Seek the scoundrel who affronted
Gentle Maggie in the Foregate,

Seek him out and trounce him soundly;
Go once more, dear boy, and fight him,
'Tis the valiant heart that conquers."
Billy went as he was bidden,

This time cool of head and steady,
Straightway went and met the scoundrel,
Fought him, thrashed him, gave no quarter,
Made him gasp upon the gravel.
Happy then was Master Garner,
Happy, merry Billy Walton,
Happier still was winsome Maggie,
For her father spake out boldly,
"He shall be my son and partner.”
Then the Bishop in Cathedral,
Joined their hands in holy wedlock,
Joined their hearts in pure affection;

Wished them length of days and brightness,
Brightness in the life before them.
Joy rang out from every steeple,
Joy was felt by all the neighbours ;
Happy bridegroom, happy fair one,
'Tis the brave that fortune favours,
'Tis the valiant heart that conquers.

A. L.

A Glimpse of Dutch Life.

I

66

N many respects Holland may be regarded as the land of paradox. "So near and yet so far," is perhaps an apt description; for it is "so near our shores, that by a few hours' travel we may easily reach it, and yet so far" from the thoughts of the great majority of Englishmen that few, except those who have visited the country, have any conception of the singularities of Dutch life. But there is hardly any country in the world where you meet with such diverse scenes and wonderful contrasts. Travellers to the Continent, in their hurry to reach the Rhine, get but a very inadequate idea of this land, so rich in historic associations, and teeming with such varied interest.

It was my pleasure to spend a short time there last summer, and a few notes may not be unacceptable to intending voyageurs au continent.

Crossing the German Ocean without experiencing any inconvenience from the dreaded mal de mer, we entered the mouth of the Maas, and were at once struck with the curious dykes and dunes which line the shore. A large part of Holland is a delta, formed of the alluvium deposited by the Rhine; and the greater portion of it has been perseveringly rescued from the water, to whom it may be said to belong, by the ingenuity of man. And it is certain that if human effort were to be suspended for six months, a vast extent of the country would be inundated and reduced to a waste of sand and mud-banks. Yet their fields, gained with so much difficulty and only preserved by constant watchfulness, have been surrendered to the ocean in order to keep their dear and precious liberties. Though years of beggary have followed the cutting of the dykes and opening of the sluice-gates, the Dutch have made these enormous sacrifices rather than submit to foreign oppression. And does not England owe a debt of lasting gratitude to the magnanimous Dutch Prince, William of Orange, sprung from the people who have made themselves famous in naval history, and manifested such undaunted courage in times of political and religious upheaval and persecution? No nation has displayed more noble heroism; for they have confronted not only the armed hosts of France and Spain, but the more redoubtable and mighty forces of nature. The way in which they have intrenched themselves behind their sand dunes, and defied both the violence of the wind and sea and the tyrannic powers of despotism, is a matter of profound marvel; and the sturdy strength of their character as well as their stedfast energy, calls for the highest eulogium. The

Dutch are indeed a remarkable nation, and they have a no less remarkable country. The "house built upon the sand" may here be seen standing, sand being the only foundation both for the great cities of Amsterdam and Rotterdam, which are built upon piles driven through many superincumbent feet of bog earth. There are millions of solid beams of wood hidden under ground, supporting these great towns. In Holland, too, the laws of nature seem to be reversed, for the sea is higher than the land, the keels of ships float above the chimneys, and the frog croaking among the bulrushes looks down exaltedly upon the swallow on the house-top. Rivers even cannot wander at their own sweet will, being obliged to pass through the canals; and the sea appears to obey these enterprising people, who, by their great barriers, effectually say "Thus far shalt thou go, and no farther."

The country has a novel appearance as you near its shores. No white cliffs, no hills or sunny slopes, no woods or sylvan giades are to be seen, but only a low-lying ridge, which in the distance, reversing Sindbad's error, might be mistaken for the vertebræ of a leviathan. The forests here are under the water, and though not a pebble can be seen. whole mountains of Norwegian granite are sunk beneath the surface, But what the Dutchman lacks in natural beauty he makes up for by artificial plantations, and you meet constantly with long avenues of trees and shrubs which make in some places this watery desert blossom as the rose. And the Hollanders are not content with curbing the power of Neptune, but they make fierce Boreas their slave. Not a breath of air, not the gentlest zephyr is allowed to pass over and disport itself across their precious lands without paying toll, and as you sail up the Maas countless windmills will be seen in all directions. Though the wind may ally itself with the sea and lake elsewhere, and lash them into fury, the artful Dutchman will not allow them to do as they like over his territory, but he confronts them, and makes them do his behests. He causes the wind to turn his mills which, by means of immense waterwheels attached to them, pump up the water into his canals. There are more than 12,000 windmills in Holland, and in the suburbs of great cities they are congregated like Herculean monsters, spreading out their powerful arms as guardian deities over the streets and houses they overlook.

Though the Dutch have achieved such gigantic tasks of engineering and mechanical skill, they do not believe in menial labour where ingenuity can find a substitute. The windmill pumps the water out of the polders, the horses drag the passengers and merchandise on the canals, and the street porters employ a wheelbarrow to convey their burdens in preference to transporting them "shoulder high." And it is a fact that even the cows' tails, which in other countries are proverbial for growing downwards, here grow upwards, being attached to a ring when the animals are in the stall.

