The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Journey Made in the Summer of 1794, through Holland and the Western Frontier of Germany, with a Return Down the Rhine, Vol. I (of 2), by Ann Ward Radcliffe

A JOURNEY MADE
IN THE SUMMER OF 1794,

THROUGH
HOLLAND
AND THE
WESTERN FRONTIER OF GERMANY,
WITH A
RETURN DOWN THE RHINE:
TO WHICH ARE ADDED
OBSERVATIONS DURING A TOUR
TO
THE LAKES
OF
LANCASHIRE, WESTMORELAND, and CUMBERLAND.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
SECOND EDITION.
BY

ANN RADCLIFFE.

LONDON: PRINTED FOR G. G. AND J. ROBINSON, PATERNOSTER-ROW.
MDCCXCV.

[HELVOETSLUYS.]
[ROTTERDAM.]
[DELFT.]
[THE HAGUE.]
[LEYDEN.]
[HAERLEM.]
[AMSTERDAM.]
[UTRECHT.]
[NIMEGUEN.]
[CLEVES.]
[XANTEN.]
[RHEINBERG.]
[HOOGSTRASS.]
[NEUSS.]
[COLOGNE.]
[BONN.]
[GOODESBERG.]
[THE VALLEY OF ANDERNACH.]
[COBLENTZ.]
[MONTABAUR.]
[LIMBOURG.]
[SELTERS.]
[MENTZ,]
[OF MENTZ IN 1792 AND 1793.]
[MENTZ.]
[FRANCKFORT.]
[OPPENHEIM.]
[WORMS.]
[FRANCKENTHAL,]
[OGGERSHEIM,]
[MANHEIM.]
[SCHWETZINGEN.]
[CARLSRUHE.]

The Author begs leave to observe, in explanation of the use made of the plural term in the following pages, that, her journey having been performed in the company of her nearest relative and friend, the account of it has been written so much from their mutual observation, that there would be a deception in permitting the book to appear, without some acknowledgement, which may distinguish it from works entirely her own. The title page would, therefore, have contained the joint names of her husband and herself, if this mode of appearing before the Public, besides being thought by that relative a greater acknowledgement than was due to his share of the work, had not seemed liable to the imputation of a design to attract attention by extraordinary novelty. It is, however, necessary to her own satisfaction, that some notice should be taken of this assistance. She may, therefore, be permitted to intrude a few more words, as to this subject, by saying, that where the œconomical and political conditions of countries are touched upon in the following work, the remarks are less her own than elsewhere.

With respect to the book itself, it is, of course, impossible, and would be degrading if it were not so, to prevent just censure by apologies; and unjust censure she has no reason, from her experience, to fear;—but she will venture to defend a practice adopted in the following pages, that has been sometimes blamed for its apparent nationality, by writers of the most respectable authority. The references to England, which frequently occur during the foreign part of the tour, are made because it has seemed that one of the best modes of describing to any class of readers what they may not know, is by comparing it with what they do.

May 20, 1795.

[HELVOETSLUYS.]

About twenty hours after our embarkation, at Harwich, and six after our first sight of the low-spread and barren coast of Goree, we reached this place, which is seated on one of many inlets, that carry the waters of the German Ocean through the southern part of the province of Holland. Goree, rendered an island by these encroachments of the sea, is always the first land expected by the seamen; or rather they look out for the lofty tower of its church, which, though several miles more distant than the shore, is visible when that cannot be discerned. The entrance of the water between the land, in a channel probably three leagues wide, soon after commences; and Helvoetsluys is then presently seen, with the masts of vessels rising above its low houses, amidst green embankments and pastures, that there begin to reward the care of excluding the sea.

The names of Dutch towns are in themselves expressive of the objects most interesting to a people, who, for opportunities of commerce, have increased their original and natural dangers, by admitting the water in some parts, while, for their homes and their lives, they must prevent it from encroaching upon others. Dam, Sluice, or Dyke occur in almost all their compounded titles. The sluice, which gives this town part of its name, is also its harbour; affording, perhaps, an outlet to the overflowings of the country behind, but filled at the entrance to the depth of more than eighty feet by the sea, with which it communicates.

Upon the banks of this sluice, which are partly artificial, the town is built in one short street of small houses, inhabited chiefly by tradesmen and innkeepers. The dockyard bounds the sluice and the town, communicating with the former by gates, over which a small pivot bridge connects the two sides of the street. Each head of the pier, or harbour, has been extended beyond the land, for several yards by pile work, filled with earth and large stones, over which there is no pavement, that its condition may be constantly known. We stepped from the packet upon one of these, and, walking along the beams, that pass between the immense piles, saw how closely the interstices were filled, and how the earth and stones were again compacted by a strong kind of basket-work.

