that, although there is here no sitting over the wine, it was after midnight before we rose from table. The studious and temperate take a cup of coffee or tea instead of this more substantial repast. But a dish of the pleasant Chinese beverage and sweeter scandal, is a luxury by no means so general with the Germans as with those of English descent. Whenever I have seen it offered, however, the decanter of brandy was an invariable appendage of the tea-table. The ladies had recourse to it as well as the gentlemen; they added a small quantity to their tea, sometimes after the cream, sometimes instead of it. What is commonly called good society is not to be expected in a town so small as this. They have some balls every season, and a very few assemblies, that we should call parties. Waltzing is the only kind of dance I have seen, and I understand it is the only kind practised here. Not long ago one of these balls was given, and, after dancing, the company went into another apartment, where an elegant entertainment was provided. After partaking freely of the good cheer, the young gentlemen present, who were mostly students, testified their satisfaction with their host and themselves by three hearty cheers. A more general amusement is the resorting to the gardens, which many of the wealthiest citizens own just without the walls. For occasional diversion, there is a musical society among the students, which gives concerts not unfrequently, and a friendly club of the citizens; now and then a strolling party of rope-dancers, or other exhibitors of phenomena, natural and unnatural, have a limited permission to amuse the eyes, and lighten the purses of the curious and the idle, but from obvious reasons of academic policy, all permanent establishments of the kind are prohibited. On Sunday a few people go to church, but this is by no means the prevailing fashion. With the large majority it seems to be the day for putting on clean clothes, and, in fair weather, for walking; an additional pipe, leaning out of the window the while, is always reckoned on. The first Sabbath after my arrival in Göttingen, I found myself in danger of freezing in a large, almost empty church, and resolved to make my escape, for the exhortation was in an unknown tongue, and that, St. Paul says, is not edifying. I left the aisle on tiptoe, and attempted to go out by the door I had entered, but was surprised to find it locked. I walked as quietly as possible to the main entrance; to my consternation, this too was fastened. After shivering a weary length of time, the discourse was at last finished, and I heard the glad sound of jingling keys, and made my way out with as much speed as was decent. The object of locking the doors is chiefly to prevent noisy interruptions from without; but you must not wonder, that, during my imprisonment, a thought forced itself upon me in disparagement of the piety of assemblies, whose attention to the sermon must be secured by preventing their escape. There are here seven churches, of which only one is opened for a second service; and there is only one clergyman, who can be said constantly to have an audience. He is an old man of no common energy and eloquence. When he preaches in the University Church, there are several hundreds there; when any one else, a very few scores. In a venerable church near my abode, I counted one Sunday about thirty persons, besides a small school of children, who form an appendage to the church; and I am told, that the worthy old gentleman who officiates there, rarely preaches to a larger congregation. On a dull Sunday a few weeks ago, my attendant told me he had been at church; I asked, how many people were there? He said, there were three besides himself. There occurs to me at this moment, an instance of this poor man's naïveté, which might convey a keen reproof to uncharitable sectarians. He had been brought up in the Lutheran communion, but had recently joined the Calvinists, in consequenne of his wife being of that denomination. I asked him some questions about his views of the difference between the two parties. He had heard a great deal about it, "but the chief one in my mind," said he, is, that their ministers (the Lutheran) begin the Lord's prayer with Vater Unser and ours with Unser Vater." The music occupies the chief time and attention during public worship, and all join in the singing, as all are taught vocal music from childhood. When the congregation is numerous, it must be confessed there is something highly interesting, not to say sublime, in this general tribute of praise. Prayers are not at all in vogue in the Lutheran church. The clergyman makes a short ejaculation on coming into the desk immediately before the sermon, and after sermon repeats the Lord's prayer; at both times the people keep their seats, though, when the last is repeated, all bow their heads. 