missolonghi,
(towards which fortress the eyes of all Germany had been turned
for a' long period,) united to the heroic defence of its garrison, had
previously awakened the sympathies of the Prussians to an unusual
degree. Wlien this proposition was made, it was hailed by the
inhabitants ¦with the greatest enthusiasm. Wherever places for
receiving subscriptions were appointed, the result exceeded the
expectations of the monarch and the people. Between two and
three hundred thousand rix dollars have been already subscribed
in Prussia ; and from every part of the country, offerings are con
tinually received at the capital. Such a national ardour in behalf
of suffering humanity, speaks volumes in praise of that nation,
when we recollect her poverty.
This feeling was not confined to the north of Germany. The

366 DRESDEN.
same spirit was visible at Munich, and in other parts of Bavaria.
Its present monarch generously gave forty thousand guldens at one
time, and twenty thousand at another, a sum which is pqual to be
tween twenty-eight and twenty-nine thousand dollars. The Berlin
Gazettes, some months after the above was written, stated the whole
amount received by the Greek Committee of Prussia, at three hun
dred thousand rix dollars, or more than two hundred and twenty
thousand Spanish.*
The same feeling has been visible in France. The receipts of
the Greek Committee of Paris, during the year 1825, and one half
of 1826, (vid. Galignani's Messenger for Feb. 13, 1827,) amounted
to 1,472,540 francs. During the last quarter of 1826, they re
ceived 969,725 francs. Of this sum, 381,125 francs came from the
Netherlands, Holland, and the Rhine. Deducting this amount,
there were more than four hundred thousand dollars subscribed in
France, and sent to Greece, in two years. In this generous exhi
bition of sympathy for an afflicted people, I trust that those of my
countrymen who are accustomed to speak disrespectfully of the
French nation, will discover something besides levity and vanity.

367

LETTER XXI.

Dresden, Aug. 1826.
There are few objects which so strongly Convince an Ameri
can, rambling in Europe, that he is in another country, as the
gaUeries of paintings which he beholds in most of the capitals on
the continent. This subject has been rarely introduced in my
letters ; not because I felt uninterested in it,' but from the diffi
culty of giving you an accurate idea of the pictures themselves,
since probably not half a dozen even of the second rate efforts of
the great artists of Europe exist in the United States, to which I
can refer you as a means of comparison. Of the eloquence of this
art, no one who has studied these galleries can doubt ; and if he
has ever examined those of Rome, Florence, Venice or Dresden,
he will discover bodied forth, a grandeur of design, a loveliness
of form, and a beauty of colouring, which on our side of the At
lantic are found only in the ideal world. The narratives which
the sacred historians have so beautifully related ; the great events
which have agitated the ancient or modern world, the fables of
Grecian mythology, and the visions of modern poesy, are repre
sented with a talent and beauty, which astonish the beholder. In
roaming through these galleries, you see Patriarchs in all the dig
nity of their characters as fathers of their patriarchal families,,
Angels embodied in a beauty which seems superior to decay,.
Prophets whose faces are glowing with inspiration ; and in the
Transfiguration, and the Madonna di San Sisto, of Raphael, and the
Assumption of the Virgin, of Titian, (the three greatest efforts of
the pencil on canvass,) the coimtenances and attitude of Christ
and of his mother, are almost equal to any pictures which the
imagination has formed, after perusing their histories in the New
Testament. In beholding the monuments of genius which thes©

368 DRESDEN.
galleries contain, you are transported far beyond the dull state of
present existence, converse with those who have taught us how
to live and how to die ; and feel at least for a time, as if you would
follow them in their bright career to a better world. I know of no
uninspired poetry, or narrative, that speaks in more eloquent lan-
guage,'than the pencils of some of these artists ; and in thebrightest
views that I can form of the appearance of our Saviour, or of the
Virgin, I rarely if ever conceive of more ravishing loveliness of
expression, of more heavenly beauty, of a brighter beaming of an
immortal countenance, or of forms and attitudes more exquisite,
than in the wonderful compositions which have been specified. Here
is ^e genuine triumph of the pencil ; and you can almost beUeve
for the moment, that the mantle of Inspiration has fallen upon the
artist, and that he has caught a faint vision of the glory of a
brighter world. Many who have never seen the full power of
historic painting, and whose observation has been confined to the
galleries of the United States, may consider these remarks as wild
enthusiasm ; but no one who is famUiarly acquainted with the
excellence of Italian art, can fail to acknowledge that the pencil
has a power, of which he had never before formed a conception.
When examining works of this character, or those where the
actions of illustrious benefactors of the human race ar^ delineated,
the sentiment is readily admitted that this art might accomplish
much for the benefit of mankind. On turning your eyes from
such subjects however, you often behold in the next picture, the
pencil prostituted to influence an illicit imagination. Venus drawn
in all the licentiousness of her character, and the impure stories
of heathen fable, appear by the side of the Prophet or Martyr, who
is just receiving his heavenly cro'wn. On the same wall where
you discover representations of that Being who forbade the indul
gence of an impure thought, you see forms that are sylphlike,
and drawn in the most licentious attitudes ; thus leading the mind
from the contemplation of moral beauty, to that which will
betray. In most of the pictures which I have seen of the assumption of
the Virgin, the artists have attempted a representation of the
Deity. Though the German painters have not so frequently made
this attempt as those of Italy, still there are few galleries where

GALLERY OF DRESDEN. 369
you will not discover instances of this presumption, and where you
do not feel the utter powerlessness of the effort. When I first
saw representations of this nature, they gave me unmingled pain, and
mpstof those which I have since seen, have produced the same effect,
as they fall infim'tely below^the ideas that we form of the glory of
that Being, who said, " let there be light, and there %as light.''
Painters justify themselves on the ground, that Inspiration has
drawn the Creator with the attributes of humanity, that Daniel for
instance describes "the Ancient of days, with . garments white as
snow, and the hair of his liead lUip pure wool.'' They consider
their art as highly poetical, .and feel authorized to use the same
boldness as the Prophet. ¦ This argument_ does not relieve me^from
the pain I almost invariably feel,Lwhen viewing such delineations.
Titian in the jncture of the Virgin to 'which I have already referred,
has embodied after our own humble conceptions, more of the at
tributes of the Deity, than all other pictures that I have seen, and
has with astonishing beauty; exhibited his great attribute, love..
The gallery of Dresden is among the most celebrated of- Eu
rope ; indeed, it has no equals except those of Florence and the
Louvre ; and the latter of these, since it has been deprived of much
of its stolen glory, is considered by many as inferior to that of
this city. Among its fourteen hundred paintings, you discover
the names of the most distinguished artists of every school and age,
since 'the revival of painting in Italy. In the paintings of thf^t
country it is surprisingly rich, as it contains nearly four hundred
of the works of ber greatest artists. A painter from that country
could hardly fail expressing hi§ astonishment, while examining
this gallery in the^centre of Europe, to discover so much to re
mind him of his native land,.and of the great names in which his
countrymen glory. To Augustus HI. who purchased the celebra-
" ted collection of the Duke of Modena in 1745, as well as very many
admirable pictures^ in .the. larger cities of Italy and in other coun
tries, the inhabitants of Dresden are principally indebted for this
bright ornament of the metropolis. The chef d' oeuvres oi this
collection escaped the fate which attended those of the other gal
leries of Europe, during the revolutionary struggle ; as the King,
apprized of their probable fate should tjiey remain, had them re-
^ ¦ 48

370 DRESDEN.
moved to his celebrated fortress Konigstein, which the French
could never conquer.
To see Corregio's genius you must not go to Parma, for his fres
coes there are almost entirely destroyed ; and the few productions
of his pencil now in the gallery of Maria Louisa, are second and
third rate pieces, in comparison with those which you behold here.
His "Night" has been universally considered the greatest effort of
his pencil, even before the colours of the dome of JParma's cathe
dral had faded. Die heilige Nacht, " the Holy Night," as your
guide calls this picture, has attracted many artists to Dresden ; and
its reputation is so universal in Germany, that by not a small num
ber of persons, it is always associated! with the name of the Saxon
metropolis. The infant Jesus is lying in a crib or something
similar to it, while the Virgin with her arms supporting him, is
looking down upon him with the strongest expression of maternal
love, and a feeling of devotion, which such a mother would be
supposed to exhibit, when looking at such a son. From the body
of the infant proceeds a flood of glory illuminating every object,
and giving a inost beautiful relief to the prominent forms of the
canvass. The light, which he sheds upon her countenance and on
the surrounding objects, is more exquisit, and the chiaro oscuro
more beautifully distinct, than in any other effort of the pencil.
The shepherds in the back ground who regard the infant Saviour,
do not erince that admiration and wonder, which one would have
anticipated, but their faces have more of the glare of stupidity, than
it is easy to believe any countenance could exhibit, in beholding
such a scene. Here are also several other paintings of Corregio,
which exhibit his fine colouring in the happiest manner. Among
all his females, both here and in the gallery of Parma, you discover
but one expression, but one form of countenance. There is a want
of intellectual beauty in all his Madonnas, and in all his female
faces that I have seen, except his Diana, in the convent of the monks
of San Paolo at Parma. As this goddess was, at least until she
saw Endymion, an emblem of chastity, it is not surprising that the
monlfs should have adorned their walls with the picture of one,
whose example they so universally imitated. Her face in this fresco
is totally superior lo any effort of his pencil I have met with. It is
lighted up with all that loveliness, in which she appeared to the

THE GALLERY. 371
eye of the Grecian poet, when he delineated the beauty of an im
mortal. Raphaels celebrated picture of the Madonna dl San Sisto, has
been universally regarded as the greatest ornament of this gallery,
since theyear 1754, when Augustus III. purchased it of the monks of
one of the convents of Piacenza. It has been so often described, that
I will not trouble you with a perusal of its thousandth delineation^
After the Transfiguration, this is the greatest effort of his genius.
The face of the Virgin is one of the loveliest conceptions of the
minds, and is not surpassed in beauty by the Eve of Milton. The
face of the infant Jesus has the intellect of an immortal, beaming
through the features of childhood. It-is only supassed by that' of
the two young cherubs below, whose eyes are brighter and more
glo-vving with intelligence,- than any which are the work of even
Raphael's pencil. Most of the Italian painters, as well as those of
the, north of Europe, represent their angels and cherubs as infants.
Rarely do they seem to be more than two years of age, though in
a few instances, as in Titian's Assumption, you discover one or
more of them in the form of a young boy, who is just entering his
teens. Sojnetimes < you see wreaths of thepi surrounding the
Madonna, or a saint in glory, or some ^fty head? just rising above
a cloud, and looking down like so many babies, on a pope, or
Cardinal, Or monk, who is performing a miracle, to demonstrate
the truth of his. religion. These infantine faces are drawn, I
suppose,*" to convey-the idea of immortal youth, but the impression
is usually that of childhood, instead of an intellect which has been
expanding thrpugh ages. When I turn my eyes to Guide's great
picture of Michael chaining Satan in the church of the Capuchin's
at Rome, and see the etherial immortality of thp Archangel, in his
form that strength which seems a stranger to disease, and which
is superior, to, decay, united with a grace and heanty which make
criticism speechless, I cannot but fefel that the distance is vast
between so illustrious a being, and young angels' or cherubs, who
remind, you more of so many yOung - cupids, than, of immortal
spirits bowing before- the throne of God.
The most popular sacred subject with European painters is th,e
Virgin with the ipfant Saviour.; Of this you wUl find some scores
in the gallery of Dresden. It is within the^iounds of truth to

372 DRESDEN.
assert, that I have seen more than five hundred such paintings
since I have been in Europe. After this come the Annunciation
to the Virgin ; Christ giving the keys of Heaven and Hell to
Peter,- of which the popes, succeeding to the supremacy of the
Apostle, have taken good care that their flock should daily see
some delineation. Mary Magdalen with a skull as an emblem of
death, which she is steadfastly regarding. The miracles of saints,
and the deaths and martyrdom of those who died, testifying their
faith in the,Catholic religion. Among the last. Saint Sebastian
appears everywhere. He ha's a species of ubiquity, at least in
Europe. In almost every church south of the Alps, you see him
dying ; 'again he meets you in the Tyrol every few miles, either
on canvass, or in the form of a statue, hewed out of some of the .
oaks or pines which adorn the mountains of that country. So
frequently does one see this martyr expiring, before him, that he
can not avoid wishing, that he did not stand so high on the
Catholic calendar. He haunts you wherever you go, and could
you believe in material omnipiresence, you might mistake him for
a good or evil genius, presiding over your destinies. Gn the walls
of the gallery of Dresden, these subjects appear quite as often as in
those of other countries, and clearly mark the limited extent of
that horizon ¦which circumscribed the view of the aitists, and stiU
more the influence of the Catholic reUgion on the art itself.
After subjects of this character, the stories of heathen mythology
and ancient history, hold the most prominent places in this gallery.
These with the village and- domestic scenes of the Flemish school,
with here and there a landscape of Claude, or Salvator Rosa, are
those which principally arrest your attention.
Among all the rambles which a traveller can enjoy in the north
of Germany, there is none which is so much celebrated as the
Saxon Switzerland. " Have you seen the Switzerland of Saxony,"
is the question which every one of your acquaintances in Dresden
puts to you, before you have been here a week. "You must
visit it," he tells you in reply to your answer in the negative. " 1
hope you ¦NVill not leave this country until you have seen our
Switzerland," says another. "You have of course visited our
Alps?" says a third. To avoid the commiseration which always
flows from your negative reply, you order a carriage, and tell the

SAXON SWITZERLAND. 373
driver to cbnductyou to this fairy scenery, looking neither to the
right nor the left.
Leaving Dresden, you roll along on the left bank of the ElbCj
and at the distance of six miles cross That stream, nearly opposite
the palace of Pillnitz, the summer residence of the king. This
chateau, which is a blending of difli^rent styles of arc^hi tecture.
from China to Italy,- is on^of those objects which I shall leave to
future traveUers to describe ; because I can not with- my pen
deUneate that which is indescribable. 'Though in its architecture
it does not compare with most of the royal residences of Europe,
it can boast of one of the loveliest views, which monarchs have
ever beheld. To the traveller, a century hence, it will present a
political interest, which belongs to few palaces. The declaration
of the celebrated congress, which assembled here in 1791, for the
purpose of checkingthe pi-ogreSs of the French Revolution, gave
rise to a series of events, which in magnitude, and in ihe interest
which they excited during more than twenty years, have had no
parallel in the history of Europe. Leopold and Frederick William
II. knew little the power of that -spirit, which > they attempted to
curb. Their successors who were present on this occasion, have
had abundant reason to lament, that their fathers roused the
sleeping lion. '
A few - miles beyond Pillnitz you leave your carriage, 'which
proceeds by a circuitous route to Schandau, and taking a guide
soon enter the Switzerland of Saxony. The first object to which
he Conducts you, is a precipice of between' two and three hundred
feet, down vrtiich about thirty years since, a man named Hartmanh,
threw himself into the stream which flows bfeneath, without meetr
ing that fate which aH flesh is heir to. This somnambulist, for it
was inTiis sleep thathe took this leap, has endeavoured to per
petuate this event by an inscription in German rhyme, in which he
inforihs you, that " to God, the friend of man, and lo hife physician,
he was indebted for his recovery." Your guide, and all that class
of idlers, who haunt objects of resort in Europe, swear to its truth
without winkingj leaving you, for the time at least, all but con
vinced of its reality.
Having left Hartraann's rock behind us, we followed our guide
down a succession of winding steps, into a deep ravine, bounded

374 SAXON SWITZERLAND.
by precipices, which rise to the height of eighty or a hundred
feet. They gradually narrow, until they are rarely more than
twenty, and often only ten feet apart. Through this winding
channel, we walked some four or five miles, with nothing but the
voice of our guide, as he related his marvellous stories, to disturb
the almost eternal silence which reigns here. A cross, and a name
here and there cut in the rocks, remindeil us of the deaths of those
who, from time to time, have fallen into this abyss. One of these
bears the date of the seventeenth century.
After a ¦ ramble of several hours. We arrived at the Bastey,
which is considered the finest view of Saxon Switzerland. On
a projecting rock hanging over the precipice which supports it,
you discover, nearly a thousand feet below, the Elbe meandering
through the loveliest valley, even of Saxony. Konigstein, Pfaffen-
Stein, andLiliensteih, three lofty mountains, crowned with columnar
precipices of rOck, rise from the plain above every other object.
The mountains , of Bohemia are in the distance, just lifting their
blue outline above the horizon- , The rocks around the Bastey,
are of the most singular forms. They are composed of a Ught
gray sandstone, which easily yields to the action of water. The dis
solving snows, and the summer torrents which have been formed by
rain falling on this celebrated region^ have worked their way through
the rocks,_till they have assumed the " mockery of art." Here
columns are piled upon each other, with all the regularity of the
basaltic formations ; again, single rocks which have been separated
by" these torrents from the matrix, rise many hundred feet, often
with a breadth and thickness of less than, ohe-twentieth part of
their altitude. Now they are attached to the mountain mass at
their base, affording a long narrow line of bright sky between
them and the roCk to which they formerly belonged ; again they
¦stand alone, or are here and there united to a neighbouring
precipice by a line of stone, which is rapidly wearing away. The
KleinffGans, a semi-ellipse of many hundred feet outline, which is
at a short distance from the Bastey, gives you a most "striking
exhibitibn of the action of the water on this soft stone. Here
these rocks are heaped upon each other to a great altitude,
rising in columns smooth and irregular, now in the form of
cylinders or towers, again jagged and angular, till they present all

S.4X0N SWITZERLAND. 375
that wild variety, which you meet wiith in the descriptions of
fairy land. At the distance of, a few riiiles, the mountain of
Gemmerigstein elevates its cliffs in the form of , towers and
battlements, resembling the feudal castles which crown so many
of the -hiUs of Germany. The whole of this' view is so wild, and
so unlike any thing you have ever seen before, that it requires
very little effort to believe yourself in the vicinity of the residence
of some of the giants of Spenser or Ariosto.
We arrived at Schandau about sun-set, after having p3.ssed
through the Wolf's Den, over the Devil's Bridge, through wild
ravines, a,nd up lofty, heights, whero solitude loves todweU. The
DevU, in every country, has , had a peculiar attachment lo this
species of architecture, leaving his followers the privilege of
raising temples to his praise. Ip our morning's rarnble, we
entered the Devil's Kitchen, where some of my German compa
nions shouted with a voice loud enough to have ensured a repast,
had the -cook not been absent. He seems long since tO have
deserted this his former abode, for it now resembles any thipg but
a refectory. This is the only country I have Seen, where his
Satanic majesty had a residence of this- description, or where he
was obliged to provide as well as to prepare all the viahds for his
table. Schandau is one of the small watering places of Germany; to
whicli few persons resort, as the, fame of Carlsbad and Toplitz,
attract most of the idlers and invalids of this part of the continent.
We found some forty or fifty Germans and foreigners here assem
bled, more than half of , whom, like ourselves, were rambling
through Saxon Switzerland. It lies in a small valley, on the right,
bank of the Elbe, and contains but two or three thousand inhabi
tants. The next morning we again took our seats in the carriage, and
after riding a few miles by the side of a lofty eminence, whose-
projecting precipices, in several instances, were suspended over u&
as we passed beneath, we alighted to ascend the Kiihstall moun
tain. This elevation derived its iiame from the opening on its
summit, -where the Saxon peasantry, during the thirty years' war,.
concealed their cows, to prevent therti from falling into the hands
of the Austrian soldiers. Henccs they gave this place the name of

376 SAXON SWITZERLAND.
the cow-house, which has since become that of the mountain.
Tradition has preserved the narratives of many, of the heroic
actions which were performed in this Alpine region, during that
period of devastation and ruin, with all of which your guide lessens
the fatigue of your upward path, by relating to you the stories of
his ancestors. The Kiihstall^ which yon reach after a gentle
ascent of about eight hundred feet, is a large hole through the
precipice which forms the summit of this mountain, and is here
from one to two hundred feet in breadth. This gallery is about
forty feet high and sixty broad. In our ascent,- we had been most
of the time shaded by the thick foliage that rose above us, when
turnjng from the forest, the view of this huge gallery, with its
border of sunshine and the distant mountains, suddenly burst upon
us, presenting a most beautiftil vista. In ascending this summit,
not a peasant appeared to vary the monotony of the forest. , A
universal silence seemed to reign, except as it was here and there
broken by the rush of the torrent, on the roar of the distant
cascade. Coming from such a scene, you can easily reaUze, that
the vista formed by this gallery suddenly bursting upon our riew
on one of the loveliest days in June, With the bright-sunny moun
tains -beyond it, excited emotions rarely felt even in Alpine scenery.
This was greatly heightened by the groups of strangers who had
preceded us, and taken their seats, under the shade of this lofty
gallery. On the heights above, we saw the Saxon and Bohemian
peasant girls, in their beautiful costumes, in groupes and alone,
spotting the rocks, or half obscured by the foliage. They were
accompanied or followed by their lovers, and presented a striking
contrast to the wives and daughters of German gentlemen and of
foreigners, who, like ourselves, had been attracted to this place, by
the oft repeated question, have }'ou seen the Saxon Switzerland.
Here also, you behold the action of the water on the sandstone
rocks, though in an inferior degree to the Bastey. Still, there is
much that is grotesque and interesting in the variety of_their
forms. A two hours' vralk brought us to the summit of the small Win-
terberg, an elevation of twelve hundred feet, and in another hour
we reached that of the great Winterberg, which, rising six hundred
higher, overlooks all the neighbouring mountains. The view from