The arrival of a packet is the chief incident known at Helvoetsluys, and, as ours entered the harbour about noon, and in fine weather, perhaps, a fourth part of the inhabitants were collected as spectators. Their appearance did not surprise us with all the novelty, which we had expected from the first sight of a foreign people. The Dutch seamen every where retain the national dress; but the other men of Helvoetsluys differ from Englishmen in their appearance chiefly by wearing coarser clothes, and by bringing their pipes with them into the street. Further on, several women were collected about their baskets of herbs, and their dress had some of the novelty, for which we were looking; they had hats of the size of a small chinese umbrella, and almost as gaudily lined within; close, white jackets, with long flaps; short, coloured petticoats, in the shape of a diving bell; yellow slippers, without quarters at the heel; and caps, that exactly fitted the head and concealed the hair, but which were ornamented at the temples by gold filagree clasps, twirling, like vine tendrils, over the cheeks of the wearer.

Our inn was kept by English people, but the furniture was entirely Dutch. Two beds, like cribs in a ship, were let into the wainscot; and we were told, that, in all the inns on our journey, we should seldom, or never, be shewn into a room, which had not a bed.

Helvoetsluys, it sufficiently appears, is a very inconsiderable place, as to its size and inhabitants. But it is not so in naval, or military estimation. It is distant about ten or twelve miles from the open sea, yet is nearly secure from attack on this side, because that part of the approach, which is deep enough for large vessels, is commanded by batteries on shore. It stands in the middle of an immense bay, large enough to contain all the navy of Holland, and has a dockyard and arsenal in the centre of the fortifications. When we passed through it, six ships of the line and two frigates were lying in the dockyard, and two ships of the line and three frigates, under the command of an Admiral, in the bay.

The fortifications, we were assured upon good military authority, were in such repair, that not a sod was out of its place, and are strong enough to be defended by five thousand men against an hundred thousand, for five weeks. The sea water rises to a considerable height in a wide ditch, which surrounds them. We omitted to copy an inscription, placed on one of the walls, which told the date of their completion; but this was probably about the year 1696, when the harbour was perfected. Though the dockyard can be only one of the dependencies upon that of Rotterdam, the largest ships of that jurisdiction are preserved here, on account of the convenient communication between the port and the sea.

Near this place may be observed, what we examined with more leisure upon our return, the ingenuity, utility and vastness of the embankments, opposed by the Dutch to the sea. From Helvoetsluys eastward, for many miles, the land is preserved from the sea only by an artificial mound of earth, against which the water heavily and often impetuously strives for admission into the sheltered plains below. The sea, at high water, is so much above the level of the ground, from which it is thus boldly separated, that one who stands on the land side of the embankment hears the water foaming, as if over his head. Yet the mound itself, which has stood for two centuries, at least, without repair, though with many renewals of the means, that protect it, is still unhurt and undiminished, and may yet see generations of those, whom it defends, rising and passing away, on one side, like the fluctuations of the tides, which assail and retire from it, on the other.

It is better, however, to describe than to praise. The mound, which appears to be throughout of the same height, as to the sea, is sometimes more and sometimes less raised above the fields; for, where the natural level of the land assists in resistance to the water, the Hollanders have, of course, availed themselves of it, to exert the less of their art and their labour. It is, perhaps, for the most part, thirty feet above the adjoining land. The width at top is enough to permit the passage of two carriages, and there is a sort of imperfect road along it. In its descent, the breadth increases so much, that it is not very difficult to walk down either side. We could not measure it, and may therefore be excused for relating how its size may be guessed.

On the land side, it is said to be strengthened by stone and timber, which we did not see, but which may be there, covered by earth and grass. Towards the sea, somewhat above and considerably below high-water mark, a strong matting of flags prevents the surge from carrying away the surface of the mound; and this is the defence which has so long preserved it. The matting is held to the shore by bandages of twisted flags, running horizontally, at the distance of three or four yards from each other, and staked to the ground by strong wooden pins. As this matting is worn by every tide, a survey of it is frequently made, and many parts appear to have been just repaired. Further in the sea, it is held down by stones; above, there are posts at every forty yards, which are numbered, that the spot may be exactly described where repairs are necessary. The impost for the maintenance of these banks amounts to nearly as much as the land-tax; and, as the land could not be possessed without it, this tax has the valuable character of being occasioned by no mismanagement, and of producing no discontent.

[ROTTERDAM.]

From Helvoetsluys to this place the usual way is by the Brill and Maesland sluice, with several changes of carriages and boats; but, on the days of the arrival of mails, a Rotterdam skipper, whose vessel has been left at a hamlet on the Maese, takes his party in carriages across the island of Voorn, on which Helvoetsluys stands, to his schuyt, and from thence by the Maese to Rotterdam. We paid two ducats, or about seventeen shillings, for the whole, and found this the highest price given for travelling in Holland. Our carriage was a sort of small coach of the fashion, exhibited in paintings of the sixteenth century, but open before, and so ill-furnished with springs, that the Dutch name, "a covered waggon," was not an improper description of it. A bad road led us through some meadows of meagre grass, and through fields in which corn was higher, though thinner, than in England. The prospect was over an entire level to the horizon, except that the spires of distant villages, some small clusters of trees, and now and then a wind-mill, varied it. As we approached any of these clusters, we found usually a neat farm-house sheltered within, and included, together with its garden and orchard, in a perfect green fence: the fields were elsewhere separated from each other and from the road, neither by hedges or walls, but by deep ditches filled with water, over which are laid small bridges, that may be opened in the middle by a sort of trap-door, raised and locked to a post, to prevent the intrusion of strangers.

