In this connection we have to be on our guard against the opposite extreme—­namely, the inference that the larger a city the better for the college.  The very largest cities are perhaps not favorable to the growth of institutions of learning.  Even in Germany, where the university system rests upon a different basis and adapts itself more readily to circumstances, the leading capitals, Berlin and Vienna, are at a disadvantage.  The expenses of living are so great as to deter all but the wealthy or the very ambitious, and the pomp and pageantry of court and nobility, the numerous personnel of the several departments of state, finance, war and justice throw the less ostentatious votaries of science and letters into the shade.  Nevertheless, the universities of Berlin and Vienna can scarcely be said to be threatened with permanent decline.  The governments of Prussia and Austria recognize the necessity of a great university in a great capital to give tone to the administrative departments and to resist the spread of the spirit of materialism.  Besides, the resident population of each of these cities is entitled to a university, and would be sufficient of itself to support one.  We may rest assured, therefore, that the Prussian government will act in the future as it has done in the past, by sparing no efforts to make the Frederico-Gulielma the head of the Prussian system in fact as well as in name.  Nevertheless, it must be admitted that the present hard times and the unsettled state of society in Berlin tend to restrict the number of students.  The remarkable contrast presented in the sudden growth of the Leipsic University shows how even matters of education are influenced by social and economic laws.  This Saxon city seems marked out by Nature for a seat of learning.  It combines almost all attractions and advantages.  It is accessible from every quarter, the climate is good for North Germany, and the neighborhood is pleasant, although anything but picturesque.  The newer houses are well built, rooms and board are not expensive.  The inhabitants are wealthy and highly cultured, the book-trade is enormous, and the banking-business considerable.  Yet trade does not move with the fever-heat of speculation:  the life of the city is quiet and regular.  Amusements of a high order are within the reach of every one.  These minor attractions, combined with the more important ones offered by the university itself, will explain to us how it is that Leipsic has taken the foremost rank.  Students who are used to city ways, and who would have chosen Berlin ten or twenty years ago, now come here because of the cheapness of living.  Others, tired of the monotony of the smaller university towns, come to get a foretaste of the world that awaits them after the completion of their studies.  The temper of the students is admirable.  Rarely if ever do they betray any traces of the hectoring spirit which still lingers at Heidelberg, for instance.  But for the display of corps-caps and cannon boots and an occasional swagger in the street, one might pass an entire semester in Leipsic without realizing that the city contains three thousand students.  Undoubtedly, the young men perceive, like their colleagues of Yale, that their surroundings are too much for them.