SAXON SWITZERLAND. 377
this eminence is very extensive, but as a whole, does not compare
with that from the Bastey. The Erzgebirge chain of summits is
seen in the south-west, marking its blue outline on the sky, while
on the east the Schneekoppe, the highest of the Riesengebirge,
iust appears in the horizon. We found here a great number of
young Bohemian peasants and peasant girls, who had availed them
selves of this festival, for it was a day consecrated to one of ^the
Saints, to ramble over their native mountains, and catch a view of
the passing strangers. A crazy Saxon, who some fifteen years
since had risen to the rank of colonel in the army of his country,
had escaped from his keeper, and rambled to the summit of the
Winterberg. For some reason, which I cpuld not divine, he
.exhibited a peculiar predilection for my society. When I changed
my place, he would soon follow me, and with a loquacity scarcely
equalled by a torrent, he. poured out streams of words on every
object that happened to catch his attention. Fortunately for me,
an English party arrived about an hour after us. Having much
of the Cavalier in his temperament, he left me the moment he
discovered them, and immediately introduced himself to one of the
young ladies. A lover could not have been more attentive ; and
as he was perfectly harmless, they allowed him to remain.^ Although
he had seen the shady side of fifty, he soon fell- a heart-ache, and
acknowledged, in the true spirit of an old Troubadour, the power
of her charms. This tender subject soon brought out a declaration
of his sentiments, which terminated in an offer of his hand. The
young lady, coming from a cold foggy island, did not exhibit that
reciprocity of feeling, which the colonel had anticipated, and
probably, believing that she doubted the truth of his assertions, he
threw himself upon his knees before her, and once more made her
a proffer of his heart and person. A second refusal induced the
old warrior to sound a retreat, and a/ter a short period, he attached
iimself once more to our party, and talked away with the rapidity
of a steam-boat^
We at length gave the Colonel the slip, by suddenly disappearing,
as we wound our way down the Winterberg. After an hour's ram
ble we reached the celebrated Brebische Thor. 'JThis is a lofty
''bridge, connecting a longpromontory with the mountain from which
it e:?:tends. This natural bridge is about sixty feet in height, the
49

378 SAXON SWITZERLAND.
chord of its arch being at least eighty, forming a large hole in the
promontory, and in appearance somewhat similar to the Kiihstall,
as descending the mountain you biehold its lofty arch impressed on
the bright blue heaven. From this promontory you enjoy one of
the finest views which these mountains present. It is circumscri
bed in comparison with that from the Winterberg, but in many
respects is preferable. After remaining here an hour, the colonel
once more made his appearance, and seemed very much gratified
to meet us again. Having had no auditors in his solitary ramble
from the summit of the Winterberg, he felt new life as he came
and took a ^eat by us, apparently resolving to improve every mo
ment. Moistening his lips with the genuine Bohemian, he opened
a battery, from which words flew at us, thicker than from a dis
charge of grape. As he had the lungs of a stentor, he rounded his
periods with the emphasis of the instruments he used to direct,
while in the field of Mars, as if resolving, that every inhabitant of
those mountains Should be edified by his eloquence. Having lis
tened for some minutes to his conversation, he proposed to make
one of our party in the boat which we had ordered to meet us at
Tetscher. Not relishing the idea of passing several hours with him,
with no means of escaping his vociferation, we once more gave him
the slip, and descended the mountain. Soon, however, on looking
back, we perceived the colonel in chase, his long lank form
moving from rock to rock, and striding chasms, at which one
whose legs were of ordinary length, would shudder. As he came
within hail, he set up a shout, and discovering that we had observed
him, requested us to stop, as he intended to accompany us. On
arriving at the base of the mountain, we perceived that the old
soldier was shortening his strides, as he had just overtaken a Ger
man gentleman and his wife, whom he had passed a short time
before. Tetscher, a few miles from the Brebrische Thor, is the first vil
lage of any magnitude in Bohemia on ascending the Elbe. Here
we met an old soldier of one hundred and three years of age. He
had served under Frederick the Great in his first campaigns. His
mind was so nearly extinguished, that he could not answer the most
simple questions. He repeated, however, the name of Frederick,
as I made some allusion to his early life, the recollections of his

SAXON SWITZERLAND. 379
youth being the only impression that remained upon his memory
during his long existence. He knew the value of money, and
seemed very much gratified to receive it, bowing with his head as
we placed it in his hand. This, with his recollections of his old
commander, were the only proofs he gave of inteUectually belonging
to our species. It was a melancholy sight to behold the mind
thus in ruins, while his vision and frame still retained much of their
original vigour.
Here we found that our boatmen had arrived from Schandau,
and embarking, we were soon moving down with the current. Not
a cloud was in the heavens, and through a transparent atmosphere
the sun was shedding a flood of golden light upon precipice.
mountain, hill, and valley. The banks of the Elbe are in the
highest degree picturesque, varjdng from plain to mountain, vrith
rocks of every variety of form, now partially obscured by foliage,
and again revealing their steep cliffs, whose ruggedness was soften
ed by the mellow light which seemed to penetrate it.
Near the boundary of Saxony we discovered the form of a pro
file, projecting its huge nose and lips beyond the Cliff to which it
was attached. To this the boatmen for more than a century have
given the name of Augustus the Strong, concerning whom many
Saxons speak with the enthusiasm you observe in a Parisian, when
looking at the monuments of the grand Monarque. As the court
of Augustus was the most splendid in Europe after that of Versailles,
they have paid a compliment to the French king, by naming another
profile about twenty miles below it, Louis the Fourteenth. A third
which resembles a female, they call the wife of Louis. Whether
this is a representation of the Spanish Maria Theresa, or of Madame
de Maintenon, neither our boatmen nor my companions could in
form me. It was probably intended as a compliment to the latter,
as the former died some six or seven years before Augustus ascend
ed the throne. Could that much loved mistress and wife have
seen it, she would not have felt elated, unless her picture which
we see in the Louvre, has derived most of its beauty from the
flattery of the artist.
At Schandau where we arrived at sunset, we found new travellers,
waiting for the morning light, to continue their rambles. Wishing

380 FORTRESS OF KONIGSTEIN.
to pass near the celebrated fortress of Konigstein, we ordered our
carriage to meet us at Pirna, and at an early hour embarked on
board of our barge. Konigstein, the "virgin fortress" as the Sax
ons style it, for it has never been taken, is perhaps the only one in
Europe which can be called impregnable. Formerly, foreigners
were permitted to visit it, but a short time since a law was passed,
forbidding the admission of every one whose birth was not in
Saxony. As I was thus prevented from examining its interior,
my brief description will be that which I received from my guide>
who has frequently visited it, and from several Saxons who are
very familiar with its construction. The mountain on which, it
stands is 1200 feet above the level of the Elbe. The first half of
the ascent the angle is at least 60 degrees. On nearly three of the
sides, for it is in the form of a parallelogram, a huge precipice of
sand stone rises 600 feet higher, and in no part of it is it less than
three hundred. A winding path leads to the fortress, which is
ascended with great difficulty, and this is entirely commanded by
the garrison within. Around its edge is a lofty wall, which, even
one who had gained the summit of the rock, would find impossible
to surmount. It encloses a tract of many acres that is always in
a high state of cultivation, and which ordinarily yields sufficient
produce to support a garrison of 600 men.* At an immense ex
pense, a well has been excavated through this rock, to the depth
of eighteen hundred feet, which jields the purest water. The
walls are sufficiently extensive to mount several thousand pieces
of cannon, though a hundred are sufficient to command the plain
which spreads below. No enemy can approach securely within
three miles of it. When Napoleon first conquered Saxony, he
ordered several engineers to ascend the Lilienstein, a mountain
three miles distant, on the opposite side of the Elbe, to ascertain
whether it was practicable to make any impression upon the for
tress. They found, however, that their balls fell without producing
any effect, and after two days' trial they abandoned the undertaking.
Unless the steam guns of Perkins should be found to possess a
* By supplying the soldiers with wives, I see nothing to prevent its being
defended against a siege for centuries.

LUNATIC ASYLUM OF PIRNA. 381
much greater propelling power than powder, it will probably for
ever remain impregnable. As Napoleon could not take it, he or
dered the king to deliver it up to him, or give him three millions
of rix dollars. He chose the latter, as his regalia, and all the chef-
d'oeuvres of his gallery, had been previously removed thither.
A garrison of six hundred men are alvvays stationed here, to pre
vent surprise, as it is not more than ten miles from the Austrian
boundary. The view of this fortress, as you approach it, is very imposing.
The form of the mountain is unlike any other in Europe, those of
Saxon Switzerland excepted. Its lofty wall of rock exhibits much
of the artificial construction of that erected by the engineers
around the summit. As we passed below, I could distinctly see
with a glass the sentinels pacing its ramparts, and even with the
naked eye, could just perceive gleams of light reflected from their
muskets, though the men had dwindled to Lilliputians.
At Pirna is one of the principal lunatic asylums of Saxony.
For neatness. and discipline it is excelled by few on the continent.
The patients are about one hundred and thirty in number, two-thirds
of whom are men. Most of the females, as the attending physician
informed me, had lost their reason from disappointed love. As this
passion is said to be more deep and lasting in Germany than in any
other country on the continent, it is not perhaps surprising that it
has thus affected the minds of so large a proportion of the sufferers.
Here is a machine designed to lessen the pressure of blood on the
brain. A platform, in the form of a bed, is attached to a cylinder,
which, by means of v/heels and ropes, is made to revolve with
greater or less rapidity. The patient is placed upon this, with
his feet^at the extremity. A rapid revolution gives a far more ac
celerated motion to the feet than the head, and causes the blood to
fly to the former. In most cases, this motion affords the patient
great relief. In those which are very violent, they resort to baths,
of which there is a great variety. In some, the water is thrown
from- a tube, the size of the stream being lessened or increased at
pleasure. If this produces no effect, the invaUd is made to sit up
in the bath, when several large buckets of water are dashed upon
his head. The electrical shock of this element, coming as it

382 LUNATIC ASYLUM.
sometimes does from the height of ten feet, has in every instance
afforded some relief. This violent shock, is always succeeded by
an agreeable sensation, and for a time the patient is easily govern
ed. Most of the persons in this asylum are deranged but on one
subject ; on all others they are perfectly rational.

383

LETTER XXII.

Dresden, 1826.

The Gymnasia of the north of Germany, are among the most
interesting features of the literature of this country. They have
long been considered superior to those of any other part of Eu
rope ; and at no period within the last century, have they enjoyed
a higher reputation, than at the present time. It is at these insti
tutions that the foundation has been laid for that fame, which so
many of the savans oi this country have acquired ; and it is to
them that the universities are indebted for their extensive reputa
tion. No part of Germany has equalled Saxony in its system of
classical education ; and no where have the gymnasia attained that
elevated character, which they have long exhibited in this Uttle
kingdom. It is true that Prussia within a few years has greatly
improved her classical schools, and is rapidly advancing towards
that excellence, which you so often Observe while examining the
institutions of her southern neighbour. Some few of her schools
may almost challenge a comparison with those of Dresden, Meis
sen, and Leipzig ; still, as a nation, she is decidedly her inferior.
This results from her great extent ; for the literary wants of a
country, limited in territory and population, are much more under
the eye of the government, than those of a nation like Prussia,
which spreads over more than seventeen degrees of longitude.
Her monarchs since the time of Frederick the First, have been so
much occupied with national aggrandizement and war, as to have
very little time to devote to the literary improvement of their sub
jects. Frederick the Great re-organized the Academy of Berlin ;
but he did little to improve the universities and gymnasia of
Prussia. Since the accession of the present king, more has been
effected lo advance the literature of that country, than had been
done for half a century, before ; and although inferior in this

334 DRESDEN.
respect to Saxony, and perhaps to Weimar, in proportion to her
extent and population, she can claim the first rank among the
remaining states of Germany.
Southern Germany (I here except Wiirtemberg and Baden,) is a
century behind the north, not only in her schools and universi
ties, but in every thing which raises man on the scale of intellectual
existence. The late king of Bavaria, Maximilian Joseph, in the
latter years of his reign, by increasing the salaries of the instruc
ters, did much to improve the gymnasia of his country. Till
within five years, their incomes were so limited, that few men of
talents would embrace this profession ; and the few that from
poverty or other causes were compelled to pursue it, received invi
tations to fill the vacancies in the gymnasia of the north, as soon
as they had acquired eminence. The present king, Ludwig Karl
Augustus, is making every effort to elevate the intellectual charac
ter of Bavaria ; and there is reason to hope, notwithstanding the
opposition of the priests, that in a few years he wiU be able to
place the learned schools of his kingdom on the same footing with
those of the north. The gymnasia of Austria, are such as one
would anticipate from a sovereign, who declared to one of the
literary men of his empire, that " he did not want any learned
men, he only wanted good subjects," or in other words those who
would remain perfectly submissive, and pay without a murmur
the exorbitant taxes which are imposed upon them.
During my residence in Germany, I have visited many of these
institutions, particularly those of Saxon)-. The remarks which
will here be made respecting them, are in many respects apph
cable to those of a superior character, in most of the northern
states, but more particularly to those of this little kingdom. The
word gymnasium as is well known, literally denotes the place
where gymnastic exercises are taught. In the Spartan schools of
this character, the youth were accustomed to run, wrestle, and
perform other athletic amusements, to giie to their bodies that
strength and vigour, so indispensably necessar}- to ancient war
fare. In Athens and Rome, similar schools were established; but
to them were united a corresponding improvement of the mind.
Here their most distinguished philosophers and rhetoricians gave
their lectures ; and here those young men were educated, who

GYMNASIA. 305
were at a subsequent period to fill the most important • offices in
civil and miUtary affairs. In Germany, the word gymnasium Is
appUed to those schools, where the youth who are designed for
the universities, receive their preparatory education. In some of
them, gymnastic exercises are pursued with ardour ; but in most
of them they have ceased entirely.
These schools owe their modern origin to the Reformation.
Fortunately for the cause of Uterature, Melanchthon and Luther
saw the necessity of providing other means of education for their
countrymen, than those which had previously existed. To this
subject they devoted much of their attention ; and through their
influence, the funds of the monasteries which had been confiscated
by the dukes and electors of the north, were appropriated to this
object. Hence arose many of the universities and gymnasia of
this part of Germany, which at that period were so well endowed,
that they have continued burning and shining lights to the present
time, and promise to enlighten miUions yet unborn. To this event
we must impute much of the intellectual superiority of the north
to the south of Germany. In whatever Ught an enUghtened
Catholic may view the expulsion of the monks and the confisca
tion of their property, he will be forced to acknowledge, that a
great temporal good has resulted from it.
The gymnasia of this country are divided into two classes :
those which are private, where the boys are constantly under the
eyes of the instructers, who live with them in the same edifice ;
and those which are public, and which are established in the large
towns, where the youth reside in the city, and recite and attend
lectures at the gymnasium. The last class are frequently called
schools, with an appropriate name, sometimes still retaining that
of the patron saint of the church near which they are situated.
The instruction, however, corresponds so nearly with that of thb
more private institutions, that they will here be included under the
same name.
At the head of these schools is a Rector, or President, and a
Conrector, or Vice-President. The instructers are divided into
two classes, Ober und Ujiter Lehren, literally, upper and under
teachers. Before an instructer is permitted to occupy a vacant
place, he is examined by the Priifungs Commission, which con-
50

386 GYMNASIA.
sists of the professors of the university who lecture on those sub
jects which are taught in the gymnasium, and of the directors of
the gymnasium. The first class of teachers must have made such
progress in the department in which they desire to teach, as to be
qualified lo give lectures al one of the universities. The second
class must have a thorough knowledge of their particular province.
If lo instruct in Greek or Latin, for example, they are required to
be familiar with the principal writers, and to possess a critical
knowledge of these languages. The same minute acquaintance
with their departments, is necessary in the other branches of in
struction. The examination lasts five or six hours, and if found
qualified, they are permitted to fill the vacant place of Unter Lehrer
in any of the gymnasia which is offered to them. The salaries of
the Rectors in Prussia, vary from one thousand lo twelve hundred
dollars ; those of the Conrectors are somewhat smaller. The first
class of teachers receive from seven to nine hundred, the second
from three to six hundred, though this varies much with the funds
of the institution, as well as with the size of the city in which the
gymnasia are situated. The former class are required to instruct
the students twelve, the latter twenty-four hours per week. They
also increase their incomes, by giving private instruction to those
children whose parents desire it.
The boys usually enter these institutions from nine to thirteen
years of age, and remain from five to sevffn years, in proportion
to the improvement they have made. The first two or three years
are devoted to acquiring a knowledge of Greek, Latin, and mathe
matics ; in which they are drilled with a minuteness of intellectual
discipline, which I have never seen in the other schools of Europe.
The succeeding years are passed in pursuing history, ancient and
modern geography, French literature, Latin and G^-eek exegesis, &c.
To acquire a thorough knowledge of these languages, theyare taught
to ¦write and speak Latin, and in some of the institutions to write
Greek. Subsequently, they translate from Greek into Latin, and
sometimes from Latin into Greek. All the conversation, when
the recitation is classical, is then held in Latin. The boys write
Latin prolegomena lo the ode or book they are reciting, which is
first criticised by their companions, and then by the professor.
The desire of victory that you often see in the objections which

GYMNASIA, 387
the rival scholars bring against the individual to whose dissertation
they have listened, as well as the ingenious defence which he makes,
calls forth a literary enthusiasm in these combats, which would
excite the admiration of any one, who had seen only the grammar
schools of our country. In some cases, they write Latin poetry,
by translating an ode of Klopstock or Schiller, or if they are the
favourites of Apollo, they present their own effusions in Latin
verse. These are publicly read by the authors, and criticised by
their companions, and then by the instructer. Those who do not
possess this talent, write Latin prose, which is read and examined
minutely by their companions. The instructers often dictate to
them passages from the poetical and prosaic works of the German
classics, which they translate into Latin. They, are then required
to read il, and one after another is called upon to point out the
defects which exist in the tra,nslation, giving his reasons in Latin.
By pursuing this course for several years, you will easily per
ceive that they must attain a knowledge of the grammatical struc
ture of that language, unknown in most countries. Accordingly,
you discover that most German students speak it with great
fluency and correctness.
The same severe discipline is pursued in other languages, though
in none excepting the French, do they arrive at a similar degree
jof excellence, it not being thought necessary to speak either Greek
or Hebrew.
In the languages, they read a part or the whole of Euripides,
the lUad and Odyssey, Xenophon, Herodotus, Demosthenes, Aris
tophanes, &c. Virgil, Horace, Cicero, QuintiUan, Tacitus, Livy,
.&c. some of the French classics, and a few books of the Old Tes
tament in Hebrew. In mathematics, they study arithmetic, geo
metry, trigonometry, conic sections, spherics and logarithms. In
few, if any, of these institutions, are natural philosophy, chemis
try, botany, and mineralogy, pursued farther than lo become ac
quainted with the great outlines of these sciences.
Theological instruction is given twice a week, to which two
hours are appropriated. Niemeyers manuel of theology is more
used than any other. This is studied and recited by the students,
who afterwards receive an explanation or illustrations from the
instructer. The school is divided into six or seven classes, in

388 OYMNASIA.
addition to those of Hebrew and French, for all the scholars do
not study these languages. When one of them does not maintain
his proper standing, he descends to the class immediately below
the one of which he was a member. You find, it is true, some
who do not make great progress, for dunces exist here, as well
as in other countries. You observe however an enthusiasm, an in
tellectual discipline, and a proficiency, which, so far as my know
ledge extends, you will find in the schools of no other country.
The great superiority of these institutions, results first from the
exegetical mode of instruction. The remarks I have made on this
subject in reference to the universities, are equally applicable to
the gymnasia. It is true that exegesis is not pursued here ¦with
the same ardour as in those institutions, for this is impossible while
laying the foundation of an education. It is pursued however
to a greater degree than in most universities of other countries
even of Europe. This mode of studying throws a charm around
classic literature, which makes it almost a fairy land to a student.
With us "the dull hard lesson is crammed down word by word,"
until the student often hates his Horace, as much as ever Byron
did. In the mere dull translations which we make in our grammar
schools and colleges, all the " lyric flow" of the poet is lost. We
read the language, and often translate it into words corresponding
¦with those of the original, but the impression made on the mind of
the student in usually so indistinct, that he wonders how any one
can compare ancient with modern poetry. Why is this ? It is be
cause his previous education has not qualified him for feeUng the
beauties of the author he is perusing. He lives in a country whose
religion, laws, government, state of society, customs, philosophy,
language, natural features, in one word, almost every thing but
the heavenly bodies which illumine it, present a different aspect
from those of Greece and Rome. How could one of Napoleon's
guard have understood the retreat of the ten thousand, if he had not
previously become acquainted with the armour, marches, mode of
fighting, and evolutions of the ancient world : how could Nelson
have comprehended the battle of Salamis, from merely a knowledge
of modern naval tactics? I have seen many intelligent Europeans,
who although they have had almost daily opportunities of studying
our institutions for years, were stiU unable to comprehend the na-