On the way we passed now and then a waggon filled with large brass jugs, bright as new gold. In these vessels, which have short narrow necks, covered with a wooden stopper, milk is brought from the field throughout Holland. It is always carried to the towns in light waggons, or carts, drawn frequently by horses as sleek and well-conditioned as those in our best coaches.

The hamlet, at which we were to embark, was busied in celebrating some holiday. At the only cottage, that had a sign, we applied for refreshment, partly for the purpose of seeing its inside, by which we were not a little gratified. Thirty or forty peasants were seated upon benches, about a circle, in which children were dancing to the scraping of a French fiddler. The women wore their large hats, set up in the air like a spread fan, and lined with damask, or flowered linen. Children of seven years old, as well as women of seventy, were in this preposterous disguise. All had necklaces, ear-rings, and ornamental clasps for the temples, of solid gold: some wore large black patches of the size of a shilling. The old woman of the house had a valuable necklace and head-dress. Among the group were many of Teniers' beauties; and over the countenances of the whole assemblage was an air of modesty, decorum, and tranquillity. The children left their dancing, to see us; and we had almost lost our tide to Rotterdam, by staying to see them.

Our sail up the Maese was very delightful. The river flows here with great dignity, and is animated with vessels of all countries passing to and from Rotterdam. The huge Archangelman, the lighter American, the smart, swift Englishman, and the bulky Dutchman, exhibit a various scene of shipping, upon a noble surface of water, winding between green pastures and rich villages, spread along the low shores, where pointed roofs, trees, and masts of fishing-boats, are seen mingled in striking confusion. Small trading schuyts, as stout and as round as their masters, glided by us, with crews reposing under their deep orange sails, and frequently exchanging some salute with our captain. On our left, we passed the little town of Flaarding, celebrated for its share of the herring-fishery on our coasts; and Schiedam, a larger port, where what is called the Rotterdam geneva is made, and where several English vessels were visible in the chief street of the place. After a sail of two hours we distinguished Rotterdam, surrounded by more wood than had yet appeared, and overtopped by the heavy round tower of the great church of St. Lawrence. The flatness of its situation did not allow us here to judge of its extent; but we soon perceived the grandeur of an ample city, extending along the north shore of the Maese, that, now spreading into a noble bay, along the margin of which Rotterdam rises, sweeps towards the south-east.

The part of the city first seen, from the river, is said to be among the finest in Europe for magnificence and convenience of situation. It is called the Boom Quay, i. e. the quay with trees, having rows of lofty elms upon the broad terrace, that supports many noble houses, but which is called a quay, because ships of considerable burthen may moor against it, and deliver their cargoes. The merchants accordingly, who have residences here, have their warehouses adjoining their houses, and frequently build them in the form of domestic offices. The quay is said to be a mile in length, but appears to be somewhat less. There are houses upon it, as handsome as any in the squares of London.

At the top of the Boom Quay is one of the Heads, or entrances by water into the city, through which the greater part of its numerous canals receive their supplies. On the approach to it, the view further up the Maese detains attention to the bank of this noble river. A vast building, erected for the Admiralty, is made, by a bend of the Maese, almost to face you; and the interval, of more than a quarter of a mile, is filled by a line of houses, that open directly, and without a terrace, upon the water. The fronts of these are in another street; but they all exhibit, even on this side, what is the distinction of Dutch houses and towns, a nicety and a perfectness of preservation, which give them an air of gaiety without, and present you with an idea of comfort within. What in England would be thought a symptom of extraordinary wealth, or extravagance, is here universal. The outside of every house, however old or humble, is as clean as water and paint can make it. The window-shutters are usually coloured green; and whatever wood appears, whether in cornices or worse ornaments, is so frequently cleaned, as well as painted, that it has always the gloss of newness. Grotesque ornaments are sometimes by these means rendered conspicuous; and a street acquires the air of a town in a toyshop; but in general there is not in this respect such a want of taste as can much diminish the value of their care.

Our skipper reached his birth, which is constantly in the same place, soon after passing the Head, and entering by a canal into one of the principal streets of the city. Between the broad terraces of this street, which are edged with thick elms, the innumerable masts of Dutch schuyts, with gay pendants and gilded tops; the hulls of larger vessels from all parts of the world; the white drawbridges, covered with passengers; the boats, continually moving, without noise or apparent difficulty; all this did somewhat surprise us, who had supposed that a city so familiarly known, and yet so little mentioned as Rotterdam, could have nothing so remarkable as its wealth and trade.

