hand of the visited person. The Inspector must be shown the notes immediately before leaving and after arriving, that he may know the whereabouts of his subjects, without inquiring any more after the expediency of the permission itself, and ascertain whether the statements of time agree, so that nothing besides the intended visit might have occurred. To be sure, it is hard for a prince or any gentleman of nearly twenty years, to say nothing about the difficulties in the college, to draw out of his pocket a little note and to present it to a gentleman or lady for testifying to his visit and his probity. We confess it is hard. But he who knows the weight of responsibility, does not ask how hard but how necessary it is. The inspectors have an easy work in the Fürstenschulen, which are almost without connection with the small towns, as they never allow any one to leave the college; but in Dresden, where most Blochmann students have either parents or relatives or friends, it is impossible to prevent visiting at least on Sundays, and if allowed, the responsible teachers or friends will gladly submit to the unavoidable arrangement. To infringe this law is scarcely practicable on the part of the students, as the names of all that pass the door are written down by the porter, to be compared with the names of those who went out with the permission of the ruling day-inspector. The history of the cloister-school reports some would-be heroic exploits of such as let themselves down the walls with aid of a rope, to spend an evening in a tea or wine party; but these cases have been, of course, rare, and unallowed exits; may have been even rarer in the Vizthum gymnasium, where the intercourse with the city is made easier. It is, from the special tutors, who have in the little community entrusted to them the right to bind and to loose as far as they think best, that trustworthy students of the higher classes get a dispensation of the above law in particular cases; but the highest disciplinary law, which makes as few exceptions as possible, in order that the rule should appear, not as a kind of moral censure and tyranny, but as the natural precept of general necessity and expediency, is sufficiently respected. Besides the three or four study hours, under the superintendence of the two inspectors, which are considered sufficient for the necessary preparation and repetition, the students are bound to be in the garden, walking, running, playing, or exercising in some way. It is in this free time, also, that lessons on the piano, in singing, gymnastics, fencing, dancing, and riding, are given. Only the last hour of the evening is allowed to the older students for studying in their rooms. In this respect, the Vizthum gymnasium takes the extreme view, and, for aught we know, the practice of studying in the room, adopted by the other colleges, seems to be generally preferable to that of studying in full classes. But it is the authority of

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Discipline in the Gymnasium.

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the older students, on which the practicability and the success of studying in common rooms, without the inspection of quite as many tutors, chiefly depends, and the character of the institution as well as the demand of rational supervision, seem to have been the causes of an arrangement not sufficiently comfortable to make studying the great pleasure of life, as one might experience in the common rooms of the Fürstenschool, or in the private chambers of students in city gymnasia. There is a conference of the twelve chief teachers on Saturdays, the Director being Chairman and the youngest professor Secretary, in which the great events of the week are spoken of and disciplinary measures taken. The private teachers have no access but in cases where they are particularly concerned. Every professor has the right of punishing, and the private teachers may apply for it to the inspector. To make use of that painful right, the teacher as such is but rarely forced, oftener in the quality of inspector, and it will be understood, almost never as special tutor. Corporeal punishment is forbidden. The common penalty is deprivation of one of the meals; the highest is imprisonment. It happens in the Blochmann institution, that to malefactors of inveterate habits flogging is applied, but only to those of the two preparatory classes, and by decree of the conference, and in presence of the Directors. In the common gymnasia, where professors and students meet with each other only in the recitation rooms, there is less chance of transgressing laws, the law of the classroom being but one, and that every moment impressed upon the mind of the would-be-transgressor by the presence of the law-giver and judge, but habitual indolence and laziness will meet with something more than a sermon on diligence, which would be like casting a brilliant pearl before a swine; a few involuntary study-hours for making a Latin ode appeals better and more successfully to the stubborn heart. It is never too late to mend; hence expulsion from the college is and ought to be a rare case, and such a victim has usually gone, before, through the dark hole called carcer, which is known to ninety-nine per cent. of the gymnasiasts more by name than by sight. There is, generally speaking, in the German gymnasia, a striet discipline, without any Spartan severity and without Basedow's philanthropical sweetness. Of course, there have been a great many students who never, in their college life, heard a harsh word nor saw a stern look; but others, who are not well prepared, or are inattentive, or noisy, or have written their compositions carelessly, or committed a misdemeanor that comes to the ears of the professors, are generally dealt with in good, plain German, and "without gloves," and a repetition may lead, by a long gradation, or rather degradation, to the hole. In the common gymnasia, the professors do not interfere

with the private life of the students, unless some charge is brought against them by a citizen, and some of the gymnasiasts enjoy their lives pretty well in their way, quite in contrast with some fellow-students who work hard through half the night, and in contrast also with all the boarding students in Meissen, Grimma and Dresden.

We have mentioned already, that the proper gymnasium comprises four classes, usually with six or eight divisions, and have now to speak of the course preparatory to the reception into the Quarta or fourth class. As to what is required from the little candidate, we might expect perhaps high and full sounding phrases, requiring a thorough knowledge of the Greek and later grammars, just as if a boy were expected to know more when he enters than when he leaves; but, in fact, the claims made upon a new comer are pretty low. A young man that has, besides the common education acquired in the course of six years in all schools, a thorough acquaintance with the declensions and conjugations, and a superficial one with the small number of chief rules of the Latin grammar, some experience in translating easy sentences and some friendly relation to Movoa and runτw, no doubt will succeed in the examination. But where do they acquire that? Either in a fifth class with two divisions in some gymnasia, or in a progymnasium in others, where a boy may enter without any examination. For such colleges, as have no preparatory, classes, boys are prepared in the languages, either in a city-school, where the Latin is taught by one of the teachers in public or private lessons, or, in the country, by a tutor or by the clergyman of the parish. Yet the best of the private teachers do not limit their ambition to getting their pupils into the ranks of the great populace of new-comers, but lower Tertia, or at least Upper Quarta, are the classes to satisfy them, although a clergyman who has successfully prepared his son for the lower Quarta of a Fürstenschool, may feel sufficiently rewarded for his pains. Candidates for higher classes come only from other gymnasia, and are shown their place without much regard to their standing in the school they left, but according to the result of the examination.