GYMNASIA. 389
ture of their influence on society. How often do we see French
men, even when Shakspeare is presented to them, unable to dis
cover its beauties, when only a channel of twenty miles separates
them from that land, where almost every heart beats to the sound
of his lyre. If our contemporaries find it so difficult to understand
our national character and literature, because they will not for the
time lose their local feelings, and adopt those of the country whose
institutions or literature they are examining, how is il possible for
us to comprehend ancient authors without a previous knowledge of
every thing relating to the moral, political, religious, and natural
character of Greece or Rome ?
Without a minute acquaintance with ancient Greece, most of the
Ufe, the beauty, and the sublimity of her poetry disappears. The
mind wanders over the pages of its bards, without being much en
lightened, the heart never feels those exquisite allusions and com
parisons, which arose in the poet's mind, when contemplating the
country of his birth. To such an eye some of the noblest creations
of Grecian genius, some of the brightest conceptions of uninspired
poesy are almost without form and colourless. The vale of Tempe
presents no more loveliness, than one of our western prairies ;
the temples of their deities are as destitute of beauty, as a Chinese
pagoda, or the residence of Juggernaut. While studying the
page of Homer, he feels as Byron did when looking at the poUtical
degradation of the classic land of that poet ;
'"Tis -Greece, but living Greece no more."
to him every object is inanimate, and he turns from the perusal of
the bard who has been the delight of more than one hundred gene
rations to read the ephemeral rhymes of the day ; and in their
jingle he perceives more melody ; andin their comparatively insipid
thought he finds more feeling and energy, than in the verse of him,
who has been the wonder of ages.
Why is this great difference between a German and an Ameri
can youth? There is as much of the grand and beautiful in our
natural and poetical world, as in his. We are not less susceptible
to the influence of real or ideal ioveliness. Our minds and our
hearts are as, much excited by a perusal of Hamlet, the Midsum-

390 GYMNASIA.
mer's Night Dream, or Comus, as his by Faust or Wallenstein, or
Oberon. The difference is this. He reads Homer with the eye
of a Grecian who is familiar with its society, and with the thoughts
and actions of the heroic age ; we peruse the Iliad with vie'vvs
formed solely by the manners and feelings, and systems of the
nineteenth century. The former by his prerious studies, has been
able to transport himself to a distant age and people, while we,
standing at the distance of nearly three thousand years, look with
the feelings we have acquired from our peculiar education, at a
country which seems indefinitely remote. To him the siege of
Troy is a living reality, and the characters of Sophocles, .^schylus
or Euripides, are all embodied. He shares in every passion which
they feel, for he is a spectator of their sufferings ; their joys, their
deliverance relieve him from a distress, almost as real, as if he had
been their contemporaries. To him they are living beings, acting
their appropriate part on the great theatre of Ufe : to us they are
but spectres, dimly seen through the night of ages, and flitting be
fore us in forms so indistinct, as to leave few traces of their exist-
jence upon our memories. This is not fancy ; it is no Utopian sys
tem of education, but one which has long existed in Germany.
The admirable commentaries which are within the reach of every
student, and a,bstracts of which are made the text book of every
gymnasium, and still more the superior character of the instructers,
whose research and unwearied application enable them to explain
the most difficult passages, in a satisfactory manner to the student's
mind, give the existences of the poetic world of Greece that reaUty,
which we assign to the characters of Tasso or Shakspeare. With
such assistance, his enthusiasm is soon excited ; he wanders through
.ancient Greece with enlightened guides to explain to him every
.natural or moral, every religious or political feature of the country.
He becomes as familiar with its rivers and lakes, its mountains
jand valleys, as with those of his native land, and though inhabit
ing a distant kingdom, the men who lived in the histories of
Greece, or in the songs of her bards, become the companions of his
imind. There is another advantage which these institutions enjoy over
'those of every other country ; the admirable subdivision of mental
}abour whicji is visible in all of them. So much has been said m

GYMNASIA. 391
this subject, in my remarks on the universities, that it will not be
repeated here. Our country is so defective in this respect, so satis
fied are we to continue in the same beaten track, in which our fore
fathers walked, that I cannot avoid alluding to some of the other
defects which exist in the grammar schools of our country. Most
of these institutions, particularly in the northern states, have but one
instructer, whose province it is to educate young men for the col
leges and universities. The grammatical instruction in Latin and
Greek, as far as they are acquainted with it, in geography and
mathams^ics, in one word, in every thing that is required for ad'
mission into our literary institutions, is taught by them. In each
of the gymnasia of Germany, however, there are from eight to
twelve instructers, to each of whom a different department is as
signed. Here are usually from two to three instructers in Greek,
and as many in Latin. One devotes his time almost exclusively to
the grammatical construction of the language, one or more to
the literature. As each has hjs particular province, and that of
limited extent, he arrives at an excellence in his own department,
which is rarely seen in other schools. Some of the instructors-
have a reputation for classical literature, which extends throughout
Germany. The names of Thiersch, Crusius, Bornemann, and
others, are universally known here, by the editions and translations
of the classics which they have published, and the fame of the for
mer many years since reached our shores. It is no very unfre
quent thing for men thus distinguished, to receive invitations to the
vacant chairs of the universities, and which they do not always
accept, as they find the situations they fill so desirable. They
view this as an employment for life, one which is so much respect--
ed, in which they act so well their parts, that they are perfectly
satisfied. With us, on the other hand, most of our instructers are'
young lads, green from a college, where to say the most, they have
never acquired a very thorough knowledge of classical, or of any
other literature. They view these schools as mere resting places
from the fatigue which always attends a young man in indigent^
circumstances, jvhile acquiring an education. The two or three
years passed at'such schools, forma mere episode to all that is de- '
sirable in their existence. The great object before them is theif
future profession. This is the all-engrossing thought, and whether

393 GYMNASIA.
they acquire an exegetical view of the works which are studied
under their direction, and still more, whether their pupils pursue
the classics in this manner, is rarely a subject of inquiry. As soon
as they have by rigid economy, saved a sufficient sum to enable
them to support themselves two or three years in studying a pro
fession, they leave these schools, to be guided by some other indi
vidual, who has just terminated his collegiate course. In this
manner, our youths are handed over to the guidance of one and
another, often not much older than themselves, altogether destitute
of that experience, so necessary to render the path of knowledge
easy and delightful.*
I am aware that the northern states of Germany haVe been three
centuries in bringing their schools and universities to their present
degree of excellence, and that I shall be answered with the proverb,
that Rome was not built in a day,' a proverb which has done more
injury to our country by depressing a noble enthusiasm, and by
crushing rising effort, than all the good which was ever derived from
the adages of our sages. Had it been applied to the enterprize of
our merchants and farmers, where would have been the thousands,
of vessels, whose sails are now whitening every ocean and river;
where the countless towns and villages that now extend from the
Atlantic to the Mississippi ; where that enterprise, which putting
forth all its powers, has almost rendered our country the hive of
the world ? Rome, it is true, was not built in a day ; but a country
whose resources and power will soon be greater than Rome was
in the days of Augustus, has risen into existence, which now bears
no more proportion to what she was a century ago, than the oak
to the acorn from which it sprung. Shall we not then do some
thing for the mind ? Shall all' our efforts be confined to canals, to ¦
wheat, cotton, and tobacco, and the intellectual character of our
* The remarks I have made on the subject of education, were written in
Germany in the years 1825 and '26. Whenever they refer to our country
they allude to the state of education in the United States as it existed in
1823, when I went to Europe. It gives me no little pleasure to discover on
my return to my native country, after an absence of four years, that so much
has been done to improve the means of education. Messrs. Coggswell and
Bancroft, in introducing the Gymnasium into the United States, have con-
fBrrod a blessing on their native land, which should be gratefully remembered
by every one, who rejoices in its prosperity.-^

OYMNASIA, SSPS
country not be elevated ? If we will manifest the same energy in
providing the materiel of literature, that we have exhibited in
physical improvement, the time will not be far distant, when we
shall be as much respected by the na i-.m: of Europe for our litera
ture, as we now are for that enterprising spirit, which forms so
striking a feature of our character.

51

394

LETTER XXIII.

Leipzig,  1826.
I SENT you, some time since, an account of the churches of
Prussia. I will now, in compliance with your request, give you
a sketch of the present state of religion in the north of Germany,
confining my remarks, however, to the Protestant churches ; as I
am not sufficiently acquainted with the Rhine provinces, Silesia,
and Prussian Poland, where the Catholics principaUy reside, to
answer your inquiries respecting them in a satisfactory manner.
It will not be in my power to draw as full a picture as you 'will
anticipate, for various reasons. There are no statistics which throw
any light upon this subject. The Germans, also, have no common
ground of belief, there being almost as many different creeds, as
there are professors of theology. When inquiring of indiriduals
belonging to each of the two great theological parties, you are also
embarassed by often receiving directly opposite opinions on the
present state of rationalism and supernaturalism. What is white at
Halle or Gottingen, for example,is as black as Tartarusat Berlin, and
Tubingen, and vice versa. Again, as to matters of mere fact and
calculation, particularly in relation to religious statistics, the
Germans know little or nothing. I have never found a professor,
or clergyman, or student, who could tell me what proportion the
orthodox party bore to their opponents. I have put this question
to at least fifty of them, and the invariable answer was ; it is impos-
sjible to ascertain. Another serious obstacle has been my feeble
health, which for many months, has prevented me from examining
this subject as minutely as was my intention. It will be necessary
for me to introduce this subject, by alluding to some of those
causes which have covered northern Germany with a skepticism

SPENER. 395
more general, than was ever visible in any other Protestant country.
This subject is so extensive, that it would require a volume,
instead of a letter, to do it justice.
The enthusiasm which was awakened by the Reformation, was
felt over all the north of Germany, and before the death of Luther,
several millions had renounced their belief in the Roman Catholic
religion. During his life, he was able to control the church, by
that influence which illustrious men, who stamp their characters on
the age in which they live, always exert on inferior minds. The
books which contained the great principles of Luther's creed,
were regarded as standards of appeal long after his death, and at
the close of the sixteenth century, theoretical Lutheranism was a
necessary qualification for admission to the desk. In the early part
of the seventeenth, the thirty years' war commenced, which con
tinued until nearly the middle of that century. The desolation
which fiowed from the efforts of the Austrians to annihilate Pro
testantism, united most of the northern Germans in their hatred of
papacy, but did Uttle to elevate their religious character. A mere
theoretical belief in the doctrines of the Lutheran church, succeeded
that ardent piety which distinguished the Reformers, and many of
their followers ; and in the year 1650, the north of Germany was
as deficient in reUgious effort, as it had been distinguished for it a
century before-.
The corrupting tendency of war is perhaps not greater, than the
deleterious influence that it exerts on the literature of a country
which is the scene of its ravages. This was most distinctly visible
in the universities of the north of Germany, during this period.
.The spirit which Melanchthon had roused among the youth in the
pursuit of Greek literature, and the almost equal excitement pro
duced by Luther among the theologians, on the subject of exegesis,
had principaUy ceased. An electoral command procured by the
influence of Spener, was necessary, to introduce exegetical
lectures at the university of Leipzig. This writer says, that he
knew theologians who had been six years at a university, who had
not heard one exegetical course. The dogmatical theology of this
period was confined to their approved books of faith, and the study
of ecclesiastical history had entirely ceased, the disputes between
tie Calvinists and Lutherans occupying fill their thoughts. Spener,

396 SPENER.
in his pits desideriis states, that in the schools Latin was taught,
Greek rarely, and Hebrew never ; that in the universities, philology
was almost unknown, and that many of the theologians did not
understand the New Testament in Greek. Muller, Gerhard, and
others, give a similar account of the state of theology at that time.
In such a period of speculative theology, Spener appeared, and
by his unremitted efforts and ardent piety, was the means of exert
ing a greater influence over Germany, than any man who had
appeared in the church since the days of Luther. His parents,
who were very religious, sent him to the university of Strasburg
where he attended the lectures of Sebastian Smith and Danhauer;
and he afterwards proceeded to Basle, to study Hebrew with the
celebrated Buxtorf. In 1666, he was invited to Frankfort, where,
soon after his arrival, he established his Erbauungsstundertf or
hours for religious edification. Here his parishioners assembled
to hear his addresses, and for mutual examination on thwsubject
of religion. These, as well as his catechetical lectures, excited
not a little opposition throughout Germany. Spener defended
¦^^ himself by appealing to the faith of the Lutheran church. The
~~ university of Kiel examined this subject, and declared itself in
favour of these assemblies, as being in the highest degree useful in
i. promoting religion. In 1675, he published his work pia desideria,
in which he states, that " the magistracy are to some extent desti
tute of a knowledge of Christianity — true piety has often been
oppressed — a total reformation of the clergy is necessary — one can
hardly become a preacher with a good conscience — many preachers
lead dissipated iives," &c. «fcc. This work produced a great ser^
sation throughout Germany : it was very extensively attacked, and
he was loaded with approbrious names. Several of the universi
ties, however, highly approved of it, and sent him letters, thank
ing and praising him for the course he had pursued. Dielefeld
and otliers attacked him, calling, him an Antilutheran and a Pietist,
and accused him of holding the opinion that theological studies
were of no avail without regeneration. To these charges Spener
replied in his AUgemeine Gottesgelahrtheit, which was perused
with great interest.
In 1826, he was appointed court preacher at Dresden. Within
a few Weeks after his arrival, an unusual interest was felt in that

SPENER. 397
city on the subject of reUgion. , Saxony, at this time, was the seat
of the Orthodox party ; a name assumed by those who opposed
the Pietists, of whom Spener was regarded as the leader. Here
he directed the catechetical lectures, which had previously been
entrusted to subordinate agents. This step exposed him not a
little to the ridicule of his opponents. In this manner he laboured
five years, when he received an invitation to the Nicholas church
of Berlin, which he accepted, as the elector of Saxony was not a
Uttle offended with him on account of his earnest manner of
preaching. Before leaving Dresden, however, he addressed a
letter to this prince, admonishing him of the impropriety of his
conduct, (for the elector had declared that he would not enter his
church again,) and justifying himself for the course he had pur
sued. His efforts in Saxony were crowned with success, catechetical
lectures being introduced throughout the electorate, and exegetical
lectures also in the university. Not a small number also of the
clergy and laity also embraced his opinions. In Berlin, (where
he continued until his death in 1705,) he was very instrumental in
procuring the appointment of Breishaupt and Franke, to the
professors' chairs of the university of Halle, which were founded
in 1694. The exertions he had made to persuade Frederick II.
elector of Brandenburg, afterwards Frederick I. king of Prussia,)
to found that rival university, the appointment of such distinguished
Pietists as Franke and Breishaupt, as well as the great unpopu
larity of Spener, induced the professors of Wittenberg to publish
a work against him, in which they accused him of holding two
hundred and sixty-four heretical opinions. Among these were
specified, that he taught that a holy Ufe was necessary, in order
to be a Christian ; that abstaining from the society of the world,
was a means of attaining internal peace ; that he could learn
much that was good from the Quakers, Anabaptists, and Papists;
and that all who were baptised were not real Christians. After
his death, it became a question in some of the universities, whether
one could say with propriety, beatus Spener. Professor Fecht,
of Rostock, , pubUshed a pamphlet, de beatitudine mortuorum in
Domino; and, in thirty-four paragraphs, he inquired, whether
this could be said of Spener, and he decided " quod non." Not
withstanding these decisions and accusations, the hours of ediflca-»

398 FRANKE.
tion and catechetical lectures continued to be held, not only in
Berlin, but in very many of the cities and villages of Germany,
and great numbers embraced his opinions.
Some time before his death, Germany began to be divided into
two great parties, the Pietists and the Orthodox. As early as
1686, while Spener was residing at Dresden, some of the magistri
theologicB, among whom were Anton, Schade, Arnold, and the
subsequently celebrated Franke, united in publicly reading the
Bible in the churches of Leipzig. Soon after this, the latter
visited Spener, and on his return to the university, he established
a Collegium biblicum for the students. This raised so much
opposition, as to draw the attention of the court of Dresden. The
affair was examined, when the university decided that nothing
prejudicial had occurred. Franke, however, was forbidden to
hold these collegia, although Schade was permitted to continue
them. His audience, which consisted of almost one hundred
students, was soon increased by great numbers of the citizens, who
resorted to them for religious instruction. Schade, fearing that
some disorder might arise from this great accession of auditors,
was induced to exclude the latter. The citizens, not being able to
resort to them any longer, established similar unions for them
selves, from which great disturbances arose. This gave the
Orthodox ground for new opposition. The universities of Leipzig
and Wittenberg sent a united petition to the elector, requesting
him to suppress Pietism, which was soon done. The Pietists
were compelled to give up their claims to the stipends they had
previously enjoyed ; and it was enacted, that whoever held the
Erbauungsstunden, should hold no office, and testimonials of the
good conduct of such, during their residence at the university,
were denied to them. One of the young theologians^ who had
been for a time excluded from the desk, on account of his Pietism,
was permitted to enter it again, with the hope that he would
reform. He then preached from the 8th of Romans, " maintaining
that a penitent heart would perceive in itself a heavenly light, by
which it would acknowledge Jesus Christ as its highest good in
heaven and on earth." In consequence of this assertion, he was
once more forbidden to enter the church.
The press became very active in this controversy. Benedict

FRANKE.
Carpzov, in one of his pamphlets, calls Spener "procellam eccle-
sice, tempestatem pads, turbonem religionis." At Erfurt, the
elector forbade all persons officiating at those religious conferences
under a fine of one hundred guldens ; and in many other cities
great opposition was excited against .them. In . Hamburg, three
clergymen, Hordius, Winkleman, and Winkler, had embraced the
sentiments of Spener. They were attacked by John Felleyer, in
a pamphlet entitled " A Warning for the City of Hamburg, com
posed in haste, but grounded on the word of God." Hordius had
distributed among his people a work of Poinet, entitled " the
Wisdom of the Just." This Meyer attacked, professing to find
in it seven heresies ; among which were the Socinian, Armenian,
Quakerian, &c. In this work our Lord's prayer was recommended
as a useful supplication for children ; but he affirmed, that they
must be taught to praise God with the heart, that the heart must
be submissive to him, and that his grace must nourish our souls,
must free us from transgressions, and keep us from sinning against
him in future. Meyer declared in his work, " that it was the
greatest degradation of the word of God, yea even a denial of it,
to make conditions in the use of it." He also declared, that he
felt in conscience bound to preach against Hordius, as an arrant
deceiver and enthusiast. By his sermon, the inhabitants were so
excited against the former, that he was compelled to leave Ham
burg, to escape from personal violence. A similar hostility to the
Pietists was visible in many of the other cities of Germany. Still,
notwithstanding these persecutions, they gradually increased in
numbers and influence.
Halle was, however, the principal seat of Pietism, where Franke,
Anton, and Breithaupt, by their learning and labours, extended
their influence throughout the north of Germany. They had all
become personally acquainted with Spener, had attended his
Erbauungsstunden, and embraced his sentiments. Franke, before
he was called to that university, was invited to one of the churches
of Erfurt, where he established simUar meetings. The clergy of
that city immediately applied to the government to remove him,
and he was ordered to leave the town in two days. A few hours
after this, he received an invitation from Spener to visit BerUn. A
short time after his arrival, he was also chosen a professor of the

400 FRANKE.
new university of Halle. Exegetical lectures were introduced
soon after its foundation, and students resorted to it from every
part of Germany. Although Halle is but a few hours ride from
the universities of Wittenberg and Leipzig, this institution soon
became a powerful rival of both of them. During the first thirty
years of its existence, more than six thousand theological students
were admitted. Educated as they were, in the very heart of
Pietism, many embraced these sentiments, and they were thus
extended through Prussia and other parts of Germany. Franke,
who was professor of exegesis and hermeneutics, pubUshed his
manuductio ad lectionem scriptures sacrce and his observation's
bibliccB, in which he pointed out some of the errors of Luther's
translation. This roused the opposition of the Orthodox. Meyer
published a work against him, entitled, " the works of A. H.
Franke, a temptation of Satan." But in spite of this and similar
attacks, his exegetical views were widely received and defended.
In the university he excited new ardour for the study of exegesis,
and established a collegium orientate, for those students who had
already made considerable progress in the languages of the East
The Erbauungsstunden, and collegia biblica, were introduced by
these professors in the university, who met regularly, to pray for
the blessing of Heaven upon their exertions. The efforts of
Franke and his coadjutors, to promote the cause of religion, were
so unremitted, that long after his death, HaUe continued to be the
seat of Pietism.
In all reformations, weak minds are apt to exhibit more'feeUng,
and often an enthusiasm which borders on insanity. The crafty
and the wicked, gladly avail themselves of such excitements, and
to acquire distinction, they often endeavour to " ride the whirl
wind, and direct the storm." Germany during this period was
the theatre of more enthusiasm, than any country of Europe had
previously witnessed for more than a century. Sects arose in
many of the cities, and their leaders, not unfrequently, acted more
like the candidates for a lunatic asylum, than the spiritual guides
of the people. Among these, a sect styled " Inspiranten," ap
peared in many of the towns, which professed to be inspired,
whose leader, John Frederick Rock, a shoemaker, was enabled by
the force of his mind, and by his power of persuasion, to enrol