In our way from the boat to the inn, other fine canals opened upon us on each side, and we looked at them till we had lost the man, whom we should have followed with our baggage. We had no fear that it would be stolen, knowing the infrequency of robberies in Holland; and the first person, of whom we could enquire our way in broken Dutch, acknowledged his country people by answering in very good English. There are many hundreds of British residents in this place, and our language and commerce have greatly the sway here over those of all other foreign nations. The Dutch inscriptions over warehouses and shops have frequently English translations underneath them. Of large vessels, there are nearly as many English as Dutch in the harbour; and, if you speak to any Dutchman in the street, it is more probable that he can answer in English than in French. On a Sunday, the English fill two churches, one of which we attended on our return. It is an oblong brick building, permitted by the States to be within the jurisdiction of the Bishop of London, Parliament having given 2500l. towards its completion in the beginning of the present century. There are also many Protestant dissenters here, who are said to have their offices of worship performed with the ability, simplicity, and zeal, which are usually to be observed in the devotions of that class of Christians.

Rotterdam is the second city for size, and perhaps the first for beauty, in the United Provinces; yet, when we walked through it the next day, and expected to find the magnificence of the approach equalled in its interior, we were compelled to withdraw a little of the premature admiration, that had begun to extend to the whole place. The street, where there is most trade and the greatest passage, the Hoogstraat, is little wider, though it is abundantly cleaner, than a London lane. The Stadthouse is in this street, and is an old brick building, with a peaked roof, not entirely free from fantastic ornament. It has been built too early to have the advantages of modern elegance, and too late for the sanction of ancient dignity. The market-place has only one wide access; and the communication between the street, from the principal Head, and that in which the Exchange is placed, is partly through a very narrow, though a short passage. The Exchange itself is a plain stone building, well designed for its purpose, and completed about fifty years ago. The happiest circumstance relating to it is, that the merchants are numerous enough to fill the colonnades on the four sides of its interior. Commerce, which cannot now be long discouraged in any part of Europe, because without it the interest of public debts cannot be paid, is the permanent defender of freedom and knowledge against military glory and politics.

From the Exchange there is an excellent walk to the market-place, where the well-known statue of Erasmus is raised. Being represented in his doctor's dress, the figure can display little of the artist's skill; but the countenance has strong lines, and a physiognomist would not deny them to be expressive of the discernment and shrewdness of the original.

The market-place is really a large bridge, for a canal passes under it; but its size, and the easiness of ascent from the sides, prevent this from being immediately observed. Some of the surrounding houses have their dates marked upon glazed tiles. They were built during the long war, that rescued the provinces from the Spanish dominion; a time when it might be supposed that nothing would have been attended to, except the business of providing daily food, and the duty of resisting the enemy; but in which the Dutch enlarged and beautified their cities, prepared their country to become a medium of commerce, and began nearly all the measures, which have led to their present extensive prosperity.

Near this place is the great church of St. Lawrence, which we entered, but did not find to be remarkable, except for a magnificent brass balustrade that crosses it at the upper end. A profusion of achievements, which cover the walls almost to the top, contribute to its solemnity. In addition to the arms of the deceased, they contain the dates of their birth and death, and are used instead of inscriptions, though no names are expressed upon them. Under the pulpit was an hour-glass, which limits the discourse of the preacher: on one side a wand, having at the end a velvet bag and a small bell; this is carried about, during an interval in the service, and every body puts something into it for the poor. The old beadle, who shewed us the church, laid his hands upon us with pleasure, when he heard that we were English, and Protestants. There are three ministers to this church, with salaries of nearly two hundred pounds sterling each.

We went to our inn through the Hoogstraat, which was filled with people and carriages, but has no raised pavement to separate the one from the other. In all the towns which we saw, the footpath is distinguished from the road only by being paved with a sort of light coloured brick. The Dutch shops are in the shape, which those of London are described to have had fifty years since, with small high windows, and blocks between them and the street. Silversmiths expose their goods in small glass cupboards upon the blocks, and nearly all the trades make upon them what little shew is customary. Almost every tenth house displays the inscription Tabak te koop, "Tobacco to be sold." This street, having no canal, is occupied entirely by retail traders. We bought in it the Antwerp Gazette for two doights, or one farthing; strawberries, large and well coloured, at a lower price than they could be had six weeks later in England, but without flavour; and went into several booksellers' shops, expecting to have found something in Latin, or French, but could see only Dutch books. In another street a bookseller had several English volumes, and there are no doubt well filled shops, but not so numerous as that we could find any.

Over the canals, that flow through almost every street of Rotterdam, are great numbers of large drawbridges, which contribute much to the neat and gay appearance of the city; but, when these are raised, the obstruction to the passage occasions crowds on each side; and, therefore, in some of the most frequented parts, the bridges are entire and permanent, except for the breadth of three feet in the centre, where there is a plank, which opens upon hinges almost as easily as the lid of a trunk. Through this opening the masts of the small Dutch schuyts are easily conducted, but ships can pass only where there are drawbridges. The number of the former is immense; for, throughout the provinces, every village, if it is near a canal, has several schuyts, which carry away the superfluous produce of the country, and return with the manufactures, or stores of the towns. But neither their number, nor their neatness, is so remarkable as the ease and stillness, with which they traverse the city; and indeed ease and stillness are much the characteristics of all the efforts of Dutch industry. The noise and agitation, usual whenever many persons are employed together in other countries, are unknown here. Ships are brought to their moorings, schuyts pass each other in crowded canals, heavy burthens are raised and cargoes removed, almost without a word, that can be heard at twenty yards distance.

