The Universities
As to the Universities themselves, it is not necessary to consider them
separately, as all four of them, Leyden, Groningen, Utrecht and Amsterdam,
are alike in constitution. They are not residential, there are no
beautiful buildings, there are no rival colleges, no tutors or proctors,
and no 'gate;' nor are they independent corporations like Oxford and
Cambridge and Durham, for, though they retain some outward forms which
recall a former independence, they are now maintained and managed entirely
by the State, which pays the professors and provides the necessary
buildings. The subjects to be taught and the examinations to be held in
the various faculties are laid down by statute. Consequently the
Universities show the same want of individuality as the schools, and, to
an outsider at least, there seems to be nothing of the 'Alma Mater' about
them under the present _régime,_ and no real ground for preferring any one
of them to the others. At the same time, fathers usually send their sons
to the Universities at which they themselves have studied, except when
they and the professors happen to hold very different political opinions,
but such a custom may be due as much to the national love of order and
regularity as to any real attachment to a particular University. As to
the political opinions of professors, their influence on the students
cannot be very great in the majority of cases, being limited to the effect
produced by lectures, for there is no social intercourse between teacher
and taught. The professors, though very learned men, do not enjoy any
great social standing, and the title does not carry with it anything like
the same rank as in some other countries.
The system on which these Universities work may be a sound and logical one
so far as it goes, and more up-to-date than the English residential
system, which its enemies deride as mediæval and monastic; but it is a
cast iron system, designed with the object of preparing men for
examinations, and one which does nothing to discover promising scholars or
to encourage original work and research among those who have taken their
degrees, or, according to the Dutch phrase, have gained their 'promotion'.
There are no scholarships, nor anything that might serve the same purpose,
though some such institution could hardly find a more favourable soil than
that of Holland. Instruction of a very learned and thorough character is
offered to those who will and can receive it, and that is all. The classes
are open to all who pay the necessary fees, which are trifling, though the
degree of Doctor may only be granted to those who have passed the
'Gymnasium' final or an equivalent examination, and, provided he makes
these payments, a student is free to do as he pleases, so far as his
University is concerned.
Discipline there is none, except in very rare cases, when the law provides
for the expulsion of offenders; only theological candidates are indirectly
restrained from undue levity by having to get a certificate of good
conduct at the end of their course. There is no chapel to keep, for the
student's religion and morals are entirely his own concern; there are no
'collections,' for if a man does not choose to read he injures no one but
himself by his idleness; and there is no Vice-Chancellor's Court, for in
theory students are on the same footing as other people before the law,
though in practice the police seldom interfere with them more than they
can help. It is not surprising that young men not long from school should
sometimes abuse such exceptional freedom, but their ideas of enjoyment are
rather strange in foreign eyes. One of their favourite amusements seems to
be driving about the town and neighbourhood in open carriages. On special
occasions all the members of a club turn out, wearing little round caps of
their club colours, and accompanied as likely as not by a band, and drive
off in a procession to some neighbouring town, where they dine; in the
night or next morning they return, all uproariously drunk, singing and
shouting, waving flags and flinging empty wine-bottles about the road. I
do not wish to imply that all Dutch students behave in this way, but such
exhibitions are unfortunately not uncommon, and show to what lengths
'freedom' is permitted to go.
There is a limit, however, even to the liberty of students, as appears
from the following anecdote. One of these young men gave a wine-party in
his lodgings, and some one proposed, by way of a lark, to wake up a young
woman who lived in the house opposite, and fetch her out of bed, so a
rocket was produced and fired through the open window. The bombardment had
the desired effect, but it also set the house on fire, and the joker's
father was called on to make good the damage. Then the police took the
matter up, and the culprit got several weeks' imprisonment for arson,
after which he returned to the University and resumed his interrupted
studies. There was no question of rustication, as the court simply
inflicted the penalty laid down in the Code, and there was no other
authority that had power to interfere in the matter at all.
As may well be imagined, students are not generally popular with the
townsfolk, who resent the unequal treatment of the two classes, not
because they wish for the same measure of license, but because anything
like rowdiness contrasts strongly with their own habits; and extravagance,
not an uncommon failing among students in Holland or elsewhere, is
absolutely repugnant to the average Dutch citizen. This feeling of
resentment seems to be growing, and has already had some slight effect
upon the civil authorities; if the students find some day that they have
lost their privileged position, they will have only themselves to thank,
and certainly the change will do them no harm.