RONSDORFIAN SECT. 401
many of the ignorant among his followers. The Butlerian and
Evischen sects, formed by Ursula Maria Butler, and her daughter
Eva. They held, that if the' heart was right with God, the
outward conduct of an individual was a subject of indifference to
his eyes. Accordingly, they indulged in the grossest Ucentious-
ness, endeavouring to establish a Mahomet's paradise upon earth.
The mother was prosecuted, and condemned to death, and exe
cuted in 1705.
The most extravagant of aH these sects was the Ronsdorfian,
so called from the town of Ronsdorf, where it originated ; and the
founder of which was Elias EUer, a ribbon weaver of that town.
He declared that the new kingdom of Christ was near, and that
the new Jerusalem would be established at Ronsdorf. He acquired
many followers, particularly among the manufacturers, and was
chosen burgermeister of that city. As his popidarity increased,
he caused two thrones for himself and his wife to be erected in
one of the churches ; announced himself the stadtholder of Christ ;
commanded those, who wished that their supplications should be
heard, to offer them in his name ; declared that his children would
inherit the kingdom of God ; and, when he appeared in the street,
had persons preceding him, who cried, " Hosannah to hira who
comes in the name of God." One of the clergy preached against
him, pronouncing him to be a deceiver. This so roused his
indignation, that he excited the populace, who stormed and plun
dered the house of the clergyman, and drove hirrtself aiid his
family out of the town. Eller died in 1750, before any prosecution
was brought against him.* '
The Pietists continued to exert a great influence in Germany,
so late as the middle of the last century. From that time, to
1813, religion continually lost, and scepticism as regularly gained
* For this account of the origin and progress of Pietism,- as well as of the
fanatical sects, I am indebted to notes taken at one of the lectures which I
attended, while residing at the university of Berlin. For the remaining
information relating to the causes which produced this overthrow of religion
in Germany, as well as the views given of the present state of the opinions in
this country, I am alone responsible. The facts which are stated, wera
derived by me principally from conversations with a great number of the
professors, and other persons belonging to the two great Protestant^sects
whiQh_|now exist in Germany ; the Rationalists, and the Supernaturalists.
52

402 INFLUENCE OF FREDERICK THE GREAT.
ground, until a belief in revelation ceased to exist among mostjof
the literati, the clergy, and the intelligent laity. In no country,
except France, that ever received the name of Christian, has
unbelief exerted a more extended influence : in no one has it
reigned with a more absolute sway. Several causes, peculiar to
Germany, united in bringing about this great revolution in religion.
These will now be specified as succinctly as possible.
One of the most powerful was the influence of Frederick the
Great. The enthusiastic admiration which that monarch felt for
French literature, was spread by his example not only through
Prussia, but through all the north of Germany. The brilliant ter
mination of the Silesian war, and the subsequent victories gained over
the French, the Russians and the Austrians, raised him to the rank
of the first soldier of the age. Though the inhabitants of that part of
Germany,west of Prussia, gained nothing from his conquest, they
derived not a Uttle satisfaction from the lustre he shed on the
German name. Whatever he did was observed, whatever he said
was repeated, with an interest and ardour almost bordering upon
idolatry. He became in the eyes of the Germans the sun of the
northern system, and the influence of the electors and grand
dukes of the north was invisible in the effulgence of his fame.
Frederick, who was as desirous of literary as of military renown,
re-modelled the Royal Academy of Berlin. To this institution he
invited distinguished men from various countries of Europe, among
whom were not a small number of Frenchmen, many of whom, to
say the least, were distinguished for their disbelief m revelation.
Scepticism, at this period, was almost universal in France ; and of
a number of the most celebrated sceptics, Frederick became the
literary friend and correspondent. He invited Voltaire and others
to BerUn, where the former was regarded with an admiration
scarcely surpassed by that of his countrymen. The court, the
capital, and not a small part of the nation, imitated the monarch
in his unbelief; and through his influence the works of the French
philosophers soon became the intellectual and religious guides of
not a small proportion of the German literati. To embrace scep
ticism openly, and to attack revelation, became a matter of course ;
and all those who wished to gain the reputation of soaring above
the prejudices of education, and of living in inteUectual liberty,

rant's PHILOSOPHY. 403
\mitated the monarch and the philosopher. The young, dazzled
by the reputation of their sovereign, received him as a guide in
theology as well as in literature ; until among this class, unbelief
became almost universal.
English Uterature at this time began to attract the attention o^
the learned men of Germany. The works of the English philoso
phers who flourished in the latter part of the sixteenth, and the
beginning and middle of the seventeenth century, were translated
and very extensively perused. Large numbers embraced their
sentiments, both among the clergy and laity. The philosophical
works of Hume appeared soon after their publication, in a Ger
man translation, and excited as much interest here as in England.
They were the means of first turning the attention of the immortal
Kant, as the Germans call him, to the study of philosophy. This
celebrated man, was a professor in the university of Konigsberg,
where he acquired a reputation superior to that of any individual
that has appeared in Germany since the time of Luther. Although
he was never twenty miles distant from his native city, he was
able by the force of his intellect and his logical acumen, to effect
one of the greatest revolutions of the human mind, within the
history of man. In early life he had distinguished himself as a
mathematician. When Hume's philosophy first appeared in Ger
many, he studied the English language, that he might read that
writer in the original. As early as 1781, he published his cele
brated work, entitled, the "Critic of Pure Reason." For the first six
years after its appearance, it excited little interest ; and the pub
lisher was about destroying the work, when an unexpected demand
for it exhausted the edition, and several others, almost as rapidly
as they could be struck off. He was soon regarded as the great
master of philosophy in this country. Lectures were delivered on
his system in many of the universities ; and philosophers resorted
to Konigsberg from all parts of Germany, to see this wonder of
the age. Many of the German princes sent the professors of their
universities to converse with one whom the Germans almost idol
ized. Some of the clergy expressed a wish to Kant, that he would
present to the world his sentiments on religion, which he had
barely alluded to in his philosophy. He accordingly published in

404 KANt's PHILOSOPHY.
1792, his " Religion within the limits of mere Reason." Tbis was
like fire applied to gunpowder. It shook the faith of a consider
able proportion of the clergy, who openly embraced his system,
and enrolled themselves under his banner. The novelty of his
sentiments, the force of his logic, and the boldness of his opinions,
delighted the Germans. For many years, the dominion he pos
sessed over the minds of his countrymen, was not surpassed by
the subsequent military supremacy of Napoleon over their terri
tory. Kant thought that his system was much superior to that of
Christ, and he speaks of it as such in his works. From the won
derful success which attended his opinions, he as well as his fol
lowers believed, that his new system of morals would become
universal, and supplant Christianity. After he had enjoyed, how
ever, for many years a dominion almost absolute over the minds
of his countrymen, some of the younger philosophers ventured
to examine his opinions. Among others Schulze, a teacher of
philosophy in Gottingen, exposed the fallacy of his arguments,
and the contradictions between the different parts of his system.
The publication of his strictures on the philosophy of Kant, gave
a great shock to the reputation of the latter, and induced others
to look at him with less admiration. In a few years he was almost
as universally attacked, as he had been previously admired ; and
his influence, which had been almost omnipotent in Germany,
gradually became more and more circumscribed, until eventually
few were ¦willing to acknowledge themselves as his followers. At
the present time his philosophy, like thfe. receding comet, has
ceased to attract the gaze of the nations, or to make them tremble.
Of the twenty-two universities now existing in Germany, there is
but one, that of Tubingen, where the majority of the professors.
are Kantians ; and this may be regarded as the last asylum of this
system, from whence it will not improbably soon be driven. It
is true that there are still several of his disciples found among the
learned men ; for example, Krug in Leipzig, Fries in Jena, Rein-
holdt in Kiel, &c. ; but some or all of these are only partially
Kantians. His reputation however for genius still continues ;
and for acuteness of intellect he is almost universally regarded in
Germany as without a rival during the last twenty centuries. In

fichte's PHILOSOPHY. 405
this respect many even now view him, as having possessed more
acuteness of intellect, than Socrates, Plato, or Aristotle.
During the blaze of Kant's philosophy, another luminary arose,
which attracted the gaze of even the followers of Kant. This was
John Gottlob Fichte, the founder of a system of idealism which
was very extensively received here for eight or ten years. The
fundamental doctrine of Fichte's system, is this : every thing which
exists is the creation of the mind of each individual. During the
time when Fichte flourished, the philosophers of Germany embra
ced their sentiments, regardless of consequences. This remark is
peculiarly applicable to Fichte, who followed hi? system unintimi
dated by any results. Some time before he published his philoso
phy, he had occupied the chair of a professor in Jena. The senti
ments he advanced while there, were regarded with jealousy, from
their supposed dangerous influence over the minds of the students,
and in consequence he was induced to resign his chair. He was
soon invited to Erlangen, and at a subsequent period, he was chosen
professor of Berlin university. In the commencement of his
philosophical career, he embraced the sentiments of Kant, but
afterwards rejected them and formed his system of idealism. This
system, however, continued but for a short period, and before his
death, which took place in 1815, his star had grown pale, and at
the present time he has not a single follower among the philoso
phers of the German universities. As far as I have had an oppor
tunity of ascertaining, it may be said, literally, that his system
Kves only in the memory of his former followers, and in the history
of human opinions.
Before Fichte presented his idealism to the view of his country
men, another philosopher had appeared, who has been able to
maintain his influence until the present time. This was Frederick
Henry Jacobi, a native of Dusseldorf, where he held a petty office
under the government. Several of his philosophical works, which
he published during the latter part of the last century, attracted
the attention of the Germans to such a degree, that the King of
Bavaria appointed him president of the Royal Academy at Munich,
where he resided until his death, about six years since. Here he
pursued his philosophical studies ; and, with the exception of a
short period, ¦with a continually increasing fame. Jacobi rejects

406 PHILOSOPHY OF JACOBI AND SCHELLIN6.
Uie idea of an external revelation, but admits an internal one, viz.
conscience. He acquired many followers, and his system was
extensively received in the universities of Germany.
Jacobi met with a formidable rival in Schelling, who was also a
member of the Royal Academy of Munich, and who is, at the
present time, director of the Academy of Arts in that city. This
scholar has acquired an influence here, superior to that of any
other philosopher since the time of Kant, and he is now almost
universally esteemed the " deepest and sharpest thinker," as the
Germans express it, in their country. He is a follower of Spinoza,
with some modifications of his opinions. He admits no spiritual
God, but maintains a full and extended Pantheism, embracing
animate and inanimate existence. His opponents represent him,
as holding the belief that God exists in every part of being,
ascending from the rudest matter, through crystallization, vegeta
tion, and animation, to mind, which is the noblest part of the Deity.
This Being, according to his system, remains inanimate in matter,
grows in every tree, blows in every flower, and deca3-s with the
extinction of animal life. Jacobi, who had been educated in the
Kantian school, embraced the opinion of the Konigsberg philoso
pher, that the existence of God could not be demonstrated from
the natural world ; but maintained, that it could be from the reve
lation which is given to man, viz. the conscience. He accordingly
attacked the system of Schelling, accusing him of Atheism ; which
charge, I believe, he proved satisfactorily to his own followers,
if not to those of his adversary. To this Schelling repUed with
great severity, and he was able, by the prodigious force of his
reasoning and satire, to gain a complete rictory. He handled
Jacobi with very little mercy, treating him more like a pupil than
a competitor. This work diminished the influence of the latter,
and for some time Schelling was victorious in most of the German
schools. Within the last six years, the system of Jacobi has again
been rapidly gaining ground. The universities of Halle, Jena,
Leipzig, Gottingen, and it may be said with truth, the great ma
jority of those in the North, are Jacobites. ScheUing still main
tains his ground at Berlin, and in southern Germany.*
* An apology may seem necessary, for tliis very superficial view of the
philosophical schools <Sf this country. My very feeble health, during the last

INFLUENCE OF THESE SYSTEMS. 407
The philosophy of Kant acquired great authority over the German
clergy, especially after the publication of his " Religion within the
limits of mere Reason." The systems which succeeded his, have
been adopted, in greater or less degrees, by the philosophers strictly
so called, but have been much less popular among the great ma
jority of theologians. As a knowledge of philosophy is necessary
for admission into the pulpit, all the theological students were un
der the necessity of becoming sufficiently acquainted with it, par
ticularly with that of the schools of Germany, to give a historical
riew of the systems which have appeared since the days of Leib
nitz ; still it forms only a secondary study, one to which they de
vote much less of their time than to exegesis, dogmatics, ecclesias
tical history, &c. The novelty of Kant's philosophy, united with
his briUiant reputation, made his work for a time as popular with
the theologians, as with the literati of Germany. As his succes
sors have enjoyed a much less extended fame, their systems have
been much less read by the clergy, and they have been regarded by
the students, with none of that profound veneration, which was
almost universally awakened by their great predecessor. The phi
losophy of Kant exerted a powerful influence in diffusing scepti-
cisni among the clergy, not a small number of whom embraced
the system of that distinguished man. To make scepticism univer
sal among the theologians, another cause existed, which was equally
powerful ; I allude to the study of biblical criticism and exegesis.
About the middle of the last century, a great impulse was
given to the study of Grecian and Roman literature, through the
unwearied efforts of Ernesti, Heyne, and others, whose repu
tation attracted students in great numbers to the universities where
they resided. Ernesti, who Was a celebrated theologian, as well
as a profound classical scholar, published his Hermeneutics, in
which he appUes the same rules of interpretation to the Bible as
eight months of my residence in Germany, prevented me from examining this
subject, as I had intended. The few facts which are stated, relative to the
great systems which have been received, and have exerted so commanding an
influence on the North, were derived, almost entirely, from conversation. My
koowledge on^this subject is so imperfect, that no allusion would have been
.made to it, 'had not these schools been s* instrumental in destroying the belieif
in Revelation.

408 STUDY OF CRITICISM.
to the ancient classics. He laid down this principle ; that the lan
guage and the History of the time in which the books Were written,^
must be thoroughly understood, before any one can become capable '
of interpreting the Bible, or any profane writer. Semler carried
this principle still farther, maintaining, that the circumstances con
nected with the time and place in which the author spoke or wrote,
must be explained, and the general idea must consequently be re
duced to that which is more definite. Semler was also the first per
son, who suggested the idea, that it is not the number, but the cha
racter of the manuscripts, which gives them weight in discovering
the true reading, not only of the profane, but also of the sacred
writers. This opinion, which is now admitted to be unquestiona-
blcj was at first regarded by many of his countrymen as in the
highest degree heretical. It was, however, in a short time almost
universally adopted. Michaelis extended the principle of Ernesti
and Semler still further, both in theory and practice. According
to him, it is not only necessary to understand the situation and cir
cumstances of the writer and people at the time and place in which
the books were written, and the languuge and history of the time,
but every thing connected with their moral and physical character ;
as well as every thing relating to those nations with whom they
associated, just so far as they received their opinio?!^ or customs
from them, or in other words, as their character uvs altered by
such an intercourse. These maxims, for they have been so gene
rally adopted since as to merit that appellation, excited not a little
opposition. When Michaelis published his compendium of dog
matics, it appeared to the divines and government of Denmark, to
be so teeming with heresy, that by the order, I believe, of the lat
ter, it was publicly burnt by the common executioner of Copenha
gen. Many years afterwards, he received knighthood from the
king of Sweden for his defence of orthodoxy ; so far had many of
his contemporaries gone beyond him.
The talent and learning of these great men bore down aU oppo
sition. The crowds of students who attended their lectures, soon
adopted their opinions, aud their maxims became in a short time
those of the great majority of the German divines. The subject
of Higher Criticism soon awakened great interest among their
pupils, and a new science was tiius introduced, or rather created

STUDY OP CRITICISM. 409
in this country, which till then had been comparatively unknown.
An army of writers, led on by Eichhorn, soon made their appear
ance, who pursued their investigations with an ardour and extent
of research, which awakened a general enthusiasm. Lectures on
hermeneutics, exegesis, criticism, and oriental Uterature, so far as
it is connected with the study of the Bible, were delivered in every
university. By becoming acquainted with the age, and with the
moral and physical situation of the writers whose works they
were perusing, and of the people for whom they were written, they
soon found, as they thought, that many of the opinions entertained
by Luther and his contemporaries, and since his day descending
from generation to generation, could not be supported by exe
getical argument. The pioneers of this science, removed what
they considered the barriers of prejudice, and inherited theology.
They were followed by others boldefr in their attacks, who advanced
stin nearer what they considered the citadel of prejudice ; while
others still more daring, eventually carried it by storm. During
this theological contest, the genuineness and authenticity of the
Old Testament was first attacked, and outwork after outwork was
gained, until all belief in it as a revelation, was almost literally ex
ploded from Germany. The epistles of the New Testament were
afterwards assailed with the same weapons. The inspiration of one
writer after another ceased to be believed, until by an almost
equally large proportion of the theologians, they were also viewed
as unworthy of regard, except so far as they contain a beautiful
system of morality, and so far as they are historically interesting
from their instrumentality in spreading Christianity. At a subse
quent period, the gospels were attacked in a similar manner. The
character of Christ was soon generally believed by the clergy, to
have no more claims to our respect than those of Plato and Aris
totle, unless from the greater purity of his exampleandof his code
of morals, and from his exhibition of powers of intellect which
most of them would have probably admitted to be much superior
to those of the Greek philosophers.
Unfortunately for the cause of Orthodoxy, there were very few
men of learning among its adherents, who were able to meet their
opponents in the field. Of those who advanced to its defence,
most were put entirely hors de combat. The immense advantages
53

410 STUDY OF CRITICISM.
which the researches of their opponents gave them, enabled them
often to defeat their antagonists at the first onset. They were
somewhat like the soldiers of civilized nations contending with sava
ges : they were armed with weapons, the power and the uses
of which were not understood until the conflict had commenced.
They were thus enabled to take their own position, and advance
to the attack at pleasure. Most of those, who pursued the study
of Sacred Criticism and Hermeneutics with such ardour, were
already unbelievers when they commenced their investigations.
To soar above prejudice real or imaginary, and thus elevate one's
self above other men, is a flight, the boldness of which is dazzling
to the mind. This is peculiarly the case when one can raise his
contemporaries with him above the mists of inherited faith, and
thus be secure of having his name enrolled among the number of
those mighty men, who have stamped their characters on the
ages in which they flourished.
Lest some of my readers, from the remarks which have been
here made, should imbibe a prejudice against the study of Her
meneutics and exegesis, it will be proper to dwell a moment longer
on this subject. The general infidelity which pervaded Germany,
from the time of Frederick the Great, prepared the way for the
Exegets to arrive at the conclusion which their works proclaim. It
should not only be remembered that most of them were sceptics
when they commenced their investigation, but that the whole tide of
public opinion was bearing onwards with great force towards infi
delity, even those who still retained an inherited belief in Revela
tion. The influence of this almost universal scepticism was not
surpassed by that of the French philosophers during the middle
and latter part of the eighteenth century. If it is asked, why did
not infidelity gain a similar victory in England ; the reply is, that
the clergy of Great Britain have always been on the side of Reve
lation, while those of Germany with very few exceptions were its
most violent opponents. Whenever a people discover that the
clergy are sceptics they will of course adopt similar opinions.
This was the most powerful cause of the overthrow of the Chris
tian religion among the people of Germany. It is true that a small
number of the divines continued firm in their belief; but the num
ber was very limited, and until the year 1808, it was continually

SCEPTICISM OF THE CLERGY. 411
decreasing, when they were reduced to a mere handful. The
Neologists not only greatly outnumbered their opponents ; they
were vastly superior to them in learning. Their new mode of
warfare overcame every obstacle. The influence of learning is
almost irresistible in an intellectual country ; and there is reason
to fear that it will be equally so in our own, whenever it is arrayed
against Truth, unless those, whose duty it is to defend it, become
thoroughly prepared for combat. If we would retain those inval
uable blessings, which flow from the general belief in Revelation
which exists in the United States, let us place our Theological schools
on such a foundation, that the students and professors shall possess
every means of defending Truth which this world affords. If our
libraries are augmented thirty fold ; if the number of professorships is
greatly increased, so that the greatest advantages may flow from
an intellectual subdivision of labour ; if we are faithful to our
Master, who has left us the rich legacy of his precepts and exam-
ble ; we need have no fear of attack, but relying on guidance from
above, we may advance to any conflict, with the surest prospect of
success. If this is not done, there is reason to fear that Neologism
may hereafter prevail among us, as it now does in Germany.
The causes which I have mentioned were all-powerful in spread
ing scepticism among the intelligent clergy, the laity, and literati
-of Germany. The Pietists had almost ceased to exist ; or at least
they had gone into such retirement, that their sentiments were
unknown out of their parishes, or immediate circles. So universal
was this disbelief, that there were not in the year 1808, as one of
the most distinguished Orthodox professors informed me, five
clergymen in Germany, who dared to come forth and declare
themselves to the world, as belonging to the Orthodox party. Dr.
Janike, at that time the only clergyman in Berlin and almost the
only one in that part of Prussia who held these sentiments, pub
lished a work in which he predicted, that in twenty years there
would be no reUgious worship observed in that metropolis.
The unbelief of the Uterati and distinguished laity spread almost
universally through the cities. As there is no common ground
upon which they could meet the peasantry, scepticism was not so
general among the great mass of the people. It is true that most
of the clergy were unbeUevers; still they rarely advanced senti-