The time of a gymnasium life varies with the progress of the student in literary acquirements. There are generally semi-annual transfers from one division to the other, and in very rare cases it might happen that an excellent student would finish his course in four years, remaining in each division but half a year, and on the other hand, a first

1 Hegel attended in the fifth year of his age a Latin school in Stuttgard. When seven years old, he went into the gymnasium. But that college had seven classes, and Hegel was eighteen years old when he graduated (1788).

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Course of Studies.

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rate idler might stay as long as eight years. Hence, the average number of college years is six. The student, advancing from one class to another, finds there a remaining stock of students superior to himself, if not in talents, at least in acquaintance with the studies and with the professor of the class. After a three months' study and experience the able student may leap over that boundary and put himself on a level with his older companions; and then he will be transferred with them to the next class. It is easier to do so in the inferior classes (lowergymnasium, IV. and III.), where the order of the students is arranged according to their studies in the class, but in the upper-gymnasium more respect is paid to the time and common order, though some capital scholar will break through, while some sluggard will be left behind. There is, also, a good deal of difference in this respect between the different schools, some having only annual translations, while only a part of the classes are divided; however, the way of advancement is in all the same, except only in the Blochmann gymnasium, where four regular courses of one year and a half each, carry the student in six years through the four undivided classes. This latter arrangement, essentially agreeing with the usage in the American colleges, needs no further explanation, but the common German method of advancing without definite courses is worthy of some consideration.

It seems to me, that this question has both a literary and a moral aspect. In respect to the former, the chief objection will be, that thus the instructors themselves are prevented from taking a regular course in teaching the literary branches, or that one part of the students are always subjected to a tiresome repetition. In regard to the other, the objection is that the spirit of emulation is nourished too much, and will be likely to destroy the good fruits of education. The best and only answer to the first objection, as it seems to me, is that the German colleges are essentially classical institutions. Every one will bear in mind, that classic education is a building up, as it were, of atoms moving in the chaos of the human mind in a centrifugal as well as centripetal manner, and that it is not so much the object to construct in it a splendid palace as to make the active mind a comfortable house for noble ideas and sound learning. Leaning upon the literary products of a great mind, the instructor has the freest scope, in dwelling on new ideas, pointing out the new forms of old ones, construing unknown laws of language, and exhibiting those, which are known already, in a new point of view. It will appear thus far, that the supposed disadvantage vanishes or turns out to be an advantage. The teacher may go on in his author where he left off the last term, or commence a new book, nor will the elder students have a repetition, nor the new comers a

task beyond their reach; nor is the teacher's mind allowed to stagnate, the desire of making the same food palatable for somewhat different appetites cannot fail to bring forth a greater variety, and this improves the character of the instruction itself.

if

As to the moral aspect, no answer is likely to satisfy him who does not consider ambition as an honest stimulus to education, nor him who, more indulgent, finds however in the German custom the way paved to the most dangerous emulation. There is a good deal of wisdom in Johnson's defence of the rod, when he says: "I would rather have the rod to be the general terror to all, to make them learn, than tell a child, you do thus or thus, you will be more esteemed than your brothers and sisters. The rod produces an effect, which terminates in itself; a child is afraid of being whipped, and gets his task and there is an end on it; whereas by exciting emulation and comparisons of superiority, you lay the foundation of lasting mischief; you make brothers and sisters hate each other." But with the same right that Johnson in another passage of his conversation, and Goldsmith also, who call fear the only passion to conquer a child's natural laziness, we find the main spring of the education of the young in hope. Take the best student and ask him what it is that animates him so powerfully in his studies, whether love to his parents, or attachment to his teachers, or his interest in the sciences, he will sincerely answer, no; there is some influence from each of these sources, uniting with the general feeling of duty, but it is hope, more or less definite, call it even ambition, which gives life and vitality to my moral existence. He hopes for moral and earthly happiness, to flow from his present exertions, and derives from it a good deal of happiness for his present state. But how is he able to measure his exertions and his accomplishments? Only by comparison with others. If he be behind some of them, shall he not endeavor to equal them? And how can a few instances of perversion of the principle be an offset to so many instances that lead to love, wisdom, and every kind of virtue? To take away the entire influence of ambition from the work of education, is neither wise nor practicable. It inverts the natural order of things, regarding those as angels who are growing daily in flesh and blood, and forgetting that without the encouragement of ambition, an entire science or art may degenerate or fade away. Well; but the ambition must not be too much encouraged. We acquiesce. "The difference is too nice, where ends the virtue and begins the vice." Let us bear in mind, that the pupil is gaining at the same time more and more of moral ground, when he runs the risk of losing it by undue excitement; secondly, that external arrangements of that kind, to which all more or less willingly submit as to an old custom, exhibit much more of the