Chapter 4

From a schedule hanging on the wall, I was shown the names and number of recitations for the day. "What would I like to see? How long can I remain? Will I come again to-morrow?" If the permission to visit a school be often difficult to gain, once received, it covers every recitation, and as many hours or days as the visitor chooses to devote to it. I was first conducted to a recitation in arithmetic. The room contained accommodations for fifty pupils, and the seats were filled by girls about thirteen or fourteen years of age. Wooden desks and seats (the outer row for three pupils each, the central for four each), a slightly raised platform for the teacher, with a plain desk and two chairs, several cases of butterflies and beetles, on the walls a map or two, a small blackboard behind the teacher's desk, in grooves, so that it may be elevated or lowered at pleasure, make up the furniture of the room. The light, as in every room I visited, was from one side, to the left of the pupils. The teacher--a man with gray hair and beard, but young enough as to vivacity and enthusiasm, and a gentleman in manners--bowed me to the chair he offered, and with a wave of the hand bade the children, who had risen on our entrance, be seated. The lesson was wholly oral and mental. Addition, subtraction, and multiplication were carried on by means of numbers, given out with so much vivacity and judgment that every eye was fastened on the teacher and every mind alert. Most of the right hands were raised for answer to every question, with the index finger extended; and the pupil selected was chosen now here, now there, to give it audibly. Rank was observed from left to right, the lower changing places with the higher whenever a failure above and a correct answer below paved the way. Large numbers were often used; for example, adding or subtracting by sixties, and multiplying far beyond twelve times twelve,--all apparently with equal facility. The second half of the hour was devoted to a visit to a class of younger girls. Another arithmetic class, taught by a younger gentleman; the pupils were in the eighth class, or second year at school,--age about seven. The room accommodated the same number, and was lighted and furnished in a similar way. Here figures were written on the blackboard by the teacher. The early part of the lesson had evidently been in addition; now it was subtraction, which was carefully explained by the pupils, and the hour closed by a few mental exercises in concert. In the ten minutes' recess which followed, I again chatted with the teachers in their private room. Thirty teachers are employed to teach these eight hundred girls,--twenty gentlemen and ten ladies. I said that in America the lady teachers largely outnumbered the gentlemen. The lady with whom I was conversing replied that the upper classes in girls' schools were all taught by gentlemen, as the ladies were not prepared to pass the required examinations for these positions. "The gentlemen have a course in the _Gymnasium_ about equal to that in your colleges," she said, "and then pursue a course in the University, in order to fit themselves for teachers." "The expense of this is too much for ladies?" I inquired. "Yes; and they have not the opportunity. They are not admitted to the University of Berlin, and then--women have not the strength for such hard studies"! "How many recitations do you hear?" I asked. "The lady teachers, twenty-two per week; the gentlemen, twenty-four." "The salaries of the gentlemen are higher?" "Oh yes, much higher. They have families to support; and then, the ladies are unsteady,--they often marry."

I was now conducted to the upper division of the first class; girls in the last of the nine years' course of study,--ages about fourteen to sixteen. This was the only class reciting in English, which within a few years has been made a part of the required course, as well as French. They were reading in little paper-covered books, in German text, the _Geisterseher_ of Schiller, and translating the same into English. The teacher was an English gentleman. He wrote occasionally a word on the blackboard, when he wished to explain or impress upon the memory a term or a synonym,--as, for instance, "temporarily," and the words "soften," "mitigate," "assuage,"--and corrected such mistakes in translation as "guess to" for "guess at," and "declaration" for "explanation."

The second division of this first class was in German history. Several of the pupils had historical atlases open before them, which covered the history of the world from the most ancient times to the present, prepared with that excellence which has made German maps famous. The compendium used for a class-book was a brief record of dates and events in Roman type, which is gradually but surely superseding the old German letters. The teacher talked of the quarrel between popes and emperors in the Middle Ages, and especially of the wars of the Investitures. Passing through the corridor after this recitation, I inquired the use of a library there, consisting of several hundred volumes, and was told it was for the use of the teachers; and that there was also one for the use of the pupils, from which they might draw books to read at home,--"some amusing and some instructive."

As "Religion" is marked in the schedule of instruction, and in the weekly, monthly, and quarterly reports sent to the parents, I asked to see the text-book, and was shown two or three. That for the younger pupils was simple, after the manner of our "Bible Stories," of the Creation, "Joseph and his Brethren," etc. That for the upper classes consisted of several catechisms bound in one, including "Luther's," and supplemented by a number of Psalms, as the 1st, 15th, 23d, 130th, to be committed to memory.