412 eREEDS.
ments in their pidpits, contrary to those contained in their books
of faith. The rulers cff the German states, as well as most of the
clergy, regarded the pulpit as one of the most powerful means
of promoting that good order so indispensable to the stability of
government. The sermons of the latter were moral essays, which
if they did not increase the .number of believers in the religion of
Christ, had an auspicious influence in restraining, vice. The wars
with France produced, however, an almost equally noxious effect
upon a Jarge part of the peasantry. Germany was for years the
great battle ground of Europe, and the hostile armies were con
tinually marching through its different states, exposing the inhabi
tants to every degree of suffering, and to all the temptations and
¦vices which war brings in its train. The influence of the French
soldiery over the lower classes of females, was as e^rident as that
of the officers over the middle and higher classes. The morality
of Germany lost ground continually ; and during the many years
of its subjugation, a most unhappy change became every where
¦visible. The clergy and laity of Germany are divided into two great
religious parties ; the Rationalists, and the Supernaturalists. The
former were called some forty years since Naturalists, or those
who refused to admit the miracles related in the Old and New
Testament. The work of Kant, " Religion within the bounds of
pure reason," and the fear that this word might be considered as
conveying an idea approximating too near to that of materialism,
induced them to drop the name of Naturalists, and to substitute
that of Rationalists. The original line of distinction was a beUef
in miracles ; the one class rejecting them entirely, the other admit
ting at least those related to have been performed by our Saviour.
This line of demarcation has since been changed. The word Or
thodox has been extensively adopted by the Supernaturalists,
though they are still sometimes interchanged. To belong to the
Orthodox party at the present time, the great points of Lutheran
belief must be admitted ; particularly the Trinity, the miracles of
Christ, regeneration, the resurrection, future rewards and punish
ments, &c. The Rationalists universally reject the divinity of
our Saviour, and regeneration ; though some of them will admit
other points of the Orthodox creed, standing as it were on both

DECREASE OF SCEPTICISM. 413
sides of the line of separation. These are the two great classes ;
although from the Pantheist, and Rationalist, or Neologist (for the
last two words are synonymous,) to the most rigid SupernaturaUst,
almost every creed which has ever existed is beUeved by some of the
clergy. To enable you to understand the account of the present
state of Orthodoxy, you will observe, that I shall make use of
the words Rationalist, Neologist, and Naturalist, as synonymous.
The terms SupernaturaUst and Orthodox convey also the same
idea. Withiii the last thirteen years. Orthodoxy has been gaining
ground rapidly. This change has been produced by a number of
causes arising out of the peculiar situatioh of Germany, imme
diately before and since the peace of Paris. The most prominent
were the following.
First. Scepticism, which had been gaining new and new victo
ries for nearly half a century, had now reached its ultimatum.
When the human mind in its love of theorizing has arrived at such
an extreme, that it can go no farther without making shipwreck
of reason, there is of necessity a re-action. This remark w^as pecu
liarly applicable to many of the philosophers and theologians. A
philosopher with his eyes closed, may persuade himself with the
followers of Fichte, that every thing which he had previously seen
or felt, was the creation of his own mind ; but the great majority
of those who embrace such a system, will find their individual
experience a complete refutation of it, a short time after its novelty
has ceased to intoxicate them. The literati and students may, by
the force of Schelling's mind, be convinced that there is no objec
tive God, or one who is separate from the world and themselves ;
but this belief, after they have examined and reflected upon the
wonderful adaptation of means to ends, which every day presents
to an observing eye, will fade from the minds of those who have
no favourite systems to support. Though a nation like the Ger
mans may apply the same rules of interpretation to the Bible, as
to Homer or Plato, they will eventually refuse to receive such, as
would introduce chaos into all ancient Uterature, and completely
destroy the usus loquendi oi the writer and his contempora
ries, By the interpretation of many of the theologians, the Bi-

414 DECREASE OF SCEPTICISM.
ble was frittered away, until at length it meant every thing* or
nothing. Secondly. The calamities brought upon the nation by their
subjection to the French, and by the numerous wars which preceded
and succeeded their humiliation, were so great, that neither reason
nor philosophy afforded them the consolation which they desired.
The hand of heaven was heavy upon them, and to Heaven many
of the afflicted looked eventually for relief. In their struggle for
liberty, they supplicated the Almighty for his blessing on their
exertions. The success which attended their efforts, led not a
small number to believe that God had heard and answered their
prayers ; and that by his aid, they had been enabled to work out
their own deliverance. This belief soon after the peace of 1815,
was very general in Prussia, where the French- yoke had been
grievous indeed. The effect of their subjugation, and their sub
sequent freedom from foreign oppression, is said to have had' no
small infiuence in checking the tide of scepticism in that kingdom,
and to a more limited extent in all the northern states of Ger
many. Thirdly. The patronage which the king of- Prussia and some of
the other monarchs have afforded to Orthodoxy, has beenthe prin
cipal cause of this change. In some of my previous letters, I have
alluded particularly to the fears of the German monarchs lest the
desire of freedom should finally become so general, as to threaten
the stability of their thrones. This seems to have been felt by
Frederick William, much more sensibly than by any other sove
reign. His withholding the constitution he had promised to his
people, and the destruction of the secret societies in the universi
ties, together with the punishment of the students, were not in the
view of the Prussian government adequate means to secure the
body politic. The disease was too deeply fixed to be removed by
such slight remedies. In examining this disorder, Frederick and
his ministers eventually discovered a medicine, which is regarded
by the Germans as one of the most extraordinary ever applied to
* Professor Stuart in his Letters to Mr. Channing, has given a number
of instances of this kind. Were it necessary, several equally extravagant
might here be added, which I heard while attending the lectures of some of
the Neologistic professors of Germany.

DECREASE OF SCEPTICISM. 416
a political malady. This was nothing more nor less, than a gradual
eradication of latitudinarianism, and an artificial introduction of
Orthodoxy. They now embraced the opinion, that the systems of
philosophy and theology, which had so long existed in the uniyer-
sities, were fitted to make disloyal subjects. The king thought,
that if they used such latitude when speaking of the spiritual king
dom of Christ, the time might not be far distant when they would
exhibit, what he considered an equal want of reverence, in critici
sing his own character and conduct. As this scepticism was to be
eradicated, it was necessary to select some reUgious system, which
would become more instrumental in supporting the rights of royalty.
He was induced to select Orthodoxy, and thus to avow himself a
SupernaturaUst, from an opinion which the Orthodox universally hold
In this country ; that resistance to a legitimate monarch is a great
sin in the eye of God. I was not aware until after my arrival in
Germany, that any Protestant sect existed, that still held this doc
trine as a part of their creed. During my residence here, I have
conversed with many of the Orthodox laity, students, divines, and
professors, and I have never met with one, and after repeated
inquiries have never heard of one, who did not make it an article
of his faith. They have not only contended with me that we were
unjustifiable in our resistance to England, but they carry this prin
ciple so far, as to condemn the Greeks for their revolt from the
Turks. When the success of our revolutionary struggle and the
wonderful manner in which heaven has blessed us since our inde
pendence, have been adduced by me as a strong ground for believ
ing, that God did not regard it as an unpardonable sin; they
universaUy replied that our cup of iniquity was not yet full, and
that a heavy punishment was in store for us.* Such an opinion is
* The king of Prussia, when he consented that his physician and two of
the court preachers should call upon the nation to contribute to- the relief of
the suffering Greeks, found himself placed in a dilemma. By sending money
•to the Greek government, he openly admitted that cases might occur, when
resistance was justifiable. To avoid this difficulty, the Prussians were invited
to contribute to all the naked, wounded, and starving sufferers of that unhappy
nation. I have not the Proclamation by me, and cannot quote the words. The-
phraseology of it, however, was so peculiar, and it was so often a topic of
conversation, that I am certain that the precise idea, if not the language ofT
the address, is here given.

416 DECREASE OF SCEPTICISM.
exceedingly agreeable to Frederick William. This is the very
principle of the Holy Alliance, of which he is one of the most
active members. As the rationalists do not only disbelieve this,
but think that we are now receiving our reward for our manly re
sistance to oppression, the king has within a few years, felt a strong
disgust for neologism, and no one who publicly avows these senti
ments, anticipates the sunny favours of royalty. Though the electors
and grand dukes of the north of Germany, have not felt the same
fears on this subject as the king of Prussia, they have been com
pelled through his influence and that of Austria, to assume at least
the appearance of being unfriendly to an excess of scepticism in
the universities ; and in some of these institutions, orthodox pro
fessors have been chosen within a few years.
Frederick William has adopted two modes of eradicating neolo
gism, which promise to be at least apparently successful. The first
of these is the introduction of a liturgy into the Evangelical church.
The means he has since made use of to compel the new theologians
to adopt it,-Jiave been referred to in a previous letter. The second
mode is, that of filling the professors' chairs with those only who
are Orthodox. He had seen the immense influence of the univer
sities, in the diffusion of scepticism during the latter half of the last
century, and the first twelve years of the present. These fountains
of rationalism he has accordingly determined, to make at least poli
tically Orthodox. The profound attainments and brilliant talents of
many of the neologistic professors had given them a fame, in which
the Prussians gloried. Their authority over the intellectual part
of the nation was so great, that the king dared not remove them
from their places. He has chosen a more gradual method of puri
fying these seats of learning ; that of filling the vacancies occasioned
by death or removal, with men who not only profess, but who will
also teach supernaturalism. He has not confined this policy fo
the theological department, but has made the orthodoxy of those
who fill the chairs of law and philosophy also, to be to some extent
the passport to his favour. As the lectures of most of those who
fill these departments, are neither immediately nor remotely con
nected with theology, the Neologists have regarded this step with
feelings of indignation. They say that men of brilUant talents are
often overlooked on account of their liberality of sentiment, and

BtFECTS Ot ROYAJ, PATRONAOE, 4lt
that supernaturalists of very inferior talents, are preferred even
in~ those branches of literature, which have not the least connexion
with theology. The neologists as well as their opponents, now
admit, that orthodoxy is the stepping stone to literary preferment.
By thus patronising the cause of SupernaturaUsm, the government
are certain of finding many converts in such a country as Prussia :
both because the natives of that country are born monarchists, and.
in the eyes of many, the actions of the king are holy in comparison
with those of other men, and because the difficulty of acquiring a
subsistence is so great, (for the literary market is crowded) that
many will change their creeds for the sake of their daily bread.
The effect of this measure of the king, has been a great increase in
the number of orthodox pyfessors. In Berlin, where a few years
MUce there was not one in the theological department, they now
form the majority ; and in the other universities of Prussia, they
exist in considerable numbers.
The effect of this patronage on true religion will be most
unfortunate. Very many, who are Neologists at heart, will be Su
pernaturalists only in profession. All those who turn from interest,
however . Orthodox they may be in their lecture-roOms, -will be
unable always compltetely to invest themselves with this false
garb; the cloven foot will sometimes appear. This effect hag
already become ¦visible to both parties. The Neologists say, that
there is very little more real orthodoxy at the present time than
ten years since : the Orthodox themselves universally admit, that
of those who profess and teach these sentiments, only a small
proportion are so in truth ; by this I intend, that they do not
believe in that thorough change of character, which is inculcated
by Christ in his conversation with Nicodemus, although they teach
it to their students. The doctrine of regeneration is regarded by
many of them very much in the same light as -a political or
mathematical truth, and as possessing little, if any more, moral
influence. Such an exotic faith cannot flourish in the cold soil of
hypocrisy. Nothing but the artificial heat which fear or interest
win excite, can keep it from perishing. It will, it must be dis
covered, to be a native of another clime ; and, when this is known,
its influence will be deleterious. A hypocrite, whatever may be
his faith, does more injury to the cause he has espoused, than
S4

418 EFFECTS OF ROYAL PATRONAGE.
many sincere believers can counteract by their example- Why,
in Italy and in France, are so large a portion of the intelligent
men sceptics ? It is because so many of the priests live in direct
opposition to their professions. The people soon cease to inquire
whether the precepts proclaimed are good or bad, but condemn
them at once from the noxious fruit they seem to produce.
Though precisely the same effects will not exist in this country,
since the Germans are, comparatively, a moral people, they will
extend so far as to lead a large proportion of the students to doubt
the truths which they hear inculcated. But, although they cherish
such doubts, they will, undoubtedly, in great numbers, become
nominally Orthodox ; for the only question with the government
will be, is his creed right ? and it will ask no farther. If this is
found to be the case, they will, if intellectually qualified, be per
mitted to deliver lectures. In these. Neologism vrill be attacked,
and SupernaturaUsm defended, so long as the tide^sets in favour of
the latter. Royal eyes have discovered it to be the truth, and
such 'optics are peculiarly acute in Germany, where patronage is
associated with the reception of the monarch's opinions. This
royal keenness of vision will be praised and admired by all men
destitute of principle, just so long as they hope to obtain a portion
of the loaves and fishes, and no longer. Any creed, no matter
what it may be, when thus resting on a factitious foimdation, will
crumble to pieces very soon after a change takes place in the
religious sentiments of the ruler, or whenever he is succeeded by
one whose faith differs from his own. It "will then " fade away
like the baseless fabric of a vision."
Of the number of Orthodox professors and teachersin the theolo
gical department, it is impossible to give you any very definite infor
mation, as I have yet found bo German who could inform me. The
majority of that faculty in Berlin and Tiibingen, nominally hold these
sentiments, and some of them are certainly sincere. In Halle there
are but two, and in Gottingen not one; though Staudlein, who
died after my leaving that city, had been for some years previous
to his death, losing his attachment to Neologism, and rapidly
approaching the line which divides the two parties. In Leipzig
there are several ; in Heidelberg at least two; and in Bonn two or
three. In all the Prussian miiversities there are a number, though

THEOLOGICAL PROFESSORS. 4I9
there is none, excepting Berlin, which can be^nsidered as Ortho
dox; that IS, where the majority of the professors are of this
character. The lectures of many of this' class are attended bJ-
numerous audiences, although, with the exception of those of the
BerUn university, the rooms of the Neologists are much more
crowded than those of their opponents. During my residence in
that city, the lectures of professor Neander and .Tholuc were much
more frequented than even those of Schleiennacher, who is
universally considered as possessing the brightest mind of any
theologian of Prussia. It is difficult to account for this fact, for
eight-tenths of the students were Neologists, and of the remainder
many were only, theoreticaUy, SupernaturaUsts. Among the
professors of the other departments, there are in every university,
with the exception of Gottingen, a number who profess to believe
in Revelation. In that institution there are very few, if any, who
are Openly orthodox.
Of the comparative number of Neologistic and Orthodox con
gregations I am ignorant, as there are no published reports
jespecting the Lutheran church. Were such a statement to
appear, it would be almost equally difficult to ascertain the fact,
as the peculiar sentiments of the clergy would not be alluded to.
No one, to whom my inquiries have been addressed, has been
willing to give me a definite answer ; and when by repeated
efforts I have succeeded in procuring answers,' I have never found
any two persons who have agreed. Both parties unite in saying,
that Neologism has lost groiind rapidly in Germany within a few
years. The Supernaturalists assert that there is much theoretical
Orthodoxy, but at the same time maintain that real religion is
much more flourishing than at any previous period since the time
of Kant, and that it is making new conquests every year. In
support of these opinions, they allege that the number of theolo
gical professors has greatly increased ; and that in many towns,
where a few years since there was not one Orthodox clergytnan,
there are now several, and that the number is continually increas
ing. In Berlin, for example, where there was but one, there are
now twelve, at least half of whom are said to be sincere Super
naturaUsts. In Elberfeld, there are now ten such congregations,
where a few years since there were none. They state also, that

420 NEOLOGISTIC CEBED.
there have been rȣprmations in various parts of Prussia, (they
use this word in the same sense as we use the phrase, revivals of
neligion,) within a few years, and that they not unfrequently occur
at the present time. How extensiyely these reformations have
existed, is unknown, as there are no reports made of the state of
the church, as no examination of individuals takes place, and as
there is comparatively little conversation on the subject of religion
between the clergyman and his people here. The church, as we
use this word, is in Prussia, considered as invisible, and it is
strikingly so to the eyes of a foreigner.
The opinions of individuals, belonging to each of the two great
parties, on the subject of religion are endlessly various. There is
only one common ground on which they unite ; the reception, or
the rejection, of Revelation. This is the broad line of demarcation.
Few of the Neologists agree,- excepting on this point, being subdi
vided into many schools, in which scarcely two persons can be
found who have precisely, the same creed. They may be ar
ranged under three classes : the proper Rationalists, the IdeaUsts,
and the Panth^sts, The first class owe their origin to Kant.
JThey make reason the touchstone to which they apply revelation.
The Idealists* do not belong to any phUosOpMfcal school, but
take some of their sentiments from this, and some, from that
system. They introduce their philosophical notions into the
Bible, and explain it in a symbolical manner. The Pantheists,
who form a very small minority, accommodate Christianity to
their peculiar system of philosophy. These are the leading
divisions of Neologism. They might be divided and subdivided,
until your patience would be exhausted.
Though there is not the same variety of faith, among the Ortho
dox, they are very far from being united. They agree in submitting
reason, and every philosophical system to Revelation. On the
subject of revelation, however, they differ not a little. Most of
the Orthodox, I here speak of the professors, do not believe so
fully in the Old as in the New Testament. The majority, how
ever, of the clergy of that class, give equal credit to the inspira
tion of both. This want of .belief, results from the critical
"* This class must not be confounded with the Idealists, the former followers
ef Fichte,

ORTHODOX CREEDS. 421
investigations respecting the inspiration of the Old Testament,
which have been published during the last half century. As yet
no Orthodox writer has, in il;ieir opinion, been able to meet the
arguments of Neologism. The majority of the Supernaturalists
profess to believe the miracles of the Old Testament, though
many reject them. As a sect, they believe that the books were
written at a much later period than they profess to -have been
composed; and that as their authenticity has not been proved, the
miracles cannot be. Most of them admit the miracles of the
Apostles ; and all, believe in those of our Saviour. Some of them,
however, do not attach the same importance to the- instructions of
the former, as to those of Christ. There are a few who do not
believe the Apostles to have been inspired, but what the proportion
is 1 am ignorant.
The doctrine of the eternity of future punishment is almost univer
saUy rejected. I have seen but one person in Germany who believed
it, and but one other whose mind was wavering on this suDject.
Many of them acknowledgie- that the New Testament seems to
inculcate this doctrine ; but they find it, as they say, so irrecon
cilable with our ideas of of the infinitely benevolent Being, whom
God has revealed himself to be, that if they believe in his perfec
tions, they must reject the doctrine. Some contend that it is not
even apparently announced. To those texts which are generally
beUeved with us to involve it, they give a different explanation in
their interpretation; finding, as they beUeve, philological difii-
culties in the way. Some few would meet the arguments of those
who beUeve it, by asserting, that the oldest manuscript of the
New Testament, is of the sixth century ; and that, during the
Arian and other controversies which agitated the Church from the
^ge of the Apostles until that time ; there is not only a possibility,
but a probability, that some errors have made their way into the
text. Others affirm, as one of the Orthodox professors who is
considered to, be eminent for his piety, told me, respecting him
self, that tbis_ doctrine evidently appears in the, New Testament,
but that his heart could not receive it, unless he were to change
his views of the character of God. That we now enjoy but -a
single ray of Revelation in comparison with the ligjit Which will
liurst upon our view in the future world ; and that when we come

422 OPINIONS OF THE ORTHODOX.
to behold the glory of God, as it will there be revealed to us, he
believed that this apparent difiiculty in his moral government,
iwciuld be explained.
The belief in the Sabbath, as an institution binding upon us in
the sense in which it is generally viewed in the United States, is
universally "rejected. In my conversations with very many on
this subject, I have never seen nor heard of one who did not
regard it as a Mosaic institution, merely. They say that " every
day should be a Sabbath to the Christian,' but that as we are
required to assemble together for religious worship, it is necessary
to select a particular day. As government have determined upon
the day, it is our duty to observe that in preference to another."
The existence of religion depends on the observance of -the
Sabbath. Wherever it is observed, religion flourishes, and exactly
in proportion to its observance. Should anyone doubt this, let
him compare England, Scotland; and the United States of America,
whefe the Sabbath is exclusively observed, with France, Itaty,
arid Germany, where it is comparatively disregarded. To me it
appears that the Sabbath is the foundation of our political pros
perity. A republic cannot exist ¦without religion, and religion
cannot extensively flourish without the observance of that day. If
we should abolish the Sabbath in our country, the great barrier to
that immorality would be broken down, which has destroyed
most republics which have preceded us, and which promises to
destroy those of South America.
The Orthodox regard us as very heretical in our views of re
sistance to oppression.* They impUcitly beUeve in the duty of
submission to your legitimate sovereign, for they make a dis
tinction between one who has inherited a throne, and a usurper.
The fact tJiat every monarch of Europe acquired most or all of

¦^ One of the Germans who was distinguished for his holy life, and for the
benevolence of his heirt, remarked to me, that he did not see how any one
who believed, that under any circumstance it was lawful to resist your ruler.
could be a. good man. I have in~ no other instance, discovered the same
narrpwness of vision, or tlie same adherence to a minor point of faith. Per
haps this may prove a lesson to some one of my readers, who is disposed to
shut the gates of Heaven upon all those, who believe ninety and nine articles
of his creed, but who reject the hundredth.

