Expecting as I did something out of the ordinary, I was very much
disappointed. The society proved to be quite vague and indefinite. Those
present, the host, a certain Jens Paludan-Mueller, son of the historian,
a certain Julius Lange, son of the Professor of Pedagogy, and a few
others, received me as though they had been waiting for me to put the
society on its legs; they talked as if I were going to do everything to
entertain them, and as if they themselves cared to do nothing; they
seemed to be indolent, almost sluggish. First we read aloud in turns
from Bjoernson's _Arne_, which was then new; a lagging conversation
followed. Nutzhorn talked nonsense, Paludan-Mueller snuffled, Julius
Lange alone occasionally let fall a humorous remark. The contrast
between Nutzhorn's band, who took sociability calmly and quietly, and
Kappers' circle, which met to work and discuss things to its utmost
capacity, was striking. The band seemed exceedingly phlegmatic in
comparison.

This first impression was modified at subsequent meetings. As I talked
to these young men I discovered, first and foremost, how ignorant I was
of political history and the history of art; in the next place, I
seemed, in comparison with them, to be old in my opinions and my habits.
They called themselves Republicans, for instance, whereas Republicanism
in Denmark had in my eyes hitherto been mere youthful folly. Then again,
they were very unconventional in their habits. After a party near
Christmas time, which was distinguished by a pretty song by Julius
Lange, they proposed--at twelve o'clock at night!--that we should go to
Frederiksborg. And extravagances of this kind were not infrequent.

Still it was only towards midsummer 1860 that I became properly merged
into the new circle and felt myself at home in it. It had been increased