In 1889, weariness set in; there were only two divisions left, an economics division and a fencing division; in place of the colonial policy division, though, 12 members enrolled in a lecture by Prof. Hasse on colonies; it was not until the summer semester of 1893 that this division was reestablished. The winter semester of 1889/90 witnessed the association’s first defeat in the Reading Hall elections and the loss of both permanent seats on the Committee for Voluntary Nursing. Membership decreased below fifty; the chronicle remarks for the first time that, by and large, the student body was imbued with national sentiments, that the association had become just another fraternity alongside the existing ones and that its major task was the education of its own members. The drinking evenings were described as “monotonous and barely animated,” the education of the Fuxen was poor, and the annual report indicates that members exhibited “no desire for lectures.” Thus, what emerges is a decline in both intellectual and social life. From the summer semester of 1890 onward, the theoretical activity of the association increased again, with a legal division and a theological division being added to the existing divisions. In the summer semester of 1891, a literary division was established as well. During this semester, a so-called voluntary division also convened to study Social Democratic workers’ associations.
I had moved from Heidelberg to Leipzig during the winter semester of 1881/82. In those days, a mighty tide of patriotic idealism was sweeping through the hearts of the German students. The goal was to defend the great achievements of the German nation under Bismarck’s powerful leadership – achievements embodied in the venerable person of the old Kaiser Wilhelm I in a manner demanding veneration and love – against sinister internal enemies. The subversive poison of the Jewish spirit with its mocking cynicism was gnawing at this magnificent work, as was the internationalism of aggressive Social Democracy, which had been led down a disastrous path at the time. They had reared their ugly head in the Gallic frivolity that had been imported into our literature and then cultivated there, and in the despicable assassination attempts against our kind and fatherly Kaiser. To defend against these phenomena within the circle of academic youth, the V. D. St. had been founded in those days in Leipzig as well. It was the meeting place of all consciously German thinking, and thus the intellectual center of academic life in those days. It was at one of the association’s great events – perhaps the first Founder’s Day? – that I first became acquainted with it. The impression was overwhelming. The big hall was overflowing with fellow students, including entire contingents of fraternities in colors; sitting at the central board, on both sides of the committee, were about 80 professors. The energy, the stirring enthusiasm of the speeches, the manly force of the patriotic songs was captivating. The evening reached its climax, however, when Ecclesiastical Privy Councilor Prof. Luthardt got up to hold the formal address. In my life, I have gotten to know only a very few men in whom the power of eloquence – that magnificent but often also rather dangerous gift of human genius – seemed to have taken direct hold both internally and externally. Luthardt was one of them. His tall figure, his massive head with its plain long hair pulled backwards, completely exposing his forehead, his noble profile, and his gaunt, cerebral features endowed him with the majestic appearance of a prophet allied with higher powers. Moreover, the content and form of his speeches corresponded with this physical impression. What an abundance of deep thoughts poured forth in the force and magnificence of his words! What greatness and maturity in his genuinely religious and patriotic attitude! How he could rouse, awaken, and thrill us with his warnings, admonitions, and appeals! My conscience, too, had been captivated by him. On that same evening, along with many others, I entered my name on the membership list of the association. During those semesters, Luthardt, an honorary member of the association, was and continued to be its guardian angel. No other professor could match him in terms of the impression his personality left behind. And yet, how many a decent man also stood by us back then! I would like to remember,
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