lologists, Milne-Edwards and Donders; the jurists, Jhering and Nypels — and these are selected almost at random from among the two hundred that thronged the room. Happily there were several such receptions, so that in spite of the speeches, there was a chance of hearing some fragments of talk from the lips of these giants. So the time ran on till midnight, when the guests who were not fatigued adjourned to the students' club — entitled the Minerva — thereto enjoy cigars and champagne,[1] and more speeches. But here the speeches were a more remarkable feature. After an elegant Latin welcome by M. Kappeyne, the president, speeches were made in Latin, Dutch, French, English, and German, all of which were thoroughly appreciated and enjoyed by some five hundred students who thronged the room.
It was a sight to astonish any foreigner; and the members of British universities might well feel ashamed when they compared the high culture and large accomplishments of the Leyden students with those of their own alumni. Imagine speeches in five languages addressed to our students! Imagine them making speeches in Latin or in German! When we perceive the admiration felt in England for Oxford and Cambridge; when we perceive the tacit assumption of superiority among many members of these wealthy institutions, we are often deceived into thinking them leaders of thought in Europe. It is a painful question, but one which was forced upon all the great visitors to this inter-university celebration — What are the English universities doing for the thought of Europe? Who among their scholars is a real leader of men?
But this is disagreeable digression. It should be noted concerning the students that, as their culture is superior to that of English and Irish students, so their habits and ways seemed not inferior to the average Oxford or Cambridge men. The Dutch are not the least like the average German student — untidy, poor, and duelling; and even where the German students are gentlemanly and refined, as many are at Göttingen, there always remains the barbarism of the duel. The Dutch are far above this level. They have private means. They are even accused of extravagance. They live in handsome lodgings, with good appointments. They have good wine and good cigars for their friends. They do not give their enemies the satisfaction of hacking their faces. Their conduct all through the feast, as stewards, as spectators, as audiences, was most exemplary. At the solemn giving of degrees there was no approach to the disgraceful scenes which have often been the opprobrium of Oxford and Dublin. They were hospitable, generous, enthusiastic; and always gentlemen. There are now nearly eight hundred of them, residing for four years at least. They pay from 10l. to 20l. in fees, and if not preparing for any special profession, consider law the best general training. Thus about two-thirds of them appear to be law-students. They use the term philosophers for natural philosophers, of whom there are a good many, particularly attached to the views of Mr. Darwin. These alone escape the inestimable advantage of the classical lectures of Cobet and Pluygers, which all the rest attend. A few statistics such as these are worth mentioning by way of parenthesis, though this paper is not on the university, but on the festival. Yet the English reader, who is usually perfectly ignorant of all foreign institutions, and to whom it is perhaps new that Cobet is professor of Greek at Leyden, may enjoy even these elementary notions about the famous Lugdunum Batavorum.
To follow out the various entertainments in their exact order would be monotonous, and would involve much repetition. It must therefore suffice to say something on the separate heads of dinner-parties, orations, and of general conversation. The deputations were invited to two state dinners: one given by the university, in a large town-hall, the other by Prince Frederick, the king's uncle, at his palace, entitled the "Huis de Pauw" (Domus Pavonum). In addition to these entertainments there were a concert and an opera given by the citizens, a second evening (or rather morning) with the students at their Concordia, an evening reception by the curators, and an afternoon reception by the king and queen, who came to Leyden specially to honour the university and its guests. This interest shown by the royal family for a purely academic meeting was not the least remarkable feature, or the least contrasted with the habits of other courts. The appointments were in all cases very splendid. The banquet of the prince was equal in every respect to those given in our own country by princes and great
- ↑ Not pipes and beer, as the Times imagined.