I asked if sewing and knitting were taught, and was answered in the affirmative. "Is there a teacher for sewing only?" I asked. "No; formerly there was, but now the teaching of sewing and knitting is distributed among all the lady teachers. The teachers have more influence with the pupils in this way." A wise remark; as only a sewing-teacher of exceptional force and ability can have an influence with the pupils to be compared with that of those who teach them literature. Embroidery is taught, but only "useful embroidery," as the beautiful initial-work on all bed and table linen in Germany is called. Some of that shown me in the sewing-room I now visited was exquisite, but was outdone, if possible, by the darning. Over a small cushion, encased in white cotton cloth, a coarse fabric of stiff threads is pinned, after a square has been cut out from it. This hole the pupil is to replace by darning, composed of white and colored threads. In this instance blue and white threads were woven about the pin-heads inserted at some distance outside the edges of the hole, one for each thread. The darning replaces the fabric, not only with neatness and strength, but in ornamental patterns. Squares, plaids, herringbone and lozenge patterns were done by this process in such a manner as to be very handsome.

We now descended to the ground floor, where was a large gymnasium, fitted up simply, but with a variety of apparatus. A teacher is employed for gymnastics only, but for the reason that until recently the other teachers have not had opportunity to prepare for the examinations, so strict in Germany on every branch. The children here were among the youngest in the school, and were well taught by a lady, but with nothing in the method worthy of special note. The last half-hour, I listened to a recitation in geography. Girls of ten to twelve were numbering and naming the bridges of Berlin, as I entered, and the recitation continued for some time on the topography and boundaries of their own city. A few general questions were given on Germany and its boundaries, and the passes of the Alps, especially the Simplon; and the First Napoleon came in for a little discussion. The whole method and result in this class were admirable.

The teachers seemed to expect I would come again on the morrow, as I had not visited all the classes; and my thanks for the hospitality and full opportunity of inspection which I had so much enjoyed, were mingled with the apology I felt was needed, that my engagements would not permit another visit to the school.

I next sought and obtained an introduction to a Girls' High School. This was under the patronage of the Empress Augusta, and was said, in furnishing and equipment, to be the best in the city. The building is a good one, and the furniture more nearly approaching to that of the best schools in American cities. We went into two or three classes, but were not particularly impressed, favorably or unfavorably, with the methods of instruction. Not so in the gymnastic rooms, where we went to view the exercises of the Normal class, soon to be graduated. No courtesy was shown us by the master in charge, but we were tolerantly allowed to take seats. Here were young women about eighteen years of age, going through some of the more active exercises, in a large and well-fitted room, without a breath of outer air, in sleeves so close that their arms were partly raised with difficulty; so tightly laced about the waist that the blood rushed to their faces whenever they attempted the running exercise sometimes required, and with long skirts and the highest of French heels! And yet this is a country in which a woman is not considered capable of instructing the higher classes in gymnastics!

I now essayed to visit a representative girls' school carried on by private enterprise. The one to which I obtained introduction--and this was always a particular matter, the time of the visit being arranged some days previous by correspondence--was under the patronage of the then Crown Princess, Victoria, whose portrait hung in a conspicuous place in the elegantly furnished drawing-room into which I was first shown. Soon the principal appeared,--a lady, who from a small beginning about fifteen years before had brought the enterprise to its present successful stage, with several hundred pupils in annual attendance. There were a number of governesses, and about thirty pupils resident in the family, the remainder being day-pupils. When asked what I would like to see, as this was a private school, and I knew nothing of its methods, I replied that I would leave the particulars of my visit to the lady in charge. She still hesitated, when I suggested that I should feel interested to visit a class in mathematics. The lady lifted her hands in astonishment. "Mathematics! for girls? Never! We aim to fit girls to become good wives and mothers,--not to teach them mathematics!" "Do you have no classes in arithmetic?" I asked. "Yes, some arithmetic; but higher mathematics would only be hostile to their sphere,--it is not necessary." "Not necessary, possibly," I replied; "but in America we do not think higher study hostile to the preparation of girls for their duties as wives and mothers." "But it is," she replied. "When girls get their minds preoccupied with such things, it interferes with the true preparation for their life." As I had come to learn this lady's ideas of education for girls, not to vindicate mine, I turned the discussion into an inquiry as to the ideal of culture she set before her pupils. "Girls attempt too many things," was the reply. "They come here, some from England and other places, anxious to learn music and languages and what not. I tell them it is impossible to do so many things well. If they wish to learn music, this is not the place for them. They may practise a little,--an hour or two a day, if they wish,--but it is folly to attempt the study of music with other things. We aim to give a thorough training in language and literature; not a smattering, but such an acquaintance as will enable them to understand the people whose tongue they study,--to look at life through their eyes, and to be thoroughly familiar with the masterpieces of their literature. Of course, German holds the first place, but French and English are also taught." I was taken to a class in German literature. The plain and primitive furnishing of the class-rooms was in noticeable contrast to the elegance of the parlors. The girls sat on plain wooden benches, with desks before them on which their note-books lay open. They used these as those who had been trained to take notes and recite from them. I had been told that the teacher in charge of this class was one of the most excellent in the city. The hour was occupied by a lecture on Lessing, a poet whom the class were evidently studying with German minuteness.