Another circumstance, rendering Dutch towns freer from noise than others of equal traffic, is the little use which is made of waggons and carts, even where some sort of land carriage must be employed. Heavy commodities are usually carried about the streets on sledges; and almost the greatest noise is, when the driver of one of these, after having delivered his load, meaning to render himself a prodigy of frolicsomeness, stands upon the hinder edges of his sledge, and then, preventing himself from falling backward by his hold of the reins, is drawn rapidly through the admiring crowd.

We were long enough at Rotterdam, during three visits, to see how well it is provided with avenues towards the country and along the banks of the Maese. To one of these the way is over the two Heads, or chief canals, each of which you cross for a doight, or half a farthing, in boats that are continually passing between the two sides. This little voyage saves a walk of about three hundred yards to the nearest bridge. The boats will hold twenty or thirty persons, and the profit of them is very considerable to the City government, which applies the money to public purposes. Each boat is worked by one man, who pulls it over by a rope in about two minutes.

Many of the inhabitants have what they call garden-houses upon these walks, and upon a semi-circular road, which passes on the land side of the city; but the most wealthy have seats at greater distances, where they can be surrounded with grounds, and make the display of independent residences.

Upon the whole, Rotterdam has from its situation many conveniences and delights, and from its structure some magnificence, together with a general neatness; but is, for the most part, deficient in elegance, and its beauties have too much the air of prettinesses. The canals are indisputably fine, crowned with lofty terraces, and deep enough to carry large vessels into the centre of the city.

[DELFT.]

Between Rotterdam and this place we commenced our travelling in trechtschuyts, which are too well known to need description. The fare is at the rate of about a penny per mile, and a trifle more hires the roof, which is a small separate chamber, nearest to the stern of the vessel, lighted by windows on each side. In engaging this, you have an instance of the accuracy of the Dutch in their minutest transactions; a formal printed receipt, or ticket, is given for the few pence which it costs, by a commissary, who has no other business than to regulate the affairs of the trechtschuyts at his gate of the city. We could never learn what proportion of the fare is paid as a tax to the State, but it is said to be a considerable part; and not only these schuyts, but the ferries, the post waggons, and the pilotage throughout the United States, are made contributory to the public funds.

The punctuality of the departure and arrival of the trechtschuyts is well known, and justifies the Dutch method of reckoning distances, which is by hours, and not by leagues or miles. The canals being generally full to the brim, the top of the vessel is above the level of the adjoining country, and the view over it is of course extensive; but the houses and gardens, which are best worth seeing, are almost always upon the banks of the canal. We passed several such in the way to Delft, towards which the Rotterdam merchants have their favourite seats; but Dutch gardens are rather to be noticed by an Englishman as curiosities, than as luxuries. It is not only by the known ill taste of their ornaments, but by the effects of climate and the soil, that gardens are deprived of value, in a country, where the moisture is so disproportioned to the heat, that the verdure, though bright, has no fragrance, and the fruit, at its utmost size, scarcely any flavour.

A passage of two hours brought us to Delft, which we had expected to find a small and ill-inhabited place, knowing it to be not now occupied by any considerable trade. Our inn, we supposed, must be within a few minutes walk. We proceeded, however, through one street for half a mile, and, after some turnings, did not reach our inn, though we were led by the nearest way, in less than twenty minutes. During all this time we were upon the terraces of clear canals, amongst excellent houses, with a small intermixture of shops and some public buildings. The mingled admiration and weariness, which we felt here, for the first time, have been, however, often repeated; for if there is a necessity for saying what is the next distinction of Dutch towns, after their neatness, their size must be insisted upon. There are Dutch villages, scarcely marked in a map, which exceed in size some of the county towns in England. Maesland Sluice, a place opposite to the Brill, is one. And here is Delft, a place with scarcely any other trade than consists in the circulation of commodities from Rotterdam through some neighbouring villages; which is not the seat of any considerable part of the national government, and is inferior, in point of situation, to all the surrounding towns. Delft, thus undistinguished, fills a large circumference, with streets so intricately thick, that we never went from our inn without losing our way.

The Doolen, one of the best inns in Holland, is a large building of the sixteenth century, raised by the Spaniards, and first intended to be a convent; but, having been used by the burghers of Delft for public purposes, during the struggle of the Province against Spain, it is now venerable as the scene of their councils and preparations. In the suite of large apartments, which were used by them, some of the city business is still transacted, and in these strangers are never entertained. Behind, is a bowling-green, in which the burghers to this day perform their military exercises; they were so employed when we came in; and it was pleasing to consider, that their inferiority to their ancestors, in point of martial appearance, was the result of the long internal peace secured by the exertions of the latter.