66 It is a rule of the police, that the shopkeepers shall not sell any thing during the time of public worship; but I am informed, that most of them can be tempted to infringe this regulation. Except in these hours, you can buy as on other days. Even their clergymen, when the service of the morning is once through, consider that there is no further bond upon their conscience. A young professor, who officiates in one of the churches here, lately preached in the morning of a Sabbath, and spent the afternoon with his betrothed at a public place of entertainment a few miles off, where the peasantry were dancing, and the students and shopkeepers drinking. I witnessed not long since the funeral of a student. It was at an early hour of a bright Sabbath morning, that the students were assembled, under numerous marshals, to follow their companion to his narrow mansion. I will not dwell on their disgusting levity, or their ludicrous equipments. They walked in long procession to the market-place, where they were met by the subordinate officers of the university, accompanying the corpse, which was placed in a low simple hearse, drawn by two horses in sable trappings. The young men followed the hearse through the principal street to a burying-ground just without the city. I observed, as they let the coffin down into the earth, that it was of a beautiful form, massive, and highly ornamented. Before ten o'clock the ceremony was over, and all but a few stragglers had left the grave-yard. I lingered for some time about the place, and painful was the idea that crossed my mind, that I might be the next, for whom these heartless forms of mourning might be assumed, and that, too, so far away from all I loved in the world! But my attention was soon diverted from my sombre musings, by the sight of the rude monuments which affection had raised in the grave-yard where I was sauntering. Some were short pillars of stone; one or two of marble; and each bore the record of some marvellous combination of virtues. The most imposing of all, was a female figure in marble, bent in an attitude of grief. It was the memorial of a young Russian count, I was afterwards told, who was killed in a duel with a fellow-student. But most of the graves were more humbly designated by a small black wooden cross, and the more recent graves were planted with flowers. But I remember you are one of those who reverse the wise man's counsel, and think it better to go to the house of feasting than to the house of mourning. So let us leave the tombs, and talk of festivals. Two of these, Easter and Michaelmas, are so important, that rents and reckonings are calculated, and every day is marked in the calendar with relation to one or the other. And Göttingen shares with all Germany in its obstinate attachment to ancient holidays. It is remarkable, that, although the forms and festivals of Romish superstition are here nominally abolished, men yet cling to them, and will not let them go; it may be because we must have superstition, and it may be, and I would rather believe it were so, because we must have its holidays. Yet so coldly does the Northern blood circulate, that there is little more in their festive celebrations than gay apparel and a jovial repast. A slight exception there is in the Christmas amusements; and another at Whitsuntide, when the oxen, that are destined to load the tables, are led into the city with some parade the day before, having their horns decked with flower-garlands, while the peasants, that lead them, are dressed in their Sunday suits and three-cornered hats. In taking leave of Göttingen, I would gladly accompany you to the city gates, and point out the pleasant features in the prospect; but, alas! the heights around have a bleak and barren aspect, and I should long to hasten back with you to our richly-wooded hills and pine-bordered horizon. Yours, affectionately. UNPUBLISHED LETTER OF DR. FRANKLIN. [The following characteristic letter of Franklin, which, we believe, has never yet been published, was communicated to Mr. Schwartz, of Hamburg, by a nephew of Dr. Price, who found it among his uncle's papers. The friend who has sent it to us for publication, lately received it from Mr. Schwartz, in Hamburg The good town, to whose history it relates, has now its steeple and bell, but, we hope, not at the expense of the parish library. ED.] MY DEAR FRIEND, Passy, Mar. 18th, 1785. My nephew, Mr. Williams, will have the honour of delivering you this line. It is to request from you a list of a few good books, to the value of about twenty-five pounds, such as are most proper to inculcate principles of sound religion and just government. new town in the state of Massachusetts, having done me the honour of naming itself after me, and proposing to build a steeple to their meeting house, if I would give them a bell, I have advis'd the sparing themselves the expense of a steeple at present, and that they would accept of books instead of a bell, sense being preferable to sound. These are, therefore, intended as the commencement of a little parochial library for the use of a society of intelligent respectable farmers, such as our country people generally consist of. Besides your own works, I would only mention, on the recommendation of my sister, "Stennet's Discourses on Personal Religion," which may be one book of the number, if you know it and approve of it. With the highest esteem and respect, I am ever, my dear friend, yours most affectionately, Rev. Dr. PRICE. B. FRANKLIN. ORIGINAL POETRY. BURNS. TO A ROSE, BROUGHT FROM NEAR ALLOWAY KIRK, IN AYRSHIRE, IN THE AUTUMN OF 1822. WILD ROSE of Alloway! my thanks- Like thine, beneath the thorn-tree's bough, And will not thy death-doom be mine,- Not so his memory, for whose sake My bosom bore thee far and long, The memory of Burns-a name That calls, when brimmed her festal cup, A nation's glory, and her shame, In silent sadness up. |