UNIVERSITY COURIER.
5
GERMAN CUSTOMS.
The following extracts from a letter of Prof. Wickersham to a friend in Lawrence give us some interesting phases of German life:
"New Year comes half a day sooner here than in Lawrence, but stranger than that is his reception. About a half-hour before the bell in old Rath house ushers him in, the large square is filled with happy faces all turned toward the illuminated disc of the clock that has given notice of every year's coming since away in Luther's time, and as the hand approaches twelve, all are as expectant as though they would see the twelve Apostles of the old church in South Germany, and when it strikes, from every part of the Platz, from every street, one hears 'Prosit!' 'Prosit!'
"Strangers wish each other a happy New Year, and address each other in the familiar second person, 'Du.' The policemen for an hour relax from their strict watch, and loud hallooing, running, and other liberties at other times unknown, are heard and seen everywhere. Then the bells of the churches begin to peal, and one almost thinks the New Year will be frightened away."
"The Germans do not know how to make themselves comfortable. They sleep under great feather beds, they have common heating stoves that reach the ceiling, they never have carpeted floors. Have no arrangements for water, indeed one is hardly respectable if he drink water."
"All the rooms are as near alike as two peas, and furnished alike,-a sofa with a little table before it,a book case and desk; and every student eats in his own room,that is, breakfast and supper. I say breakfast,but there is no breakfast in Germany.A 'portion' of coffee and a small biscuit are all anyone can eat for breakfast. They then piece at eleven,and eat in a restaurant at one,begin to eat again at four and stop at seven, but of course beer is always apropos to a German taste."
There are a few disadvantages in having a University on top of a high hill, but those disadvantages have most weight with the lazy. Though brain culture is the desideratum, yet it well becomes a brainy man to have a stout pair of legs under him, and culture to this end—a lower end though it may be—is not undesirable. There may be a tide in the affairs of men when legs are supremely useful, as, for instance, when it is necessary to give "leg bail,"though we trust that no one who was ever a student of our University will be troubled that way. However, a symmetrical culture of the whole man is to be sought, and the situation of the University will allow of no neglect, of at least the lower part of the man.
Since our last issue Herbert S. S. Smith has assumed the duties of Professor of Physics, Astronomy and Engineering, to which position he was recently elected. The Professor is but twenty-one years of age, and is six feet four inches in height, and still growing. Since coming among us he has won many friends.
The Orophilians at their last meeting elected the following officers to serve for the ensuing six weeks: Franklin Riffle, Speaker; Nelson McClees, Clerk; James O. Hayes, Critic; C.A. Peters, Chorister; C.G. Upton, Chaplain; Miss Julia Watson, Organist.
Wesley Bishop, of Connecticut, confessed that he poisoned his own wife to get possession of another woman. He also confessed that he assisted Mrs. Cobb to poison her husband that she might live with him. The woman loved Bishop well enough to murder her own husband for his sake, and then Bishop made the confession in the hope of saving his own neck. On Bishop's confession, Mrs. Cobb was sentenced to imprisonment for life. If an utterly depraved wretch ever disgraced the "Land of Steady Habits," it is this man. And yet since going to jail he has become converted, is leader of the jail choir, and seemingly experiences all the religious ecstacies of assured salvation. He is confident that if ushered out of this world he will be welcomed to the presence of God. Bishop certainly ought to go. He ought not to be detained in this wicked world any longer. It would be a trying ordeal to the public to see him mount the scaffold with the air of a martyr and be swung off into eternity, but it could be endured for Bishop's sake. Connecticut is a religious State and has done a great many good things, but she can never do anything better than to hang Bishop. Connecticut owes this to the world, and if she does her duty the world will forgive her for all the wooden nutmegs she ever made.
The Orophilians, bound to keep up with the times, have adopted "Robert's Rules of Order" for their parliamentary guide. In this they have acted wisely. This book, although before the public but a little over two years, is displacing Cushing's Manual wherever introduced. The distinguishing features of the two authorities are, that while Cushing's Manual is based upon the rules and customs of the English Parliament, "Robert's Rules of Order" is founded upon the usages and rules of the U. S. House of Representatives. Having given the book a careful examination, we can commend it as a work at once systematic and comprehensive, and in no way calculated to mislead.
Prof. W. W. Carnes recently organized a class in elocution, which meets in Macaulay's Commercial College. The class now numbers about forty members and is constantly increasing. We are pleased to state that it is patronized by a good number of our students. Nothing will repay you better than taking a course in elocution under Prof. Carnes.
St. Mary's College was totally destroyed by fire on the 4th inst. The building was erected a few years ago at a cost of $50,000. There was no insurance, and very little of the contents was saved. The students have been transferred to the neighboring Academy of the Sacred Heart. It is the intention of the Catholics to erect at St. Marys the largest college of the kind in the United States.
Eleven new books have been added to the library, the gifts of D. Appleton & Co., New York. We understand that Harper Bros. will also follow in the good work of their generous rivals.
We would call attention to the advertisement of Kinney Bros., New York, and ask for them the patronage of our friends.
We are in receipt of an address and poem delivered before the Alumni of Michigan University, of which association Major W. C. Ransom is president.