I also visited a class in reading,--younger girls, about ten or twelve years of age. They were admirably taught, both in reading and memorizing, the latter chiefly of German ballads. I saw no better teaching done in Berlin than that of this class. Its enthusiastic lady teacher would be a treasure in any land. The last visit of the morning was to a class in vocal music, taught by a gentleman. It was interesting as affording a view of the methods in this music-loving country, but did not differ materially from what would be considered good instruction and drill on this side the water. The teacher himself played the piano, the pupils standing in rows on either side.

In the teachers' dressing-room, a comfortable apartment for the teachers who came from without the building, I chatted a few moments with two or three ladies. One spoke English so well that I asked if it were her vernacular. She appeared gratified by the compliment; said she had been much in other continental countries, and had spent three years in England, with eighteen months beside in the United States. She mistook me for an Englishwoman, and confidently informed me that she had feared her English accent was ruined by the time spent "in the States." "Did you find it so?" I inquired. "No," she said; "fortunately I was able to correct it by stopping in England on my way back." She had evidently not met the gentleman who informed his English friends that they must go to Boston, Massachusetts, if they would hear English spoken correctly. While in Berlin I heard of a young American who was accosted by an Englishman with a question as to what language she spoke. "I speak American," was the reply, "but I can understand English if it is spoken slowly."

The wish to learn English is almost universal among Germans, and the schools have not been before public opinion in making it a part of the curriculum. The result as yet, however, judging from our observation, will justify greater painstaking and more practice, before a high degree of accuracy is reached among the pupils.

IV.

CHURCHES.

The greatest Protestant power of Continental Europe has no Court-churches worthy in appearance of companionship with its palaces and public buildings. But there are those of much historical and other interest, and in some of them the living power of Christianity bears sway. The _Dom_, or Cathedral, dating from the time of Frederick the Great, is far inferior, within and without, to the magnificent buildings which surround it, facing the _Lustgarten_, or Esplanade. Long ago royal plans were made to replace it by an edifice more worthy, but these have not been carried out, though since the accession of Emperor William II. measures have been taken looking toward the erection of a new cathedral.

The usual hour for Sunday-morning service is ten o'clock. The latitude of Berlin is over ten degrees farther north than that of New York and Chicago, and the sun at ten o'clock in winter is about as high as at nine o'clock in the latter cities. So it is only by special effort that a midwinter sojourner in Berlin can be at morning service. Within three minutes of the time appointed, on my first visit, the aged Emperor William entered the _Dom_ and stood for a few minutes in the attitude of devotion, as did the other members of the Imperial household. The gallery on the left of the preacher was occupied by three boxes,--one for the Emperor, one for the Crown Prince and his family, and one for their retinues. The service proceeded in the language of the people,--that language created and preserved to Germany by Luther's translation of the Bible. A finely trained choir of some sixty singers led the music, all the people joining in the psalms and hymns; the Imperial family taking part in the service with simplicity and appearance of sincerity, as those who stood, with all present, in the presence of Him with whom is no respect of persons. The plain interior of the _Dom_ has a painting behind the altar, and the large candles in immense candlesticks on either side were burning before a crucifix throughout the entire service. This we found true also in most of the other churches,--a reminder that, wide as was the gulf between the Lutheran Church and that of Rome, the former retained some customs which Puritanism discarded. Pews fill the central part of this cathedral, and the broad aisle skirting the side at the left of the front entrance has a few seats for the delicate and infirm of the throng which always stands there at the time for the morning service.