Over two arches of the building is the date of its erection, 1565, the year in which the destruction of all families, professing the Protestant religion either in France or Spain, is supposed to have been agreed upon at Bayonne between the sovereigns of the two countries, and one year preceding the first measures of confederate resistance in the Low Countries, which that and other efforts of persecution produced. One of these arches communicates with the rooms so long used by the burghers; and our hostess, an intelligent woman, accompanied us through them. The first is ornamented with three large pictures, representing several of the early burghers of the Commonwealth, either in arms or council. A portrait of Barneveldt is marked with the date and the painter's name, "Michael Miereveld delineavit ac perfunctoriè pinxit, 1617," one year before the flagitious arrest of Barneveldt, in defiance of the constitution of the provinces, by Maurice of Orange. A piece, exhibiting some of the burghers in arms, men of an handsome and heroic appearance, is also dated, by having 1648 painted on a drum; that, which shews them in council, has a portrait of Grotius, painted when he was seventeen. His face is the seventh from the right hand in the second row.

Beyond this room are others containing several score of small cupboards, on the doors of each of which are two or three blazonries of arms. Here are deposited some parts of the dress and arms of an association of Arquesbusiers, usual in all the Dutch towns; the members of which society assemble annually in October, to shoot at a target placed in a pavilion of the old convent garden. The marksman takes his aim from the farthest room; and between him and the mark are two walls, perforated two feet and a half in length, and eight inches in breadth, to permit the passage of the shot. A man stands in the pavilion, to tell where the ball has struck; and every marksman, before he shoots, rings a bell, to warn this person out of the way. He that first hits a white spot in the target, has his liquor, for the ensuing year, free of excise duty; but, to render this more difficult, a stork is suspended by the legs from a string, which, passing down the whole length of the target, is kept in continual motion by the agitation of the bird. It did not appear whether the stork has any other share in this ancient ceremony, which is represented in prints of considerable date. It is held near the ground, out of the way of the shot, and is certainly not intended to be hurt, for the Dutch have no taste for cruelty in their amusements. The stork, it is also known, is esteemed by them a sort of tutelary bird; as it once was in Rome, where Asellus Sempronius Rufus, who first had them served at an entertainment, is said to have lost the Prætorship for his sacrilegious gluttony. In these trivial enquiries we passed our first evening at Delft.

Early the next morning, a battalion of regular troops was reviewed upon a small plain within the walls of the town. The uniform is blue and red, in which the Dutch officers have not quite the smart appearance of ours. One of these, who gave the word to a company, was a boy, certainly not more than fifteen, whose shrill voice was ludicrously heard between the earnest shouts of the others. The firing was very exact, which is all that we can tell of the qualities of a review.

Delft was a place of early importance in the United Provinces, being one of the six original cities, that sent Deputies to the States of the province; a privilege, which, at the instance of their glorious William the First of Orange, was afterwards properly extended to twelve others, including Rotterdam and the Brill. Yet it is little celebrated for military events, being unfortified, and having probably always obeyed the fortune of the neighbouring places. The circumstance which gives it a melancholy place in history, is the murder of the wife and beneficent Prince who founded the republic. His palace, a plain brick building, is still in good repair, where strangers are always shewn the staircase on which he fell, and the holes made in the wall by the shot that killed him. The old man, who keeps the house, told the story with as much agitation and interest as if it had happened yesterday. "The Prince and Princess came out of that chamber—there stood the Prince, here stood the murderer; when the Prince stepped here to speak to him about the passport, the villain fired, and the Prince fell all along here and died. Yes, so it was—there are the holes the balls made." Over one of these, which is large enough to admit two fingers, is this inscription:

"Hier onder staen de Teykenen der Kooglen daar meede Prins Willem van Orange is doorschootten op 10 July, A. 1584."

To this detestable action the assassin acknowledged himself to have been instigated by the proclamation of Philip the Second, offering a reward for its perpetration. The Princess, who had the wretchedness to witness it, had lost her father and her former husband in the massacre of St. Bartholomew in France, which, though contrived by Catherine and Charles the Ninth of that country, is believed to have been the consequence of their interview at Bayonne, with Isabella, the wife of the same Philip.

The melancholy excited on this spot is continued by passing from it to the tomb of William, in the great church, called the Nieuwe Kerk. There the gloomy pageantry of the black escutcheons, above a choir, silent, empty and vast, and the withering remains of colours, won by hands long since gone to their decay, prolong the consideration of the transientness of human worth and happiness, which can so easily be destroyed by the command, or the hand of human villainy.

This tomb is thought to be not exceeded by any piece of sepulchral grandeur in Europe. Standing alone, in a wide choir, it is much more conspicuous and striking than a monumental fabric raised against a wall, at the same time that its sides are so varied as to present each a new spectacle. It was begun in 1609, by order of the States General, and completed in 1621; the artist, Hendrik de Keyzer, receiving 28,000 florins as its price, and 2000 more as a present. The length is 20 feet, the breadth 15, and height 27. A bronze statue of the Prince, sitting in full armour, with his sword, scarf, and commander's staff, renders one side the chief; on the other is his effigy in white marble, lying at full length; and at his feet, in the same marble, the figure of the dog, which is said to have refused food from the moment of its master's death. Round the tomb, twenty-two columns of veined or black Italian marble, of the Doric order, and, with bases and capitals of white marble, support a roof or canopy, ornamented with many emblems, and with the achievements of the Prince.

