Georg Ebers

The Story of My Life


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       Georg Ebers

      The Story of My Life

       Autobiography of the Famous Egyptologist and Novelist

       Translator: Mary J. Safford

      e-artnow, 2020

       Contact: [email protected]

      EAN: 4064066392499

      Table of Contents

       Introduction.

       Chapter I. Glancing Backward.

       Chapter II. My Earliest Childhood

       Chapter III. On Festal Days

       Chapter IV. The Journey to Holland to Attend the Golden Wedding.

       Chapter V. Lennestrasse.—Lenne.—Early Impressions.

       Chapter VI. My Introduction to Art, and Acquaintances Great and Small in the Lennestrasse.

       Chapter VII. What a Berlin Child Enjoyed on the Spree and at His Grandmother’s in Dresden.

       Chapter VIII. The Revolutionary Period Before the Revolution

       Chapter IX. The Eighteenth of March.

       Chapter X. After the Night of Revolution.

       Chapter XI. In Keilhau

       Chapter XII. Friedrich Froebel’s Ideal of Education.

       Chapter XIII. The Founders of the Keilhau Institute, and a Glimpse at the History of the School.

       Chapter XIV. Rudolstadt

       Chapter XV. Summer Pleasures and Rambles

       Chapter XVI. Autumn, Winter, Easter and Departure

       Chapter XVII. The Gymnasium and the First Period of University Life.

       Chapter XVIII. The Time of Effervescence, and My School Mates.

       Chapter XIX. A Romance Which Really Happened.

       Chapter XX. At the Quedlinburg Gymnasium

       Chapter XXI. At the University.

       Chapter XXII. The Shipwreck

       Chapter XXIII. The Hardest Time in the School of Life.

       Chapter XXIV. The Apprenticeship.

       Chapter XXV. The Summers of My Convalescence.

       Chapter XXVI. Continuance of Convalescence and the First Novel.

      TO MY SONS.

       When I began the incidents of yore,

       Still in my soul’s depths treasured, to record,

       A voice within said: Soon, life’s journey o’er,

       Thy portrait sole remembrance will afford.

       And, ere the last hour also strikes for thee,

       Search thou the harvest of the vanished years.

       Not futile was thy toil, if thou canst see

       That for thy sons fruit from one seed appears.

       Upon the course of thine own life look back,

       Follow thy struggles upwards to the light;

       Methinks thy errors will not seem so black,

       If they thy loved ones serve to guide aright.

       And should they see the star which ‘mid the dark

       Illumed thy pathway to thy distant goal,

       Thither they’ll turn the prow of their life bark;

       Its radiance their course also will control.

       Ay, when the ivy on my grave doth grow,

       When my dead hand the helm no more obeys,

       This book to them the twofold light will show,

       To which I ne’er forget to turn my gaze.

       One heavenward draws, with rays so mild and clear,

       Eyes dim with tears, when the world darkness veils,

       Showing ‘mid desert wastes the spring anear,

       If, spent with wandering, your courage fails.

       Since first your lips could syllable a prayer,

       Its mercy you have proved a thousandfold;

       I too received it, though unto my share

       Fell what I pray life ne’er for you may hold.

       The other light, whose power full well you know,

       E’en though in words I nor describe nor name,

       Alike for me and you its rays aye glow—

       Maternal love, by day and night the same.

       This light within your youthful hearts has beamed,

       Ripening the germs of all things good and fair;

       I also fostered them, and joyous dreamed

       Of future progress to repay our care.

       Thus guarded, unto manhood you have grown;

       Still upward, step by step, you steadfast rise

       The oldest, healing’s noble art has won;

       The second, to his country’s call replies;

       The third, his mind to form is toiling still;

       And as this book to you I dedicate,