For paradox and wit Holland furnishes abundant material. How many jokes do we make at the expense of the poor Dutchman! Voltaire, on leaving the country, sarcastically said: "Adieu! canaux, canards,

canaille." But our own poet, Andrew Marvel, gives us the following description:

"Holland, that scarce deserves the name of land,
As but the offscouring of the British sand,

And so much earth as was contributed

By English pilots when they heav'd the lead;
Or what by the ocean's slow alluvion fell
Of shipwreck'd cockle and the muscle-shell;
This indigested vomit of the sea

Fell to the Dutch by just propriety.

"Glad, then, as miners who had found the ore,
They, with mad labour, fish'd the land to shore,
And dived as desperately for each piece
Of earth, as if 't had been of ambergris;
Collecting anxiously small loads of clay,
Less than what building swallows bear away.
"How did they rivet with gigantic piles,

Thorough the centre their new-catched miles!
And to the stake a struggling country bound,
Where barking waves still bait the forced ground;
Building their watery Babel far more high
To reach the sea, than those to scale the sky.
"Yet still his claim the injur'd Ocean lay'd
And oft at leap-frog o'er their steeples play'd,
As if on purpose it on land had come

To shew them what's their mare liberum.

"The fish oft-times the burgher dispossess'd,
And sat, not as a meat, but as a guest;

And oft the tritons and the sea nymphs saw
Whole shoals of Dutch serv'd up for Cabillau."

And Butler describes it as :

"A land that rides at anchor and is moor'd,
In which they do not live, but go aboard."

On arriving at Rotterdam, the approach to which was indicated by a great number of the aforesaid windmills, we were much struck with the quaint and queer-looking streets, down whose centre ran wide canals with quays, avenues, roadways, footpaths and long lines of warehouses and merchants' residences on either side. As we walked along, we were amused by the pretty costume of the Dutch servants, their white and scrupulously clean caps, their wooden sabots, and coloured shawls and skirts. We heartily laughed, too, when we first saw the comical ornaments which some of them wore, consisting of little coils of gold with broad bands of silver fixed in some curious fashion upon the head. From these tapering spirals are suspended golden tassels or other trinkets, and the effect of these ornaments is quite novel and surprising. Another phenomenon one cannot fail to remark, especially in the morning, is the extraordinary washing and scrubbing, and mopping and brushing which goes on in every direction. On Saturday morning there is an especial schoonmaken or cleaning. Every house door presents a scene of energetic activity, and not only the steps and doorways, but the pavement, walls, and windows, however guiltless they may be of any impurity, are subjected to thorough washing. On these occasions the unsuspecting

stranger is liable to perpetual wettings. And as he looks up to ascertain the source of the unwelcome moisture he will probably see a diligent maid, stretched out of the window two-thirds of her length, with eyes intently turned upwards, and discharging bowls of water upon some refractory stain visible only to her scrutinizing eye. Spiders have a very precarious existence in this country.

A ramble along some of the principal quays-the Leuve Haven, the Scheepmaker's Haven, the Wijn Haven, the Boompiz, and the Willemsplein -will bring you to the Groote Kerk of St. Laurence, which contains a magnificent organ, having 90 stops and 6,500 pipes. It also contains fine statues of De Witt, Cortenaer, and Van Brackel. Near here is the Groote Markt, or market place, and thither we hastened to see that which for us had great and special interest. With reverence we stood before the statue of Erasmus, and pondered on his great service to Christianity, and his noble and untiring toil in connection with the Greek Testament. We eagerly sought out the house in which he was born, and stood and gazed with wonder, our mind teeming with thoughts of his self-denying devotion to learning, and his holy, earnest life. The house, though small, is very interesting, and bears a statuette of the scholar, with the inscription "Hoc est parva domus, magnus quâ natus Erasmus"-this is the little house in which the great Erasmus was born.

Rotterdam is full of historic and curious interest, and abounds with commercial activity and industry. There are some capital shops, which appear devoid of all dust and grime, and everywhere there is an air of sweet freshness. The park, too, is prettily laid out. We wandered hither one evening in the sunset hour, and richly enjoyed a quiet time in its avenues of fern-like trees. Everything was so pure and inspiring, and there reigned an indescribable charm of order and brightness, which produced a soothing peacefulness upon our spirits after the bustle and smoke of the midland metropolis.

From Rotterdam we visited the Hague, or as the Dutch call it S' Graven hauge (the Count's hedge), this being the hunting seat of the Counts of Holland in 1256. We visited the palace and many quaint and antiquarian buildings, and were especially delighted with the treasures of the museum or Maurits Huis. Here for the first time we gazed on a picture by Rubens. It was a portrait of his wife. What a charming work of love it must have been to him to portray in his own grand way the beauties of that face which had won his heart, and which smiled with tenderest sympathy and devoted affection! We were filled with wonderment and admiration, not only at the beauty of the woman and the fair loveliness of her features, but at the fine coloring, the rich blending of the most delicate tints and the sweet tones and sunshine of the whole picture; and we mused on the consummate art which could preserve to us even for centuries the attractive graces of the "human face divine." As we gazed on the works of the old Dutch and Flemish masters we seemed to breathe a new atmosphere in art, and perceived a rich and strange beauty and power in the coloring and composition of