At the corners, are the statues of Religion, Liberty, Justice, and Fortitude, of which the first rests upon a piece of black marble, on which is inscribed in golden letters the name of Christ; and the second holds a cap, with the inscription Aurea Libertas. On the four sides of the canopy are the devices of the Prince, with the inscriptions Jehovah.—Je maintiendrai Piété et Justice.—Te Vindice, tuta Libertas.—And, Sævis tranquillus in Undis.

There are many other ornaments, which give dignity or elegance to the structure, but cannot be described without tediousness. The well-known Epitaph is certainly worth transcribing:

D. O. M. et eternæ memoriæ Gulielmi Nassoviæ, supremi Auransionensium Principis, Patr. patriæ, qui Belgii fortunis suas posthabuit et suorum; validissimos exercitus ære plurimum privato bis conscripsit, bis induxit; ordinum auspiciis Hispaniæ tyrannidem propulit; veræ religionis cultum, avitas patriæ leges revocavit, restituit; ipsam denique libertatem tantum non assertam, Mauritio Principi, paternæ virtutis hæredi filio, stabiliendam reliquit. Herois vere pii, prudentis, invicti, quem Philip. II. Hisp. R. Europæ timor, timuit; non domuit, non terruit; sed empto percussore fraude nefanda sustulit; Fœderat. Belgii provinc. perenni memor. monum. fec.

"To God the best and highest, and to the eternal memory of William of Nassau, Sovereign Prince of Orange, the father of his country, whose welfare he preferred to that of himself and his family; who, chiefly at his own expence, twice levied and introduced a powerful army; under the sanction of the States repelled the tyranny of Spain; recovered and restored the service of true religion and the ancient laws of the country; and finally left the liberty, which he had himself asserted, to be established by his son, Prince Maurice, the heir of his father's virtues. The Confederated Belgic Provinces have erected this monument, in perpetual memory of this truly pious, prudent and unconquered Hero, whom Philip II. King of Spain, the dread of Europe, dreaded; never overcame, never terrified; but, with wicked treachery, carried off by means of an hired assassin."

The tomb of Grotius is in the same church, which is a stately building of brick and stone, but has nothing of the "dim religious light," that sooths the mind in Gothic structures. Upon the steeple are many small bells, the chimes rung upon which are particularly esteemed, both for tone and tune.

On the opposite side of a very large market-place is the Town-house, an old building, but so fresh and so fantastic with paint, as to have some resemblance to a Chinese temple. The body is coloured with a light, or yellowish brown, and is two stories high to the roof, in which there are two tier of peaked windows, each under its ornament of gilded wood, carved into an awkward resemblance of shells. Upon the front is inscribed, "Delphensium Curia Reparata," and immediately over the door "Reparata 1761."

The Oude Kerk, or Old Church, is in another part of the town, and is not remarkable, except for the tombs of Leuwenhoek, Peter Heine and Van Tromp. That of Leuwenhoek has a short inscription, in Latin almost as bad as that of a verse epitaph upon Grotius, in the other church. He was born, it appears, in October 1632, and died in August 1723. The tombs of Heine and Van Tromp are very handsome. There are the effigies of both in white marble, and one of the victories gained by the latter is represented in alto relievo. On account of the tombs, both churches are open, during certain hours in the day; and a beadle, or, perhaps, an almsman, is placed in each, who presents a padlocked box, into which money may be put for the poor.

In this town is the chief arsenal of the province of Holland, except that the magazine of powder is at the distance of about a mile from it, near the canal to Rotterdam. In 1787, when the dissensions between the States General and the Prince of Orange were at their height, a provincial free corps seized this arsenal, and held it for the States till the return of the Prince of Orange to the Hague, a few weeks afterwards.

Having seen what was pointed out to our notice, at Delft, and learned that its extensiveness was owing to the residence of a great number of retired merchants from Rotterdam, we left it in a trechtschuyt for the Hague, having little other notion of it in our minds, than that it is very dull and very rich, and of a size, for which there is no recompense to a stranger, except in considering, that its dullness is the rest of those, who have once been busy, and that its riches are at least not employed in aggravating the miseries of poverty by ostentation.

[THE HAGUE.]

A voyage of an hour and a half brought us here over a canal well bordered by country houses and gardens, all of which, as in other parts of Holland, have some inscription upon their gates, to say, that they are pleasant, or are intended for pleasure. Fine Sight, Pleasant Rest, High Delight, or some similar inscription, is to be seen over the door of every country house, in gold letters. On our way, we looked for Ryswick, where the treaty of 1697 was signed, and saw the village, but not the palace, which, being of free stone, is mentioned as a sort of curiosity in the country. It is this palace, which is said to contain proofs of an extraordinary dispute upon questions of ceremony. The Ambassadors, sent to prepare the treaty, are related to have contended so long, concerning their rights of precedence, that the only mode of reconciling them was to make separate entrances, and to allow the Mediating Minister alone admission by the principal gate.

