KLUYVER AS PROFESSOR; CHRONICLES OF THE LABORATORY 



the news reports were so ominous that he felt obliged to cancel his 

 journey. On August 27, 1939, he wrote to Van Niel: 



'What hurts most is that now the plans for our reunion have come 

 to naught. Believe me that the three months of vainly spent efforts in 

 preparing for the congress and the tour that was to follow - on Thurs- 

 day 240 lantern slides had been carefully packed in my suitcase - do 

 not grieve me as much as the lost opportunity to see and talk with you 

 again. The congress itself and the many lectures in numerous places 

 that had been scheduled for the subsequent tour of the U.S. have 

 never appealed to me ; in any case, the superabundance of contacts 

 would have rather got me down. Qui trop embrasse, . . . 



'Above all else I realize, however, that personal regret about the 

 course of events sinks into nothingness in view of the tortures to which 

 millions of people are subjected at this moment.' 



On May 10, 1940, the Germans invaded Holland; as soon as the 

 immediate turmoil of war had subsided, Kluyver called a meeting of 

 the laboratory staff in order to consider the new situation. He ex- 

 pressed his deep-seated conviction that in the long run right would 

 eventually prevail, and he urged everyone to resume his work. The 

 meeting was concluded with the national anthem. 



Now began a period during which the laboratory population stead- 

 ily declined ; numerous necessities began to run out ; and the contacts 

 with foreign countries were broken off more and more. 



On the other hand, there also occurred a distinct change in Kluy- 

 ver's mental attitude towards his work. He was, after all, not the kind 

 of scientist to whom his occupation means everything and who could 

 work in total isolation, divorced from any and all ties with social 

 events. His speculative mind, instead of concentrating on the work, 

 strayed increasingly towards the experience of foreign occupation and 

 war violence, alarming and laming by their brutal and chaotic irra- 

 tionality. The news bulletins broadcast by the allies were faithfully 

 taken in. The creative scientific work no longer progressed in a mood 

 of playfulness, and often had to yield to activities concerned with the 

 practical requirements of the moment. 



During the war days the laboratory and the home were a natural 

 refuge for personnel, staff, and neighbours who were received with 

 great hospitality and could seek protection in an improvised hiding 

 trench. After the bombing of Rotterdam the laboratory was charged 



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