It was in this church that the departed Emperor William I. lay in state for the great funeral pageant when his ninety-one years of life were over. Here in the vaults many members of Prussia's royal family repose, and here many stately ceremonies have taken place. At the door of this cathedral Emperor William I., then Prince Regent, stood with uncovered head to receive the remains of Alexander Von Humboldt, which here lay in state in May, 1859, after the great scholar "went forth" for the last time from his home in the Oranienburger Strasse.

We attended a service at the oldest of the Berlin churches, the Nicolai Kirche, and found the sparseness of the audience in striking contrast with the crowds which frequented most of the other churches where we went. Standing-room is usually at a premium in the Cathedral, the Garrison Church, and the place, wherever it may be, in which Dryander preaches; and in nearly all the churches unoccupied seats are hard to find. This is due, not to the large numbers of church-going people in Berlin, but to the comparatively limited church accommodations. It is not too soon that the present Emperor has given order that the number of churches and sittings be immediately increased. In this city of about a million and a half inhabitants, there are only about seventy-five churches and chapels, all told; none very large, and some quite small. It is said that Dryander's parish numbers forty thousand souls, and that there are other parishes including eighty thousand and one hundred and twenty thousand each. Only about two per cent of the population attend church. Ties to a particular church seem scarcely to exist in many cases; those who go to Divine service following their favorite preacher from place to place as he ministers now in one part, now in another, of his vast parish, or going to the Court Church to see the Imperial family, or to some other which happens to offer fine music or some special attraction for the day. Churches do not need, however, to offer special attractions nor to advertise sensational novelties in order to be filled, and of course there are many humble and devout Christians found in the same places from week to week.

The Nicolai Kirche dates from before 1250 A.D. and the great granite foundations of the towers were laid still earlier. At this period the savage Wends and the robber-castles of North Germany were yielding to the prowess of the Knights of the Teutonic Order, and the powerful Hanseatic League was uniting its free cities and cementing its commercial interests, of which Berlin was erelong to be a part,--a League which was to sweep the Baltic by its fleets, and to set up and dethrone kings by its armies. Already the Crusades had broken the long sleep of the Dark Ages, and stirred the people with that mighty impulse which brought the culmination, in the thirteenth century, of the great church-building epoch of Europe in the Middle Ages. No great churches which they could not live to finish were begun by he frugal burghers of Berlin; but they had a style of their own in the brick Gothic, which is the most truly national architecture of North Germany. The Nicolai Kirche is a representative of these early times and of this national architecture, but its interior decorations show every variety of adornment which prevailed during five centuries after its founding. Not alone the history of art is represented on the inner walls of this venerable and unique edifice, but the municipal history, and the history of the "Mark of Brandenburg," and the Kingdom of Prussia as well.

Almost as ancient as the Nicolai Kirche is the Heiliggeist Kirche, behind the Börse. Near this is the Marien Kirche, with its high spire, its Abbot's Cross--the emblem of Old Berlin--before the entrance, and on the inner walls its frescos of the Dance of Death, painted to commemorate the plague which ravaged Berlin in 1460. Adjoining this church, in the Neue Markt, Berlin's statue of Luther is to be erected. Of the same old time, and in the same old heart of Berlin, is the fine Kloster Kirche of the Franciscan monks, who had once a monastery adjoining. A morning's stroll or two enables one to inspect all these interesting old churches,--passing first to the Nicolai Kirche from the end of the tramway in the Fisch Markt, and then, by a convenient circuit, to each of the others, returning by the Museums and the Lustgarten. The Jerusalems Kirche, about three quarters of a mile south, is said to have been founded by a citizen at the end of the Crusades as a memento of his journey to Palestine; but its present ornamented architecture belongs to a modern reconstruction. An effective architectural group is formed by the two churches in the Schiller Platz, with the great _Schauspielhaus_, or Royal Theatre, between them,--a view which soon becomes familiar to one passing often through the central part of the city. The French Church, on the north side of the Theatre, we did not enter, and of the "New Church"--a hundred years old and recently rejuvenated--our most abiding memories are of an exquisite sacred concert given there in aid of a local charity. We made a pilgrimage to see the effect of this group by moonlight, but, perhaps because it had been too highly praised, we found the view rather disappointing. But we shall long remember a walk at evening twilight through this place, when early dusk and gleaming gas-jets around and within the square had taken the place of departing sunlight, which still bathed in radiance the gilded figures surmounting the domes in the clear upper air. Few of the hurrying multitudes stopped to look upward, but those who did could hardly fail to gain an impressive lesson from the inspiring and suggestive sight.