But though a certain number go to the Universities merely to amuse
themselves or to be in the fashion, most of them work well, even if they
do not attend lectures regularly all through their course. In some
faculties private coaching offers a quicker and easier way to 'promotion'
than the more orthodox one through the class-rooms. No doubt there are
some who are in no hurry to leave the attractions of student life, but not
many cling to them so persistently as a certain Dutch student, to whom a
relative bequeathed a liberal allowance, to be paid him as long as he was
studying for his degree. He became known as 'the eternal student,' to the
great wrath of the heirs who waited for the reversion of his legacy. For
most men the ordinary course is long enough, for it averages perhaps six
or seven years, though there is no fixed time, and candidates may take the
examinations as soon as they please. The nominal course--that is, the time
over which the lectures extend--varies in the different faculties, from
four years in law to seven or eight in medicine, but very few men manage,
or attempt, to take a degree in law in four years. The other faculties are
theology, science, including mathematics, and literature and philosophy.
The degree of Doctor is given in these five faculties, and to obtain it
two examinations must be passed, the candidate's and the doctoral. After
passing the latter a student bears the title _doctorandus_ until he has
written a book or thesis and defended it _viva voce_ before the
examiners. He is then 'promoted' to the degree, a ceremony which
generally entails, indirectly, a certain amount of expense. It appears to
be the correct thing for the newly-made doctor to drive round in state,
adorned with the colours of his club and attended by friends gorgeously
disguised as lacqueys, and leave copies of his book at the houses of the
professors and his club fellows, after which he, of course, celebrates
the occasion in the invariable Dutch fashion, with a dinner. Many
students, however, are not qualified to try for a degree, not having been
through the 'Gymnasia,' and others do not wish to do so. Sometimes the
candidate's examination qualifies one to practise a profession, and is
open to all, in other cases, in the faculty of medicine for example, it
gives no qualification, and is only open to candidates for the degree,
but then there is another, a 'professional' examination, for those who do
not aim at the ornamental title.
The cost of living at the Universities naturally depends very much on the
student's tastes and habits. He pays to the University only 200 florins
(_£16 13s 4d_) a year for four years, after which he may attend lectures
free of charge, so the minimum annual expenditure is small; but it should
be borne in mind that the course is about twice as long as in England. A
good many students live with their families, which is cheaper than living
in lodgings; and as nearly all classes are represented, there is a
considerable difference in their standards of life. Some are certainly
extravagant, as in all Universities, which tends to raise prices, but, on
the other hand, many of them are men whose parents can ill afford the
expense, but are tempted by the value which attaches to a University
career in Holland, and these bring the average down. Between these two
extremes there are plenty who do very well on £150 or so a year, and £200
is probably considered a sufficiently liberal allowance by parents who
could easily afford a larger sum. Even the students' corps need not lead
to any great expense, as it consists of a number of minor clubs, and
nearly every one joins it, so that the pace is not always the same;
students who wish to keep their expenses down naturally join with friends
who are similarly situated, leaving the more extravagant clubs to the
young bloods who have plenty of money to spare.
The corps is the only tie which holds the students together where there
are no colleges, and athletics play but a very small part. Each University
has its corps, to which all the students belong except a few who take no
part in the typical student life, and are known as the 'boeven,' or
'knaves.' A Rector and Senate are elected annually from among the members
of four or five years' standing to manage the affairs of the corps. In
order to become a member, a freshman, or 'green,' as he is called in
Holland, has to go through a rather trying initiation, which lasts for
three or four weeks. Having given in his name to the Senate, he must call
on the members of the corps and ask them to sign their names in a book,
which is inspected by the Senate from time to time, and at each visit he
comes in for a good deal of 'ragging,' for, as he may not go away until
he has obtained his host's signature, he is completely at the mercy of his
tormentors. If he does not obey their orders implicitly and give any
information they may require about his private affairs, he is likely to
have a bad time, but as long as he is duly submissive he is generally let
off with a little harmless fooling. One 'green,' a shy and retiring youth,
who did not at all relish the impertinent inquiries which were made into
his morals and family history, was made to stand at the window and give a
full and particular account of himself to the passers-by, with interesting
details supplied by the company. Sometimes, however, the joking is more
brutal and less amusing. For instance, as a punishment for shirking the
bottle, the victim was compelled to kneel on the floor with a funnel in
his mouth, while his tormentors poured libations down his throat.
