Chapter 3

could be called society. One lived in one’s family and with one’s intimate friends without any ceremony. It is a pity that children are not taught a few rules of life-wisdom by their seniors. I know that the Jews do not neglect that duty, and I remember being surprised at my young Jewish friends at Dessau coming out with some very wise saws which evidently had not been grown in their own hot-houses, but had been planted out full grown by their seniors. The only rules of worldly wisdom which I remember, came to me through proverbs and little verses which we had either to copy or to learn by heart, such as:

“Wer einmal lügt, dem glaubt man nicht Und wenn er auch die Wahrheit spricht.”

“Morgenstunde hat Gold im Munde.”

“Kein Faden ist so fein gesponnen, Er kommt doch endlich an die Sonnen.”

“Jeder ist seines Glückes Schmied.”

Some lines which hung over my bed I have carried with me all through life, and I still think they are very true and very terse:

“Im Glück nicht jubeln und im Sturm nicht zagen, Das Unvermeidliche mit Würde tragen, Das Rechte thun, am Schönen sich erfreuen, Das Leben lieben und den Tod nicht scheuen, Und fest an Gott und bessere Zukunft glauben, Heisst leben, heisst dem Tod sein Bitteres rauben.”

Still, all this formed a very small viaticum for a journey through life, and I often thought that a few more hints might have preserved me from the painful process of what was called rubbing off one’s horns. Again and again I had to say to myself, “That would have done very well at home, but it was a mistake for all that.” My social rawness and simplicity stuck to me for many years, just as the Dessau dialect remained with me for life; at least I was assured by my friends that though I had spoken French and English for so many years, they could always detect in my German that I came from Dessau or Leipzig.