compare it with the corresponding English conditions of the same period; and these had, as the accomplished Edward Everett, fresh from German universities, had written, absolutely no advantage over the American Cambridge.
He wrote to my father from Oxford (June 6, 1818): There is more teaching and more learning in our American Cambridge than there is in both the English universities together, thoa between them they have four times our number of students.
Harvard Graduates' Magazine, September, 1897, p. 16. Yet he had, with Cogswell and Ticknor, written letter after letter to show the immeasurable superiority of Gottingen to the little American institution; and his low estimate of the English universities as they were in 1818 is confirmed by those who teach in them to-day.
It is fair to say that, provincial as the Cambridge of sixty years ago may have been, it offered at least a somewhat refined provincialism, with the good manners and respectable attainments prevailing at that
re sustained and protected.
It all seems more like the anxious departure from home of one of Goethe's or Jean Paul's youthful wanderers than like the easy manner in which a modern student buys his ticket and goes on board ship.
Yet it was for Longfellow the parting of the ways and the beginning of a new life.
The European letters of previous American student-travellers, and especially those of Ticknor, Everett, and Cogswell, as lately published in the Harvard Graduates' Magazine,
September, 1897. show what a new world then opened upon young American students in Europe.
Longfellow journeyed in Spain with Lieutenant Alexander Slidell (afterward Mackenzie), who says of him in his book, A year in Spain : He was just from college, full of all the ardent feeling excited by classical pursuits, with health unbroken, hope that was a stranger to disappointment, curiosity that had never yet been fed to satiety.
Then he had sunny locks, a fresh complexion, and a clear blue eye, all indic