When the 'green time' is over the new members of the corps are installed
by the Rector, and drive round the town in procession, finishing up, of
course, with a club dinner. The corps has its head-quarters in the
Students' Club, which corresponds more or less to the 'Union' at an
English University, though differing from the latter in two important
respects: first, there are no debates, and secondly, the members are
exclusively students, for, as I have already noticed, there is no social
intercourse between the professors and their pupils. The reading-rooms at
the club are a favourite lounge of a great many of the students, but it
must be admitted that the literature supplied there is not always of a
very wholesome kind, seeing that it includes 'realism' of the most daring
description, with illustrations to match, and obscene Parisian comic
papers. Every member of the corps also belongs to one of the minor clubs
of which it is made up, and which are apparently nothing more than
messes, very often with only a dozen members, or less.
A few sport clubs exist, also under the control of the corps, but they do
not play a very prominent part, for the taste for athletic exercises is
confined to a small minority. Considering the small number of players, the
proficiency attained in the exotic games of football and hockey is
surprisingly high. The rowing is even better, and attracts a larger
number, being perhaps more suited to the physical characteristics of the
race than those games for which agility is more necessary than weight and
strength. Boat-races are held annually between the several Universities,
in which the form of the crews is generally very good. If I am not
mistaken, some of the Dutch crews that have rowed at Henley represented
University clubs. The typical student, however, though well enough endowed
with bone and muscle, has no ambition whatever to become an athlete, or to
submit to the fatigue and self-denial of training. Probably the way he
lives and his aversion to athletics, more than the length of his course of
study, account for his elderly appearance, for he is not only obviously
older than the average undergraduate, but begins to look positively
middle-aged both in face and figure almost before he has done growing.
Before leaving the subject of the students' corps, mention must be made
of the great carnival which each corps holds every five years to
commemorate the foundation of its University. The 'Lustrum-Maskerade,'
which is the chief item in the week of festivities, is a historical
pageant representing some event in the mediæval history of Holland. The
chief actors are chosen from among the wealthiest of the students, and
spare no trouble or expense in preparing their get-up, while the minor
parts are allotted to the various clubs within the corps, each club
representing a company of retainers or men-at-arms in the service of one
of the mock princes or knights. For six days the players retain their
gorgeous costumes and act their parts, even when excursions are made in
the neighbourhood in company with the friends and relatives who come to
join in the commemoration, and the mixture of mediæval and modern
costumes in the streets has a somewhat ludicrous effect. On the first day
the visitors are formally welcomed by the officers of the corps. Former
students of all ages meet their old comrades, and the men of each year,
after dining together, march together to the garden or park where the
reception is held. Anything less like the usual calm and serious
demeanour of these seniors than the way in which they dance and sing
through the town is not to be imagined, for the oldest and most sedate of
them are as wildly and ludicrously enthusiastic as the youngest student;
and their arrival at the reception, with bands of music, skipping about
and roaring student songs like their sons and grandsons, is, to say the
least, comical. But the occasion only comes once in five years, and they
naturally make the most of it.
The next day the Masquerade takes place, beginning with a procession to
the ground, and is repeated two or three times before huge crowds of
spectators, for the townsmen are as excited as the students and the
relatives, at least on the first two days. Great pains are always taken to
ensure historical correctness in every detail, and the leading parts are
often admirably played, and it must be the unromantic dress of the
lookers-on that spoils the effect and makes one think of a circus. If only
the crowd could be brought into harmony with the masqueraders in the
matter of clothes the illusion might be complete; as it is, one can hardly
imagine for a moment that the knights who charge so bravely down the
lists mean to do one another any serious damage. A tournament is very
often the subject of the pageant, or an important part of it, or sometimes
a challenge and single combat are introduced as a sort of _entr'acte_. For
the last four days of the feast there is no fixed order of procedure;
balls, concerts, garden-parties, and so on are arranged as may be most
convenient, while the intervals are spent in visits, dinners, and drives.
Not until the end of the week does any student lay aside his gay costume
and resume the more prosaic garments of his own times. All through the
week the influence of the corps, which is the life of the University from
the student's point of view, is manifest in the collective character of
all the festivities, everything being done either by the corps itself or
under its direction. From a comparison of this celebration with 'Commem'
week we can, perhaps, gather a very fair idea of the typical points of
difference between the students of Holland and our own country.