CHARACTER OF THE ORTHODOX. 423
hi^ territory by the usurpations and conquests of his ancestors, or
by his own, makeS no difference in his claims to legitimacy. They
accordingly justify themselves for throwing off the French yoke,
on the ground that Napoleon was a usurper. As the Poles have
been subject to Russia, Austria, and Prussia, during several suc
cessions, they would now condemn them for resistance. Thank
Heaven that this article of their creed has never found its way into
our country. They generally found this opinion on the direction
of Paul to the Roman church : " let every soul be subject unto the
highe?- powers ; — the powers that be are ordained of God."
; Some of those with whom I have conversed, appear to be emi
nent for their piety. I have never seen any- Christians, who
seemed to me to have a deeper sense of the odiousness of Sin in
( the sight of God, or whose hearts beat with a more ardent grati-
, tude for' our Saviour, for the great redemption he has made for
. Mien man. I know of no examples of humility, greater than those
exhibited by some of these gentlemen, or more elevated views of
the character of God than you, discover in their conversation. So
far as an opinion can be formed of them from their reputation, and
from their conversation, we must look in vain ,for brighter examples
of piety than they exhibit. They certainly manifest a greater
spirit of love for those who differ from tliem, than is found in most
of our sects, and they feel very unwilling to shut the gates of
heaven against all those who do not beUeve every article of their
creed. In this charity and love, the Christians of most Protestant
countries virould do well to imitate them.
, Predestination, as taught by Calvin, is almost universally re
jected by the Orthodox. I, have never met with a German who
beUeved it.- There are, however, a very small number in Elber
feld and in the province of Kleve Berg, who still receive this, doc
trine as a part of their faith. ' ^
Inmy letter on the churches of Prussia,^ allusion is made to the
" great' difiiculties which, prevented the clergy from acquiring that
influence over their people, which the same body of men exert in
our own country. Th«;y instruct their children previously to con
firmation, and their congi-egations also from the pulpit ; but having
no separate builfling, where they can often meet those who are
interested in religion, they haVevery limited means of learning the

424 STYLE Of PREACHING.
State of it in their parishes. From this cause, as well as from their
comparative poverty, there is very little intercourse between them
and the greater majority of their parishioners. The jpractice of
making pastoral visits, as tvith us, is^ unknown. They perform the
duties prescribed by law, but they are not, as with us, the Shepherds
of their flocks. Froni the ^great retirement in which they live,
their influence is greatly circumscribed, particularly in relation to
the extremes of society ; for these two classes in the large towns,
rarely attend church, and in the country, have but a very limited
intercourse with their pastor.
The sermons of the Neologistic clergymen treat principally of
the duties of morality. They are often written in a fine style, and
exhibit much compass of thought. Those of the Orthodox are not
as much addressed to the conscience, as the sermons we are accus
tomed to hear in the United States : this results probably from the
fact, that they are not so well acquainted with the heart, in con
sequence of their restricted intercourse with their parishioners ; as .
well as from the scepticism of many of the nominal Orthodox.
They rarely preach in such a manner as to alarm their hearers,
believing that it is much the wiser course to allure men to truth
and boUness, by exhibitions of the mercy of God, rather than by
preaching the' terrors of the law.
Metaphysical preaching, of which I have as yet heard none here,
is regarded as injurious ; as not only doing the hearer no good,
but as also tending to harden the speaker's heart. Their sermons
are more adapted to the understanding of their auditors, and by
them they are understood. They preach doctrinal sermons, rarely;
believing that those which are practical, are much more useful.
Their manner of preaching is sometimes animated in their utter
ance, but they are very hostile to gesture, on the ground that it
may be regarded ' as an imitation of the player. This, to me,
ridiculous prejudice, is universal in this country. If much of the
effect produced by the actor is owing to his action, why should not
the clergyman avail himself of this most powerful means of arrest
ing the attention of his hearers ? Why are the French and Italians
more eloquent in conversation than any people in Europe ? Be
cause they feel no embarassnient, and because they make gestures,
whenever nature prompts them. I know of nothing more eloquent

STYLE OF PREACHING. 425
than the gestures made by an infant in distress, or than the panto
mimic action of Italy. Why should we not avail ourselves of this
impressive language of nature 1 Action is one of the most powerful
means of producing an effect upon mankind, whether it is seen in
the pulpit, or the stage, or in our western forests. I should as soon
think of not eating roast beef, because Talma and Devrient, the
great actors of Paris and BerUn, eat it, as of not using njy arms in
' addressing an audience, because they do.

55

426

LETTER XXIV.

Weimar, 1826.
Soon after the date of my last letter, I left Leipzig for Weimar,
in one of those brilliant evenings so often seen here during the
months of August and September. Goethe says, somewhere in his
autobiography, that a very agreeable sensation is experienced
by a lover, when a new attachment commences before the old one
is entirely extinguished. Thus at the setting sun one beholds with
joy the moon ascending on the opposite side of the horizon, and
rejoices in the double splendour of those heavenly bodies. Though
my residence in Saxony had not placed me in a situation to feel
all the beauty of this comparison, I enjoyed in a very high degree
the brilliancy of this almost Italian evening. As we left the gates
of the city, the Sun was drawing a rich mantle of clouds around
him, which he lighted up with most gorgeous colours. In the east
the full moon soon elevated her silvery form above the spires of
the apparently receding city, shedding a brighter and brighter
effulgence upon the expanding landscape, as the rich tints of the
west gradually faded away. As we rolled on, the moon climbed her
upward path, rejoicing in her brightness, and in the lovely scene
which she illumined. It was at this hour that we crossed the field
of Lutzen, so memorable in the thirty j-ears' war, and in the recent
struggle for liberty. On the left side of the road, a short distance
from Lutzen, is a small monument of granite, placed on the spot
where Gustavus Adolphus fell in the noblest cause for which man
ever combated. Though less than two centuries have passed away
since the hero hallowed this plain with his blood, no Protestant
can behold this humble monument, without feeling emotions of a
much more elevated character, than those which are awakened by

BATTLE OF LUTZEN. 427
the mighty ruins that rise in the Roman Forum, recalling to his
mind by their gigantic forms, the ages of departed glory.
The second battle of Lutzen, though not more obstinately con
tested, was more terrific in its carnage and in the number of com
batants, than that in which Gustavus fell. As connected with the
greatest events which have agitated the world, it will always be
viewed with great interest ; but when standing by the humble stone
which reminds you of that hero's end, the modern contest is for
gotten. No cause for which man ever fought was more holy ; no
monarch who has girded on the sword of battle, was ever actua
ted by purer motives than the sovereign of Sweden. His chival-
ric courage, the sacrifices which he made in defending the rights of
conscience, the resources he exhibited in the hour of greatest dan
ger, and the brilliant triumphs of his short career, rendered him
the idol of his army, the glory of his nation, and one of the bright
est ornaments of the human race. Nations wept at his fall, for he
had wrought out for them a deliverance from oppression ; and suc
ceeding generations will regard him, to the end of time, as one of
the greatest benefactors of mankind.
Weimar is not distinguished for its beauty or architecture. The
palace of the grand duke is spacious, but the country seat of his
son is in magnitude and taste, not superior to many of the palaces
of the private gentlemen of the continent. Charles Augustus felt
more interest in literature than in magnificent edifices and splendid
furniture, and instead of consuming his revenue in ornaments for
his palace, he appropriated it to his university at Jena, and to the
increase of the library for the use of the citizens and of the dis
tinguished poets who had been drawn to his capital by his patron
age. This library now contains one hundred and ten thousand
volumes. It is very rich in those departments which would be pe
culiarly interesting to the poet and philosopher, as well as in natu
ral history, the favourite study of the grand duke.
The celebrated geographical institution of Weimar is the most
extensive in Germany. Connected with it is a very extensive esta
blishment of lithography and engraving, numerous printing presses,
and a manufactory of globes. Hassel, the great geographer of
Germany, superintends the geographical department of this insti
tution. More than two hundred persons are here employed in

428 WEIMAR. ,
providing mental nutriment for Germany. This Is one of the
largest private manufacturing establishments I have seen, and as
much more interesting than most others, as the wants of the mind
are superior to those of the body. Herr von Froriep, the proprie
tor of this establishment, is one of the most interesting and ac
complished gentlemen you will meet in a three years' ramble on
the continent.
Weimar contained in 1821, according to Hassel, 203,000 inhabi
tants, of whom 184,700 belonged to the Lutheran, 6,100 to the
Reformed, and 9,100 to the Catholic church. The yearly revenue
is 1,875,000 guldens. The army is small, consisting of not more
than 2000 men, which is about the number of troops Weimar must
furnish to the Alliance in case of a Germanic war. The grand
duke has given a constitution to his subjects, and the parUament
holds its regular sessions. The inhabitants appear to care very
little about their constitution, as the administration of the grand
duke has been so equitable, that they have never been desirous of
an extension of their freedom.
Weinaar, the capital of the small duchy of that name, has acquired
an influence in Germany, rarely enjoyed by a city of its limited
population. The present grand duke, who inherited the dominions
of his father in 1758; displayed, soon after he ascended the throne
in 1775, the same love of literature which had distinguished his
mother during her regency. His territory was so small in extent
and population, that he clearly saw that it would be impossible for
him to gain, either by conquest, or by the resources of his Uttle state,
much weight in the balance of power of Europe. As all monarchs
love distinction, he resolved to obtain it by becoming the patron of
literature in Germany. Goethe was then^a rising star in the literary
horizon of his country. The grand duke, whose mind had been
formed by his celebrated instructer, the poet Wieland, soon
discovered the talents of the bard of Frankfort. Accordingly, he
invited him to Weimar, with the offer of a pension sufiicient to
enable him to pursue his literary career, without any of those
trials to which the intellectually great are so often exposed. This
invitation Goethe accepted, and in a few months after the succession
of his patron, he chose that city as his futui-e residence. Whenever
the grand duke saw men of genius, he held out to them the most

CHARLES AUOUSTUS. 429
flattering proposals, and in a short time Wieland, Goethe, Herder,
Schiller, and Musaus, formed a consteUation of the first magnitude,
diffusing Ught, not only on Weimar, but throughout Germany.
These men were the bosom friends of their sovereign, and in their
society he passed many of those hours which were not devoted to
the affairs of state. Enjoying that patronage so often indispensable
to success in their career, they devoted their talents to various
departments of literature, and in a few years gave a renown to
Weimar never previously possessed by any city of Germany, and
rarely, if ever equalled, by any other of moderate extent, since
Athens ceased to diffuse its Ught over the south of Europe. Of
this bright Circle, the grand duke and Goethe only remain. They
have beheld one and another of their companions caUed to the
land of silence, and can now converse with them only in their
works, and in the scenes which memory recals to their view.
Charles Augustus is now sixty-nine years of age, and with tho
exception of the king of Saxony, has reigned longer than any
monarch now living in Europe. His reign has been marked by mild
ness and wisdom, and rarely has the sun looked down upon a people
who are more attached to their ruler, or beheld a better sovereign.
Ever since he ascended the throne, he has been a munificent patron
of letters, and under his fostering hand, the university of Jena rose
to the first rank among the German institutions. , For some years
it contained more than a thousand students, and among its pro
fessors it enrolled the names of Schiller, SchelUng, Schlegel,
Luden, Oken, and several others, men of whom any country might
be proud. Since the death of Kotzebue, this school has greatly
diminished in numbers, in consequence of the political excitement
occasioned by the Wartburg festival, and from its having been the
residence of Sand, the murderer of that poet. Some of the mo
narchs have refused to give their subjects permission to Study there,
while many young men have thought, that an education at Jena
would prove a barrier to their success in life. In consequence, it
contains at the present time less than five hundred students ; and,
until the political fever which agitates many of the governments of
this country subsides, it will not re-assume. its proper rank among
the universities of Germany."
* Charles Augustus died about the close of the year 1828. In his will he

430 GOETHE.
Goethe is the wtffg-ntis Apollo of German literature, and Careigners
resort to this town from all parts of Europe to see him ; many of
whom, independently of his residence here, would be almost
unconscious of the locality of Weimar. He has been for fifty years
the favourite poet as well as prose writer of his country, and no
man of genius, except Voltaire,~ ever had as much incense offered
at his shrine. The mention of his name excites aglow in the mind
Of the student, and with his works every intelligent German is
more familiar than with those of any other writer. The great
difficulty of mastering this copious language, has confined his fame
to this side of the Rhine, while the miserable translations which
have been made of his works, both in French and English, have
given but a distorted picture of his great and powerful mind. All
the spirit of his poetry has evaporated in these foreign idioms ;
and the reviewers, who apparently knew little more of his works
than what they derived from these translations, have amused
themselves and their countrymen, who were most of them equally
ignorant of the language of the original, with humorous sallies and
satirical remarks upon the character and mind of one who has
been the wonder of his country.- It is from such distortions, that
we have formed our opinion of a genius scarcely inferior to Shaks
peare and Milton; and who in attainments yields not to the author
of Comus.* Objects seen by the eye of ignorance, are usually
divested of their beauty, and when beheld through such a dull
medium as the translations of most of the German poets, or the
directed that his remains should hereafter be placed between those of Goethe
and Schiller, the former on his right and the latter on his left hand. This is tho
only instance in the history of literature, where a monarch has, even in death,
been unwilling to be separated from those who had no claim on his patronage
but that of-genius. Goethe is still living ; Schiller died in 1805.
* Even at the present day, little is known in England of German literature.
The Foreign Quarterly Review, in allusion to this subject says, " 'We English
men live far too much in a world of our own ; we have too high ideas of
the importance of every thing done in England, and are too apt to undervalus
the proceedings of other countries. It need, not be said, that we know almost
nothing of tho writings of other countries. A few poets, historians, and
scientific writers, came over to us; but of the mass of writings on religion,
reformation, and of change of opinion on the continent, we absolutely know
nothing."

eOETHE. 431
deep inwrought prejudice of most reviewers, they assume unnatural
forms and colours. From these causes arise the different estimates
which have been formed of Goethe and Schiller, in England and
in Germany. The latter is only known in our language by a
translation of Wallenstein, and by the works of his boyhood,
especially by his Robbers, which he wrote at seventeen years of
age ; and from this puerile effort, when compared with the pro
duction of his manhood, many regard the mind of the author, as a
blending of all that is wild and extravagant, as teeming with more
schw'drmerey, than ever filled the heart and brain of the most
mystical enthusiast. In Germany, however, Schiller has created
a national drama, and, in a country, too, where Shakspeare is as
much read and admired, as in England and the United States. An
enlightened people like the Germans, cannot for thirty years have
formed such an estimate of their great dramatist, if his plays
possess the character usually ascribed to them by the English.
Goethe has been for more than half a century, riot only univer
sally admired, but almost idolized. Monarchs, from the Neva to
the Rhine, have united with their subjects in paying him the
tribute of their homage ; and not a small number have visited
Weimar,* to behold the man who has elevated himself by the force
of his genius, and his creative power, above any monarch who now
sways his sceptre in Europe. His Iphigenia is the most classic
poem of the last century, and strikingly exhibits the purity and
melody of German verse, when moulded by such a mind. His
countrymen regard it with admiration, as characterized by a purity
of diction, and a poetic beauty, of which they were not previously
conscious that their rich and glowing language was capable. No
writer, except Scott in Ivanhoe, has ever produced such a picture
of the feudal ages, as you find in Gbtz von Berlichengen ; and
while perusing it, you as really live in that wild stormy period, as
'* From the Emperor Alexander, Goethe received the order of St. Anne,
and that of Alexander Newsky. Napoleon presented him with the cross of
the Legion of Honour ; and, while at 'Weimar, in a circle of monarchs and
princes, passed most of the evening in conversation with the poet. The grand
duke has given him the cross of the 'White Falcon of Weimar, and the emperor
of Austria that of the order of Leopold. In 1827, the king of Bavaria rode a
journey to that city to visit the poet, and to present him with the grand cross
of the order of Merit.

432 OOBTHE.
when climbing the lofty towers, or wandering over the monuments
which spread such a charm over the landscapes of the Rhine.
Shakspeare has never created a scene, where stronger, or more
heart rending passion is exhibited, than in the visit of Faust to
Margaret, while in prison ; nor has his genius more perfectly deve-
loped'tbe wonderful conceptions of his mind, than has been done
by Goethe, in the three prominent characters of that extraordinary
poem.* I am not here merely repeating the opinions which the
Germans have formed of him ; they are those of every foreigner
I ^have ever seen, who has had a sufficient knowledge of the
language to understand Faust in the original.
With such feelings towards Goethe, you can easily believe that
no little interest was felt by me in beholding a man, who has been
the pride of his country, and the envy of monarchs. Never 'was
my curiosity more intense, than when I was usbered into his
parlour, or than in the few minutes which elapsed before he
entered. As the door opened, I saw approaching me, a tall form,
slightly bending with age. I had often heard, that he possessed
the noblest physiognomy of any of the literati of Germany, and
although I had formed a brilliant ideal of his physical man,
when beholding his lofty forehead, his beaming eye, and the
beautiful features of his expressive countenance, I felt that there
was a suitable mansion for such a mind. Though he has probably
seen more distinguished society than any scholar or poet of
Europe, he appears somewhat embarrassed when you are first
presented to him. I should have imputed this to his ill health
(foot he was slightly indisposed when I first saw him,) had not one
of his most intimate friends subsequently informed me, that he
had never been able entirely to conquer this feeling, by his exten
sive intercourse with the world. It is only after a long acquaint
ance 'with'Jiim, when the stranger ceases and you meet him on
terms of familiarity, that you see the whole of his character. It
is then that he opens to your view the rich treasures of his elevated
-mind, that you discover that deep feeling, that keen satire, that
playful humour, and that intimate knowledge of every nuance of
* The introduction to Faust, and the scone in heaven, were added to it
many years after its first piiblication. No one can peruse the last-mentioned
scene, without lamenting that Goethe a^dod it to that poem.

GOETHE. 433
the human character, which are stamped with such power and
beauty on the pages of Faust. There are few departments of
literature with which Goethe has not made himself familiar ; there
are few which do not afford illustrations to his mind, when con
versing with a friend. Though I had the pleasure of seeing him
in several instances, I had no opportunity of hearing him in the
rich flow of his animated conversation. Those, who have been
thus favoured, describe it as the richest intellectual, banquet they
have ever enjoyed, such as would be anticipated by his most
enthusiastic admirers.
During Goethe's residence at Weimar, his Ufe has been one
continued scene of prosperity. He has not, like most poets, who-
have arrived at his advanced age, outUved his popularity. He
has had powerful competitors, who have contended with him for
the first place in the admiration of his countrymen, but he has
outstripped them all. They have, apparently, consented to ac
knowledge their inferiority. Though many of his literary rivals
have been his companions at Weimar, the utmost harmony has
prevailed in their circle ; nothing having ever occurred, to lessen
that friendship which continued until Wieland, the last but one
of this brotherhood, had deceased. Many years since, I believe
in 1782, Goethe received the diploma of nobility from his patron,
and was chosen one of the ministers of state. This office he
resigned after a short time, as the duties connected with that
station prevented him from devoting his time to his favourite
pursuits. Though now seventy-seven years of age, he is con
stantly occupied with his literary labours. He has recently
disposed of his works for a hundred thousand rix dollars, the
Diet at Frankfort having given to him and his successors, a copy
right for fifty years. The purchaser is now printing a new
edition of his works, much fuller than has ever appeared. To its
appearance his countrymen are looking forward with not a little
interest ; not merely on account of the new works which it will
include, but also from his strictures upon Faust, which he has
promised to publish. This work has been moi'e analysed, and
has given birth to more criticisms, than any other which has ever
appeared in the German language. As no two critics are agreed
56

434 GOETHE.
as to the object of the writer, the literati of this country are not a
little gratified to learn, that this chaos of criticism will soon be
enlightened. Goethe is as popular with the inhabitants of Weimar as with his
countrymen at a distance. During the last year they showed their at
tachment to him, by preparing a beautiful festival in commemoration
of his arrival in that city fifty years before. Some thousands were
present to witness the tribute paid to his genius, in which all united
with an enthusiasm which could only have been awakened by the
love they felt for their illustrious fellow citizen. A few months
before, they had celebrated the completion of the fiftieth year of
their sovereign's reign, with all the gratitude which so beneficent
a monarch has merited from the hearts of his people.
Goethe has written his autobiography, in a work entitled Avs
meinem Leben, or Extracts from my Life, and this was afterwards
continued in another work, bearing the title of Dichtung und
Wahrheit, or Poetry and Truth. In these works and in several
others, he has presented a very full view of his life, from his
childhood until some years after his removal to Weimar. He has
here exhibited a most minute account of himself, so much so as not
only to excite the ri(Jicule of the Edinburgh Review, a few years
since, but to make every reader wish, that the events of his child
hood had not occupied so much of his thoughts. With this
exception there is no part of his autobiography, which the reader
who is acquainted with Germany, would be willing to dispense
with, and the Germans themselves even peruse that ¦with the
greatest pleasure, so strong is the interest they feel in every thing
which relates to their great poet. In his life he has presented the
most exact account of the state of German literature, during the
middle and latter part ofthelast century, which exists in any language.
Thereput9,tion which he acquired in early Ufe, made him acquainted
with most of the literary men of the age, while his intimate know
ledge of mankind, enabled him to present most philosophical
views ot" the human character. I know of no work, in prose,
which exhibits a more minute acquaintance with the heart, no one
which for style and rich poetic thought is superior to it. The
story of Frederika, is one of the most interesting romances that

OOETHE. 435
has ever existed in real life ; as lovely as any which appear In the
visions of boyhood. Her character, as drawn by his magical pen,
is a union of dignity, beauty, and loveliness, seldom seen in this
imperfect world. She soon becomes the companion of your mind,
and often in the agitating and mournful scenes of life, she flits
before your memory, like a gleam of sunshine in a day of clouds.
Weimar, notwithstanding it is the residence of the grand duke,
is one of the smallest capitals of Europe, containing in 1820, only
8,773 inhabitants. Though smaller than one of the suburbs of
Berlin or Vienna, it still has been, during the last fifty years, one
of the prominent cities on the continent, and towards it the
eyes of miUions have been turned with the gaze of admiration.
Here those illustrious for their talents, the creators of a nation's
Uterature, have Uved, here most of them have fallen, and are now
reposing. Here genius has delighted to dwell, and here she has
Ughted up a flame, which has illumined Germany, and which will
only expire when time shall be no more.

APPENDIX.

INDEX
LECTIONUM
ftUAE AUSPICIIS REGIS AUGUSTISSIMI
FRroERlCI GUILELMI TERTII
IN
UNIVERSITATE LITTERARIA
BEROLINENSI
PER SEMESTRE HIBERNUM
MDCCCXXV-MDCCCXXVI A DIE XXIV OCTOBRIS INSTITCENTUB.

LECTIONES.

I. ORDINIS THEOLOGICI.
1. Professorum ordinariorum.
P. MARHEINECKE, Dr.
Privatim 1) Encyclopaediam theologicam cum historia dis-
ciplinarum theologicarum docebit quinquies p. hebd. hor.
IV-V. 2) Theologiam dogmaticam ecclesiae Christianae
quinquies p. hebd. h. V-VI.
A. NEANDER, Dr.
I. Publice 1) Aevi apostolici imaginem adumbrare apostolo-
rumque historiam illustrare conabitur bin. p. hebd. hor. die
Sat. hor. XII-II. 2) In lectionibus de insignibus ecclesiae
doctoribus perget bin. p. hebd. hor. dieb. lovis et Ven. h.
XI-XII.
II. Privatim 1) Historiam posteriorum ecclesiae saeculorum
enarrabit quinquies per hebd. h. XII-I. 2) Epistolas ad
Corinthios et unam alteramve ex minoribus D. Pauli epis-
tolis interpretabitur quinquies p. hebd. hor. I-II.
F. SCHLEIERMACHER, Dr.
Privatim 1) Historiae ecclesiasticae compendium uno absol-
vendum semestri tradet quinquies p. hebd. hor. VIII-IX
2) Acta apostolorum interpretabitur quinquies p. hebd. hor.
IX-X.

438 APPENDIX.
F. STRAUSS, Dr.
I. Publice 1) Historiam rerum homileticarum enarrabit d.
Merc. hor. XII-I. 2) Exercitationes homileticas moderari
perget d. Lun. et Mart. hor. VI-VIII.
II. Privatim homileticen docebit quater p. hebd. hor. XII— I.
2. Professorum extraordinariorum,
I. I. BELLEMANN, Dr.
Privatim Psalmos quinquaginta priores explicabit dieb. Merc.
et Sat. hor. XI-XII.
F. BLEEK, Lie.
I. Publice evangeliorum Matthaei, Marci, Lucae partem pos-
teriorem explicabit horis constituendis.
II. Privatim 1) Historiam criticam librorum Novi Test, tradet
quater p. hebd. h. XI-XII. 2) Librum lesaiae explicabit
quinquies p. hebd. h. X-XI.
A. THOLUCK, Lie.
I. Publice historiam theologiae saeculi XVIII. tradet et prin-
cipia Supranaturalismi et Rationalismi explicabit.
II. Privatim 1) Dogmaticen Christianam quater p. hebd.
docebit. 2) Locos prophetarum Messianos expUcabit qua
ter p. hebd. 3. Privatim docentium.
G. BOHL, Lie.
I. Gratis epistolas de Pauli ad Ephesios et Philippenses d.
Merc, et Sat. hor. X-XI. interpretabitur.
II. Privatim tradet explicationem historicam dogmatum eorum,
quae in libris symbolicis ecclesiae evangelicae Lutheranae
et Reformatae proposita stmt, quater p. hebd. h. X-XI.
G. BOHMER, Lie.
I. Gratis historiam sex priorum ecclesiae Christianae saecu
lorum enarrabit d. Merc. hor. IX-X. et Sat. hor. IX-XI.
II. Privatim evangelium D. Lucae expUcabit quater p. hebd.
h. IX-X.
E. G. HENGSTENBERG, Lie.
Privatim \y Historiam Hebraeorum tradet inde a primis tem-
poribus usque ad Hierosolymonun excidium quater p. hebd.
h. IX-X. 3) Psalmos explicabit quinquies per hebd. h.
X-XI.
F. UHLEMANN, Lie,
I. Gratis 1) Introductionem historicam criticam in Yet. Test.
libros tradet d. Merc, et Sat. hor. IlI-IV. 2) Christologiam
Vet. Test, enarrabit et prophetarum vaticinia de Messia
expUcabit d. Lun. et lov. hor. III-IV. 3) Elementa lin
guae Syriacae docebit duce libro suo (Elcmentarlehre der
Syrischcn Sprache, Berlin b. Eiislin) hora adhuc constitu-
enda.

APPENDIX. 4^
II. Privatim institutiones linguae Hebraicae grammaticas
tradet d. Merc, et Sat. h. II-III.
n. ORDINIS lURIDICI.
1. Professorum ordinariorum.
F. A. BIENER, Dr.
Privatim 1) Encyclopaediam iuris positivi duce Schmalzio
quinquies per hebd. hor. XI-XII. 2) Ius criminale duce
Feuerbachio quinquies p. hebd. h. XII-I. proponet.
A. BETHMANN-HOLLWEG, Dr.
I. Publice de processu concursus creditorum die Sat. hor.
XI-XII. disseret.
II. Privatim 1) Institutiones iuris Romani quater per hebd.
hor. IX-X. et X-XI. 2) Processum eivilem quinquies p.
hebd. hor. XI-XII. expUcabit. -i i i-
C. G. DE LANCIZOLLE, Dr.
I. Publice constitutionem imperii Romano-Germanici die Ve-
ner. h. I-II. exponet.
II. Privatim 1) Historiam imperii et iuris Germanici sexies
p. hebd. hor. VHI-IX. 2) Ius publicam Germaniae quin
quies p. hebd. h. XII-I. docebit.
F. C. DE SAVIGNY, Dr.
Privatim ius Pandectarum hor. IX-X. et X-XI. tradet.
TH. SCHMALZ, Dr.
I. Privatim 1) Ius Germanicum.privatum quinquies p. hebd.
h. XI-XII. 2) Ius naturae quater p. hebd. h.- XII-I. 3j
Ius publicum Germaniae sexies p. hebd. h. V-VI, 4) Dis-
ciplinas camerales h. IV-V. docebit, libris suis usurus.
II. Privatissime offert lectiones in processum civilcm cum
practicis exercitationibus coniunctas.
M. SPRICKMANN, Dr.
Privatim ms feudale quinquies p. hebd. IH-IV. duce Paetzio
tradet.

E. G. Lib. Bar. a REIBNITZ, Dr. prof. hon.
I. Publice ius feudale horis adhuc indicandis secundum librum
suum tradet.
II. Privatim processum Borussicum civilem expUcabit ac cum
processu communi Germanico et Gallico comparabit, prac-
ticasque exercitationes instituet, dieb. Mart. Iqv. Sat. h.
IV-VI.

2. Professorum extraordinariorum.
C. G. HOMEYER, Dr.
I- Publice de iure rusticorum disseret die Sat. h. VIII-IX.

440 APPENDIX.
II. Privatim 1) Ius Germanicum privatum quinquies p.
hebd. h. VIII-IX. 2) Ius feudale quater p. hebd. h. IV-V.
docebit.
C. A. C. KLENZE, Dr.
I. Publice Ciceronis libros de republica interpretabitur bis p.
hebd. h. VIII-IX.
II. Privatim 1) Gaio duce institutiones iuris Romani tradet
sexies p. hebd. h. XII-I. 2) Historiam populi Romani
usque ad lustinianum quater p. hebd. h. VIU-IX. docebit,
iuris potissimum historiam spectaturus.
3. Privatim docentium.
F. G. E. BACKE, Dr.
Privatim institutiones iuris Romani docebit quotidie hor.
IX-X. et dieb» Merc, et Sat. h. X-XI.
E. A. LASPEYRES, Dr.
Privatim 1) Ius canonicum duce G. L. Bohmer quinquies p.
hebd. h. XI-XII. 2) Ius feudale duce Paetzio quater p.
hebd. h. X-XI. expUcabit.
C. G. G. M. ROSSBERGER, Dr.
1. Privatim 1) Ius PandectarumAnee Mackeldey quinquies p.
hebd. hor. IX-X. et X-XI. 2)Ius hereditarium duce Mack
eldey quarter p. hebd. h. VIlI— IX. 3) Ius canonicum ad
Schmalzii compendium quarter p. hebd. h. III-IV. tradet.
II. Privatissime offert examinatoria et repetitoria tum de
universe iure tum de singulis partibus.
A. A. F. RUDORFF, Dr.
1. Gratis Ulpiani fragmenta interpretabitur hora adhuc indi-
canda.
II. Privatim ius hereditarium quinquies p. hebd. h. VHI-IX.
exponet.
C. I. L. STELTZER, Dr.
Privatim 1) Ius hereditarium duce Mackeldey quinquies p.
hebd. h. VIII-IX. 2) Ius canonicum duce Wiese sexies p.
hebd. h. III-IV. 3) Ius criminale secundum Feuerbachu
librum horis adhuc indicandis sexies p. hebd. docebit.
III. ORDINIS aiEDICI.
1. Professorum ordinariorum.
C. A, G. BERENDS, Dr.
i. Publico Hippocratis aphorismos d. Sat. h. X-XI. Latino
sermone illustrare purget.
II. Privatim 1) Therapiam febrium specialem quinquies p.
hebd. hor. X-XI. docebit. 2) Ad clinicen medicam in no-
socomio regie in medicinae studiosorum gratiam condito h.
XI-I. auditores quotidie instituet.

APPENDIX. 441
C. F. GRAEFE, Dr.
Privatim 1) Aciurgiam sive cursum omnium operationum
chirurgicarum hor. HI-I-V. dieb. Lun. Mart. lov. Ven. tra
det. ^ 2) Clinicen chirurgicam et ophthalmiatricam in noso-
comio regio chirurgico h. II-III. more consueto moderari
purget. .
L HORKEL, Dr.
I. Publice de monstris disseret diebus Lun. et Mart. h. XII-I.
II. Privatim physiologiam generalem dieb. reliquis ead. hora
docebit.
K HORN, Dr.
I. Publice de cognoscendis et curandis morhis syphiliticis
dieb. Merc, et Sat. h. VIII-IX. disseret.
II. Privatim therapiam specialem dieb Lun. Mart. lov. Ven.
h. VIII-IX. tradet.
C. W. HUFELAND, Dr.
PubUce 1) Therapiam generalem s. institutionum practicarum
partem secundam tradet h. XII-I. d. Lun. Mart. Ven. 2)
Exercitationes clinicas medicas chirurgicas in instituto
regio poUcUnico una cum Osanno et Bussio h. I-II. quotidie
regere perget.
C. KNAPE, Dr.
I. Publice Syndesmo logiam d. lov. et Vener. h. X-XI. offert.
II. Privatim 1) Osteologiam dieb. Lun. Mart. lov. Ven. hor.
XII-I. 2) Splanchnologiam iisdem dieb. hor. IV-V. 3)
Anthropologiam s. medicinamforensem d. Lun. Mart. Merc.
h. vespert VI- VII. docebit. 4) Exercitationes anatomicas
senis p. hebd. dieb. una cum Rudolphio moderabitur.
H. F. LINK, Dr.
I. Publice de Plantis cryptogamis d. Merc, et Sat. h. XII-I.
disseret.
II. Privatim pharmacologiam sexies p. hebd. h. VIII-IX.
docebit.
C. A. Rudolphi, Dr.
I. Publice anatomiam organorum sensuum et fetus humani d.
Merc, et Sat. h. IX-X. tradet.
II. Privatim 1) Anatomiam corporis humani sexies p. hebd.
h. II-III. 2) Anatomiam pathologicam d. Lun. Mart. lov.
VEN. h. III-IV. docebit. 3) Exercitationes anatomicas
una cum Knapio moderabitur.
L N. RUST, Dr.
I. Publice aciurgiae selecta quaedam capita d. lov. h. XII-II.
proponet et operationes^ chirurgicas perficiendi rationem et
viam in corpore mortuo'rpse demoi^trabit.
II. Privatim 1) Chirurgiam unipersalem et specialem sexies p.
hebd. h. VII- VIII. matut. tradet simulque de morbis syphi
liticis et oculorum disseret. 2) flxeecitationcs clinicas in
instituto cUnico nosocomii Caritatis Chirurgico et ophthal-
miatrico quater per hebdom. h. IX^-Xf moderari perget.
57

442 APPENDIX.
A. E. DE SIEBOLD, Dr.
I. Publice artis obstetriciae partem theoreticam duce compen-
dio suo ed. iv. d. Merc, et Sat. h. VIII-IX. proponet.
II. Privatim 1) lis, qui in machina phantome dicta exerceri
voluerint, non decrit d. Lun. lov. Ven. h. VHI-IX. 2)
Exercitationes clinicas obstetricias in instituto regio obste-
tricio et in poUclinico cum hoc coniuncto quater p. hebd.
h. IV-V. moderabitur.
C. C. WOLFART, Dr.
I. Publice semiotocen nosologicam et therapeuticam sententiis
Hippocraticis illustratam duce compendio suo (Grundziige
der Semiotik etc. Berol. 1817.) d. Lun. et lov. hor. vespert
VI-VII. exponet.
II. Privatim 1) Nosologiam et therapiam specialem ex suis
schedis ad dictata quinquies p. hebd. h. V-VI. docebit. 2)
Ad praxin medicam auditores instituere perget.
2, Professorum extraordinariorum.
I. L. CASPER, Dr.
I. Publice propaedeuticen medicam d. Sat. h. IX-X. docebit.
II. Privatim 1) Formulare exerciiationibus pharmaceuticis
illustratum dieb. Merc. h. V-VI. et d. lov. Ven. Sat. h.
VI-VII. 2) Medicinanfi forensem et politiam medicam d.
Lun. Mart. lov. Ven. h. V-VI. tradet.
I. F. C. HECKER, Dr.
I. Publice Celsi libros de mefZicina interpretabitur bis p. hebd.
II. Privatim 1) Pathotogiam generalem exponet binis p.
hebd. horis. 2) Historiam medicinae recentiorem quater
p. hebd. enarrabit.
F. HUFELAND, Dr.
I. Publice semioticen dieb. Merc, et Sat. h. X-XI. docebit.
II. Privatim 1) Pathologiam dieb. Lun. Mart. lov. Ven. hor.
IV-V. 2) Therapiae Specialis partem alteram sexies p.
hebd. hor. I-II. tradet.
C. JUNGKEN, Dr.
I. Publice de cognoscendis et curanis oculorum merbis quin
quies p. hebd. hor. IV-V. disseret.
II. Privatim Aciurgiam s. cursum omnium operationum chi
rurgicarum quinquies per hebd. h. V-VI. tradet. Demon-
strationes et exercitationes in corpore mortuo seorsim in
sti tuentur.
III. Nee iis deerit, qui in acologia s. doctrina de fasciis et
vinctiiris chirurg/ci.<:, in operationibis ophtalmiatricis atque
in singulis artis medicae et chirurgicae doctrinis priva
tissime institui voluerint.
C. A. F. KLUGE, Dr.
I. Publice elementa artis obstetriciae d. Merc. et. Sat. h.
XI-XII. proponet.

APPENDIX. 443
II. Privatim 1) Artis obstetriciae partem theoreticam et
practicam d. Lun. 2) Doctrinam de ossibus fractis et
luxatis d. Mart. 3) Chirurgiam generalem d. lov. et Ven.
h. X-XII. docebit. 4) Clinicen morborum syphiliticorum
in nosocomio Caritatis d. Merc, et Sat. h. VIII-X. mode
rabitur. Demonstrationes et exercitationes scholis ob-
stertriciis adiungendae binis p. hebd. horis seorsim fient.
F. OSANN, Dr.
I. Publice doctrinam de usu m,edico aquarum mineralium,
Germaniae bis p. hebd. hor. adhuc indicandis tradet.
II. Privatim 1) Materiam Medicam quinquies p. hebd. h.
V-VI. tradet. 3) Exercitationes clinicas in instituto poU
clinico una cum Hufelandio moderari perget.
G. CH. REICH, Dr.
I. Publice de morbis exanthematicis d. Sat. h. I-II. disseret.
IL Privatim 1) Pathologiam specialem h. VHI-IX. sexies
p. hebd. 2) Therapiam generalem quater p. hebd. h. I-II.
offert.
E. L. SCHUBARTH, Dr.
I. Publice pharmacopoeiam Borussicam explicare perget d.
lov. et Sat. h. IX-X.
IL Privatim I ) Chemiam tam universam quam pharmaceuti-
cam duce compendio suo (Berol. 1824. ed. 3.) senis scholis.-
h. VII-VIII. mat. tradet. 3) Enamina chemica et pharma-
ceutica' more solito habere perget dieb. Lun. Mart. Ven. h.
IX-X.
C. H. SCHULTZ, Dr.
I. Publice Plantarum officinalium historiam naturalem et
medicam ter. p. hebd. h. XI-XII.
II. Privatim 1) Physiologiam experimentis illustrandam
sexies per hebdom. hor. XII-I. docebit. 2) Neque iis deerit,
qui de singulis medicinae et scientiae naturalis partibus
interesse disputatoriis voluerint.-
W. WAGNER, Dr.
I. PubUce medicinam forensem h. III-IV. dieb. Lun. Merc.
Ven. docebit. *
II. Privatim materiam medicam quinis p. hebd. horis tradet.
3. JPrivatim docentium.
FR. BAREZ, Dr. ^ r it r,
Privatim medicinam forensem d. Lun. Mart. lov, Ven. h.
V-VI. tradet.
C. E. BOEHR, Dr. .
Gratis consultationes medicas sexies p. hebd. n. vii-ia.
instituet.
TH. G. ECK, Dr. . , -
Privatim 1) Physiologiam generalem et specialem sexies p.

444

APPENDIX.

hebd. hor. VIII-IX. docebit. 2) Doctrinarum medicarum
et chirurgicarum scholas repetitorias offert.
F. FRIEDLANDER, Dr.
Privatim 1) Artis obstetriciae partem theoreticam dieb. Lun.
Merc. Sat. hor. II-III. tradet. 2) De mulierum et infan-
tium morbis d. Mart, et lovis iisd. horis disseret. 3) Clini
cen obstetriciam d. Lun. Merc. lov. Sat. h. III-IV. modera
bitur.
C. OPPERT, Dr.
I. Gratis de cognoscendis et curandis morbis syphiliticis d.
Mart, et Ven. hor. IX-X. disseret.
II. Privatim therapiam generalem d. Lun. Merc. Sat. iisdem
horis tradet.
I. D. RECKLEBEN, Dr.
Privatim 1) Artem veterinariam in usum rei oeconomicae
studiosorum d. Lun. Merc. Sat. hor. III-IV. docebit. 2)
Morbos animalium domesticorum contagiosos et epizooticos
et medicinam veterinariam forensem ternis p. hebd. horis
exponet.
F. SCHLEMM, Dr.
Privatim anatomiae universalis corporis humani sani repeti-
tiones d, Lun. Mart. lov. Ven. h. III-IV. instituet.
IV. ORDINIS PHILOSOPHICI.
1. Professorum ordinariorum.
I. BEKKER, Dr.
I. Publice Thucydidem enarrare perget d. Lun. Merc. Ven.
hor. XII-I.
II. Privatissime elementa linguae Graecae tradet.
A. BOECKH, Dr.
Privatim 1) Antiquitates Cfraecas et maxime politicam Grae-
corum doctrinam una cum iure Attico explicabit qmnquies
p. hebd. hor. XI-XII. 2) Sophoclis Antigonam et Oedipum
Coloneum interpretabitur quater p. hebd. h. X-XI.
F. BOPP, Dr.
Ex itinere redux lectiones indicabit.
E. H. DIRKSEN, Dr.
I. Publice de calculi integralis applicatione ad geometriam
semel per hebd. hor. IV-V. disseret.
II. Privatim 1) Calculum differentialem ter per hebd. hor.
IV-V. 2) Astronomiam sphaericam ter p. hebd. h. V-VI.
docebit. 3) In dynamice explicanda perget ter per hebd.
h. III-IV. 4) Staticen analyticam tradet ter p. hebd.
P. ERMAN, Dr.
Privatim 1) Physicen universalem ter p. hebd. d. Lim. Merc.

APPENDIX. 445
Ven. h. H-III. docebit. 2) De magnetismo et electricitate
ter p. hebd. d. Mart. lov. Ven. h. X-XI. aget.
F. H. V. D. HAGEN, Dr.
I. Publice docebit mythologiam veterum Germanorum reliquo-
rumque septentrionalium populorum binis dieb. h. IV-V.
II. Privatim 1) Historiam litterariam medii et recentioris
ffleui enarrabit quater per hebd. h. IV-V. 2) Interpretabitur
po'ema equestre Gotfridi Argentoratensis : Tristan et Isolt,
secumdum editionem suam novissimam {Gottfrieds von
Strassburg Werke, Vratisl. 1833.) quater p. hebd. h. V-VI.
G. W. F. HEGEL, Dr.
Privatim 1) Historium philosophide enarrabit quinis p. hebd.
scholis h. XII-I. 2) Philosophiam naturae sive physicen
rationalem duce libro suo {Encyclopaedie der philosophi-
schen Wissenschaften II. P.) quater p. hebd. hor. V-VI.
dieb. Lun. Mart. lov. Ven. docebit.
S. F. HERMBSTEADT, Dr.
I. Publice introductionem in chemiam theoreticam medicinae et
pharmaciae applicatam dare perget dieb. Merc, et lov. hor.
XI-XII.
II Privatim 1) Chemiam universam secundum experientiam
et observationes recentissimas ad. compend. suum {Grundli-
nien d. theor. u. experiment. Chemie) et Berzelii {Lehrbuch
d. Chemie) dieb. Lun. Mart. Merc. lov. Ven. hor. vespert.
V-VI. docebit et experimentis illustrabit. 2) Chemiam
agronomicam opificiis oeconomicis et saltuar. applicatam
duce libro suo {Grundsdtze der Kameralchemie) dieb. Lun.
Mart. Merc. lov. Ven. hor. matut. VIII-IX. explicabit et
experimentis illustrabit. 3) Physicen experimentalem dieb.
Lun. Mart. Merc. lov. Ven. h. IX-X. offert.
A. HIRT, Dr.
I. Publice theoram architecturae ad principia veterum bis p.
hebd. dieb. Lun. et Ven. h. XII-I.
II. Privatim historiam artium medii aevi horis indicandis
docebit.
I. G, HOFFMAN, Dr.
I. Publice arithmetices politicae elementa d. Merc, et Sat. h.
VIII-IX. docebit. . . '
II. Privatim 1) Redituum publicorum rationem et administra-
tionem A. Lun. Mart. lov. Ven. h. VIII-IX* expUcabit. 2)
Statisticam regni Borussici nsdem diebus hor. IX-X. tradet.
L. IDELER, Dr. .77-
Privatim 1) Sectiones conicas una cum primis dementis calculi
infinitesimalis quinquies p. hebd. hor. XI-XII. tradet. 3)
Exercitationes in calculum litteralem, logarithmos, cequa-
tiones primi et secundi ordiuis et trigonometriam planum
habebit quinis p. hebd. dieb. h. XII-I.

446 APPENDIX.
M. H. C. LICHTENSTEIN, Dr.
I. Publice historiam naturalem ruminantium dieb. Merc, et
Ven. h. VI-VII.
II. Privatim zoologiam universam sexies p. hebd. h. I-II.
tradet.
E. MITSCHERLICH, Dr.
I. PubUce introductionem in chemiam experimentalem d. Sat.
h. XI-XII. tradet.
II. Privatim chemiam experimentalem, Berzelio Duce {Lehr
buch der Cheniie, 3te Aufl. Dresden, 1815.) h. XI-XH. d.
Lun. Mart. Merc. lov. Ven. explicabit et experimentis illus
trabit.
I. OLTMANNS, Dr.
I. Publice aget de longitudinis et latitudinis geographieae
determinatione ex observationibus caelestibus semel p. hebd.
II. Privatim docebit 1) Geometriam practicam h\n\s -p. tiehA.
diebus. 2) Geographiam mathematicam binis p. hebd. diebus.
F. DE RAUMER, Dr.
I. Publice tradet historiam turbarum, ex quibus res novas in
civitatibus natae sunt, potissimarum A. Merc. h. XII-I.
II. Privatim 1) Ius publicum et politicam cum historia constitu-
tionum et administrationis civitatum praecipuarum coniunc
tas quater p. hebd. h. XI-XH. 2)Historiam recentioris aevi,
imprimis saeculi XVIII. quater p.hebd. h. XII-I. expUcabit
C. RITTER, Dr.
I. Publice historiam geographiae et itinerum tradet d. Merc.
h. XII-I.
II. Privatim geographiam universalem qiunquies p. hebd. h.
V-VI. docebit.
E. H. TOELKEN, Dr.
I. Publice de pictura veterum disseret d. Merc. h. XII-I,
II. Privatim docebit 1) Aestheticen quater hor. IV-V. 2)
Historiam architecturae antiquae usque ad tempora lustini-
ani quator hor. V-VI.
C, S. WEISS, Dr.
Privatim 1) Mineralogiam docebit senis p. hebd. dieb. h.
XII-I. 2) Crystallonomiam dieb. Lun. Mart. lov. Ven. hor.
X-XI. 3) Soli cognitionem tradet quantum ad rem saltua-
riam {Bodenkvnde fiir den Forstmann), eiusque partem
posteriorem d. Merc, et Sat. hor. X-XI.
F. WILKEN, Dr.
Ex itinere redux lectiones indicabit.
2. Professorum extraordinariorum.
G. BERNHARDY, Dr.
I. Publice Quintiliani de I. O. librum X. explicabit bis p.
hebd. h. XI-XII. dieb. Mart, et lov.
II. Privatim 1) Graecae linguae syntaxin qua ternis schoUs

APPENDIX. 447
exponet h. III-IV. 2) Aristophanas Ranas et Nubes quater
vel quinquies p. hebd. h. IV-V. interpretabitur.
Idem exercitationes privatissimas offert.
E. G. FISCHER, Dr.
Privatim priorem physices mechanicae partem dieb. Merc, et
Sat. hor. III-V. tradet.
I. P. GRUSON, Dr.
Privatim 1) Trigonometriam analyticam planamet sphaericam,
adiuncta praxi, quater p. hebd. dieb. Lun. Mart. lov. Ven.
hor. IV-V. 2) Sectiones conicas, geometrice atque algebraice
tractandas, quater, p. hebd. iisdem dieb. h. V-VI. docebit.
F. G. HAYNE, Dr.
Fiivatim physiologiam vegetabilium, praecipue arborum fruti-
cumque, cum terminologia coniunctam tradet d. Lun. Mart.
Ven. h. XI-XII.
Lab HENNING, Dr.
1. Publice 1) Propaedeuticen philosophicam sen introduc
tionem in studium philosophiae speculativae dieb. Lun. et
lov. hor. XII-I. tradet. 2) Scholas aliquot de iuris diversis
rationibus et fontibus lectionibus privatis de iure naturae
praemittet.
II. Privatim 1) Logicen et metapysicen quinquies p. hebd. h.
IV-V. 8 Ius naturae s. philosophiam iuris, Hegellii librum :
Grundlinien der Philosophie des Rechts, secuturus, quinquies
p. hebd. h. XI-XII. exponet.
F. KLUG, Dr.
Publice entomologiam bis. p. hebd. docebit.
C. LACHMANN, Dr.
I. Publice disputationes de argumentis philologicis institutendas
reget binis diebus hora constituenda.
II. Privatim 1) Po'ema Theotiscum, der Nibelungen Lied,
interpretabitur ex editionis suae exemplaribus, quinis dieb.
hor. IV-V. 3) Horatii epistolas cum arte poetica explicabit
quaternis diebus h. V-VI.
M. OHM, Dr.
I. Publice geometriam Euclideam docebit d. Ven. h. II-III.
II. Privatim 1) Mathesin puram elementarem ter p. hebd.
h. III-II. 3) Geometriae superioris elementa, in specie vero
theoriam, sectionum conicarum, ter p. hebd. h. I-II. 3) Cal
culum differentialem ter p.hehA.h.I-ll. 4) Trigonometriam
(planam et sphaericam) et steoremetriam dieb. Merc, et Sat.
hor. II-IV. tradet.
G. PFEIL, Dr.
I. Privatim 1) Encyclopaediam saltuariam quater p. hebd. hor.
VIII-IX. dieb. Lun. Mart. lov. Ven. docebit. 3) Oeco-
nomiam saltuariam et aestimationem silvarum ter p. hebd.
Lun. Mart. lov. h. IX-X. expUcabit. 3) De rei saltuariae
scientia ad oeconiam politicam applicata et de silvarum ad-

448 APPENDIX.
ministratione ter p. hebd. dieb. Merc. lov. Sat. hor. VIII-IX.
disseret.
II. Privatissime examinatoria et repetitoria de universa scien
tia saltuaria offert senis horis p. hebd;
L. RANKE, Dr.
I. Publice exercitationes historicas moderabitur semel p. hebd.
IL Privatim historiae universalis partem priorem a rerum
primordiis usque ad gentis Hohenstaufenae excessum tradet
quaternis scholis hor. III-IV.
H. RITTER, Dr.
I. Publice doctrinam de anima rationali tradet bis p. hebd.
hor. VI-VII, vesp. dieb. Merc, et lov.
II. Privatim logicen duce compendio suo docebit qiunquies p.
hebd. hor. VIII-IX.
H ROSE, Dr.
I. Publice chemiam praeparatorum pharmaceuticorum anor-
ganicorum A. Sat. h. IX-X.
II. Privatim 1) Chemiam orgnicam, praecipue ratione phar
maciae habita, dieb. Lun. Mart. Merc. h. I— H. 3) Chemiam
analyticam practicam dieb. lov. et Ven. h. XII-H. docebit.
F. G. V. SCHMIDT, Dr.
Publice Calderonis tragoediam el Magico prodigioso ex Cyg-
neensi editione interpretabitur, et origines linguarum, quae
ex Latino sermone deductae sunt, explicabit dieb. Merc, et
Sat. hor. XI-XII.
Lectiones privatim habendas tempestive indicabit.
C. D. TURTE, Dr.
Privatim 1) Physicen experimentalem quaternis p. hebd. h.
dieb. Mart, et lov. h. III-V. explicabit. 3) Artis saltuariae
elementa physica experimentis illustrabit ternis. p. hebd.
horis die Mart. hor.X-XI. etdie lo^ris hor. X-XII.
A. ZEUNE, Dr.
Privatim lectiones de lingua Gothica duce libro suo {Go-
thische Sprachformen und Sprachproben, Berl. 1825. 4.) d.
Merc, et Sat. hor. IV-V. habebit.

TH. RADLOF, Dr.
Gratis 1) Historiam Germanorum vetustissimi aevi eorumque
linguae quater p. hebd. 2) Notitiam linguarum popu-
lorumque universalem bis p. hebd. ex schedis suis tradet.

3. Academiae regiae scientiarum sodalium.
G. UHDEN, Dr.
Publice Daniis Aligherii, poetae Florentini, Comoediam
divinam illustrabit d. Merc. et. Sat. hor. XII-I.
4. Privatim docentium.
G. L. BLUM, Dr.

APPENDIX. 349
I. Gratis de historiae Romanae origine et progressu disseret
d. Merc. h. XI.-XII.
II. Trivatim historiam antiquum quat. p. hebd. diebi h. III-IV.
tradet.
E. G. HENGSTENBERG, Dr.
I. Gratis institutiones linguae Chaldaicae tradet bis. p. hebd.
h. IV-V.
II. Privatissime Haririi consessus expUcabit bis p- hebd. h.
IV-V.
C. G. I. lACOBI, Dr.
Publice docebit applicationem analysis superioris ad theoriam
generalem superficierum et linearum dupllcitur curvarum
una cum theoria speciali superficierum secundi gradus. A.
Lun. Mart. lov. Ven. h. IX-IX.
H. DE KEYSERLINGK, Dr.
I. Gratis exponet logicien et dialecticen quater p. hebd. h.
XI-XII.
H. Privatim 1) Fichtii librum, der geschlosenne Handels-
staat, ter p. hebd. h. II-III. critice examinabit. , 2) Psy-
chologiam quinquies p. hebd. h. X-XI. tractabit.
E. LANGE, Dr.
I. Gratis Homeri Uiadis libros XX-XXIV. quater p. hebd.
hor. II-III. interpretabitur.
II. Privatim Orationes Lycurgi contra Leocratem et Demos-
thenis Midianam quater p. hebd. hor. III-IV. exponet.
H. LEO, Dr.
I. Publice historiam Italiae enarrabit a conditio Longobar-
dorum regno ad novissima usqUe tempora, quater p. hebd.
II. Privatim tradet 1) Historiam Germanicam quater p. hebd.
hor. IV-V. adhibito compendio Eichhorniano {Deutsche
Staats-undRechtsgeschichte.) 3) Historiam antiquam ex-
ponet duce Heerenio (Ilandbuch der Geschichte der Staaten
des Alterthums) quater p. hebd. h. VI-VII.
S. F. LUBBE, M.
Privatissime theoriam superficierum curvarum docebit.
G. ROSE, Dr.
Privatim Mineralogiam docebit dieb. Lun. Merc. Sat. hor.
X-XI. et die lovis h. IX-X.
C. G. D. STEIN, Dr.
Privatim statisticam civitatum Germaniae dieb. Merc, et Sat.
hor. XII-II. tradet.
P. F. STUHR, Dr.
I. Gratis respublicae quibus modis constituantur, docebit.
II. Privatim historiam generalum dogmatum populorum eth-
nicorum de diis et heroibus tradet quater p. hebd. hor. IV-V.

58

260 APPENDIX.
RECENIORUM LINGUARUM DOCTRINA
ARTIUMQUE EXERCITATIO.
0. F. FRANCESON, Lect.
I. Gratis in Ariosto expUcando perget bis hebd. horis in-
cicandis.
II. Privatim cursum, lingude Francogallicae instituet, quo et
grammaticam docebit secundum editionem novissimam libri
sui, Neue Franzbsische Sprachlehre, et historiam litterarum
apud Francogallos sermone Gallico enarrabit exemplisque
e scriptoribus sumptis illustrabit, ter p. hebd. h. IV-V.
C. A. E. DE SEYMOUR, Dr. Lect.
Gratis Shakspedrium explicare et de pronunciatione Anglica
disseret bis p. hebd. hora indicanda.
Idem linguae Anglicae scholas offert.
L. HELL WIG
Gratis artem canendi quater per hebd. docebit.
Arma tractandi et in equum insiliendi artem docebit FELMY.
Equitandi modes discere cupientibus copiam faciei hippodromus

PUBLICA DOCTRINAE SUBSIDIA.
Bibliotheca regia iis, qui libros in quo vis gen ere optimos evol-
vere voluerint, quotidie patebit.
Observatorium, hortus botanicus, museum anatomicum, zooto-
micum, zoologicum, mineralogicum, instrumenta chirur
gico, imagines gypsae variaque artium opera, etc. tum in
lectionum usum adhibebuntur, tum aditus ad haec dabitur
suo loco petentibus.
Seminarii theologici execitationes exegeticas moderabuntur
BLEEK et BOHMER; historicis, hoc est ad historiam
ecclesiae et dogmatum Christianorum pertinentibus, praeer-
unt MARHEINECKE et NEANDER.
In Seminario philologico Euripidis Iphigeniam in Aulide
sodalibus interpretandam proponet BOECKH dieb. Merc.
et Saturni hor. X-XI. ceterisque Seminarii exercitationibus
more solito praeerit. Eosdem in luvenalis Satiris inter-
pretandis exercebit P. BUTTMANN, Dr, Arcad. reg. sod.,
d. Merc, et Sat. h. IX-X.

INDEX.

LETTER I.
Strasburg Cathedral, 1 — University, 5.
LETTER IL
Departure from Strasburg, 7 — Mayence, 8 — ^Navigation of the Rhine, 9 
The city, 11— Ruins, 12— Saxon Architecture, 13— Travellers, ib.— Soil on
the Rhine,14— Hatto's Tower, 15— Feudal Scenery, 16— Tomb of Marceau, 18
—University of Bonn, 19— Cologne, 20— Churches, 21— Cathedral, 22 —
Church of Saint Peter, ib. LETTER III.
Austrian Corporal, 25 — ^Temperance of the Europeans, 26 — Frankfort, 28
— German Alliance, 29 — De|farturc from Frankfort, 37 — Cassel and Wil
helmshohe, 40. ,, , -
LETTER IV.
Gottingen, 43 — Students, 45 — Smoking, 46 — Landsmannschaften, 48 —
Duelling, 49 — University, 57 — Miinchhausen, 58— Facullier, 59 — Profes
sors, 60 — Lectures, ib. — Manner of Lecturing, 64— Teachers, 66 — Library, 68
Libraries of Germany, 75.
LETTER V.
Literary Festival, 81 — ^Longevity of the German Professors, 82 — Blnraen-
bach, 84 — Eichhorn, 85 — ^Literary Tradition, 88 — Funeral of a Student, 89 —
Supervisors, 90 — Wartburg Festival, 91 — Murder of Kotzebue, 93— Condem
nation of the Students, 95 — Nobility, 96 — Protestant Converts, 100 — Govern
ment of Hanover, 101 — Revenue of Hanover, 102.
LETTER VI.
Departure from Gottingen, - '104 — Kissing, 105 — Harz Mountains, 108 —
Public Conveyances, 109 — Magdeburg, 111.
LETTER VII.
" Berlin, 114— Thiirgarten, 116— Prussian Idolaters of Royalty, 117— Con
trast between an Italian and a Protestant Metropolis, 118— The Inhabi
tants, 119— Nobility, 121— Titles, 125— Customs, 127— Prussian Officer, 129
— Jews, 131 — Topics of Conversation, 132.

453 index.
LETTER VIII.
The King, 134— Princess of Leignitz, 139— Duke #f Wellington, 140—
German Music, 142.
LETTER IX.
Potsdam, 147 — Political Importance of Prussia, 152 — Royal Guard, 155i —
Prussian Army, 157 — Landwehr, 158.
LETTER X.
German Eloquence, 162 — German Translations of Shaltspeare, 168 —
Admiration of Shakspeare, 171.
LETTER XI.
University of Berlin, 174 — Exegesis, 176 — Rivalry of the Professors, 178 — ."
Their Intense Application, 181 — Poverty of American Libraries, 183 — Ob- ,
Etacles to the Establishment of Universities in the United States, 188 — ^t/fi/l-y'--
Tutors, 190. , •¦ . • ¦ •
LETTER XII.
The Students, 193 — Quarrels of the German Students with the Police, 195
Scepticism of the Students, 198 — Inefficiency of the Government of the Uni
versities, 200 — List of the Universities of Germany, 204 — Medical Faculty, .
206— Legal Faculty, 207 — Courts of Prussia, 209 — Capital Punishments, 214 *, ¦"
— Government of Prussia, 215 — ^Landstande, 216.
LETTER XIII.
Climate of Berlin, 218 — Climate of Europe compared with that of the
United States, 219 — German Beds, 224 — Mortality of Berlin, 226 — Diseases
prevalent in the Metropolis, 227 — Births and Deaths of Prussia compared
with those of France, 2.28— The Sabbath, 229— MortaUty of Berhn, 230.
LETTER XIV.
Union of Germany, 233 — Obstacles, 236 — Metternich, 239.
LETTER XV.
Common Schools, 253 — 243 — Comparative Education of the People in
Protestant and Catholic Countries, 244 — Seminaries for the Education of
Schoolmasters, 247 — Importance of introducing them jnto the United States.
LETTER XVI.
Departure from Berlin, 255 — Carousals of the Burschen, 256 — Burschen ^ ^ '5
Song^, 257— Wittenberg, 259— Luther and Melanchthon, 260 — Professor ^ -^ *
Haubner, 263 — Professor Schleusner, 265.
LETTER XVII.
HaUe University, 267— The City, 268— Professor Gesenius, 269— Castle of
Ludwig der Springer, 273— Royal MonopoUes, 274— The Chase, 275—
Orphan Asylum, 277. LETTER XVIII.
Sects, 281— Mennonites, 282— Catholics, 284— Reformed Church, 284—
Lutheran Church, 286— Union of the Reformed and Lutheran Churches, 304—
Opposition to the Liturgy, 305 — Religious Estabhshinents, 308.

index 453
LETTER XIX.
Roads of Europe, 310 — Silesian Merciiant, 311 — Exclamations and Saluta
tions, 312— Fairs, 313 — The City, 315 — Monument of Poniatowski, 317 —
European ignorance of America, 318 — Government of the German Cities, 319
— Seiiools of Leipzig, 320 — Pronunciation of Saxony, 322 — Amusements, and
Female Industry, 324 — European Curiosity, 327 — Auerbach's Cellar, 328 —
Battle of Leipzig, 329— Fertility of the German Press, 332 — University., 335 —
Professor Hermann, 337 — Saxony the Battle Gromid of Germany, 339 —
Division of Saxony, 341 — Freedpm of Saxony, 343^Restriction of the
Press, 344.
LETTER XX.
Dresden, 348 — Italian and German Sky and Atmosphere, 349 — Monument
of Moreau, 353 — Riistkammer, 354 — Griine Gawolbe, 355 — The King, 356
¦ — Religious Controversy, 358 — Library of Dresden, 359 — Tieck, 361 —
Tiedge, 364 — Sympathy for the Greeks, 365.
LETTER XXI.
GaUeries of Europe, 367 — Gallery of Dresden, 369 — Saxon Switzerland,
372— Bastey, 374— KiihstaU, 375 — Crazy? Saxon, 377— Brebische Thor, 377—
Old Soldier, 378 — Fortress of Konigstein 380 — Lunatic Asylum of f irna, 381.
^. LETTER XXII.
v^. Gymnasia of Germany, 383.
**^ LETTER XXIII.
State of Religion in Northern Germany after the Reformation, 395 —
Influence of Spener, 396 — Franke, 398 — Ronsdorfian Sect, 401 — Influence of
Frederick the Great, 402 — Kant's PhUosophy, 403 — Fichte's Philosophy, 405 —
Philosophy of Jacobi 'and Schelling, 406 — Influence of these Systems, 407 —
Study of Criticism, 408 — Scepticism of the Clergy, 411 — Rationalists aod
Supernaturalists, 412 — Causes of the Decrease of Scepticism at the preseat
Time, 413 — ^Effects of Royal Patronage, 418— Theological Professors, 419—
Creeds of the Neologists, 420— Creeds of the Orthodox, 421 — Character of the
Orthodox, 423 — Style of Preaching, 424.
]^ LETTER XXIV.
''•;-. Departure from Leipzig, 426 — Battle-ground of Lutzen, 427— Weimar,
428— Charles Augustus, 429— Goethe, 430.

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