From the trechtschuyt we had a long walk to our inn, an handsome house, standing almost in the midst of palaces, and looking over a noble sheet of water, called the Vyver, which extends behind the Court, for its whole length, flowing nearly to the level of the lower windows. The Court itself, a large brick building, irregular, but light and pleasant, was entirely within our view, on the left; on the right, a row of magnificent houses, separated from the Vyver by a large mall; and, in front, beyond the Vyver, a broad place, bordered by several public buildings. In this Court all the superior colleges of government have their chambers, and the Prince of Orange his suite of apartments. The fossé, which surrounds it, three drawbridges and as many gates are the only fortifications of the Hague, which has been several times threatened with the entrance of an enemy, but has not been taken since 1595, when the magistrates of the then infant republic, and all the superior inhabitants, retired to Delft, leaving the streets to be overrun with grass, and the place to become a desert under the eyes of its oppressors. During the invasion of Louis the Fourteenth, it escaped the ravages of the Duke of Luxembourg's column, by the sudden dissolution of the ice, on which he had placed 9000 foot and 2000 cavalry. Yet the advice of William the Third, who probably thought money better expended in strengthening the frontier than the interior of the country, counteracted a plan of fortification, which was then proposed, for the third or fourth time.

The Court consists of two squares; in the inner of which are the apartments of the Stadtholder, and none but himself and his family can enter this in carriages, or on horseback. On the northern side, in the first floor, are the apartments of the States General, which we saw. The principal one is spacious, as a room, but has not the air of a hall of debate. Twenty-six chairs for the Deputies are placed on two sides of a long table: the President, whose chair is in the centre, has on his right hand, first, a Deputy of his own province, then three Deputies of Friesland, and two of Groningen; on his left, six Deputies of Holland; opposite to him, nearest to the head of the table, six Deputies of Guelderland, then three of Zealand, then two of Utrecht, and two of Overyssel. The Stadtholder, who has a place, but not a vote, has a raised chair at the upper end of the table; the Secretary is seated opposite to him, and is allowed to wear his hat, like the Deputies, during their deliberations, but must stand uncovered, behind the President, when he reads letters, or other papers. The number of Deputies is known to be indefinite; about fifty are generally returned; and those, who are present from each province, more than the number allowed at the table, place themselves below it. The walls of this room are covered with tapestry, not representing historical events, but rural scenery; the backs and seats of the chairs are of green velvet; and all the furniture, though stately and in the best condition, is without the least approach to show. These apartments, and the whole of this side of the Court, were the residence of Charles the Fifth, when he visited the Hague, and of the Earl of Leicester, when he commanded the troops lent to the Republic by Elizabeth.

The government of the United Provinces is too well known to permit a detailed description here, but some notice may reasonably be expected of it.

The chief depositaries of the sovereignty are not the States General, but the Provincial States, of whose Deputies the former body is composed, and without whose consent they never vote upon important measures. In the States General each Province has one vote; which, with the reasons for it, may be delivered by an unlimited number of Deputies; and the first Deputy of each province presides in the States by rotation for a week. In questions relative to peace or war, alliances, taxes, coinages, and to the privileges of provinces, no measures can be taken but by unanimous consent; upon other occasions, a majority is sufficient. No persons holding military offices can be Deputies to the States General, which appoints and receives all ambassadors, declares war, makes peace, and names the Greffier, or Secretary of State, and all Staff Officers.

The Provincial States are variously composed, and the interior governments of the provinces variously formed. In the province of Holland, which contains the most prosperous part of the Republic, there are eighteen Deputies to the Provincial States, for as many towns, and one for the nobility. The Grand Pensionary presides in this assembly, and is always one of the Deputies from it to the States General.

The Council of Deputies is composed of ten members: nine from the towns, and one from the nobility. This Council, in which the Grand Pensionary also presides, regulates the finances of the province, and takes cognizance of the distribution of troops within it.

The Council, called the Council of State, is composed, like the States General, of Deputies returned from the provinces, and appears to be to that body, in a great measure, what the Council of Deputies is to the Provincial States, having the direction of the army and the finances.

As provincial affairs are directed by the Provincial States, so the affairs of each town are governed by its own Senate, which also returns the members, if the town is entitled to send one, to the States of the Province, and directs the vote, which that member shall give. The Burgomasters in each town are the magistrates charged with the police and the finances, and are usually elected annually by the old Council, that is, by those who have been Burgomasters, or Echevins. These latter officers have the administration of civil and criminal affairs, and are, in some places, appointed by the Stadtholder from a double number nominated to him; in others, are accepted from the recommendation of the Stadtholder. The Bailiffs preside in the Council of Burgomasters and Echevins; and in their name prosecutions are instituted.

Of the Deputies to the States General, some are for life, and some for one or more years.

Such is the nicely complicated frame of this government, in which the Senates of the Towns elect the Provincial States, and the Provincial States the States General; the latter body being incapable of deciding in certain cases, except with unanimity and with the express consent of their constituents, the Provincial States; who again cannot give that consent, except with unanimity and with the consent of their constituents, the Senates.

The Stadtholder, it is seen, has not directly, and in consequence of that office, any share of the legislative power; but, being a Noble of four provinces, he, of course, participates in that part of the sovereignty, which the Nobility enjoy when they send Deputies to the Provincial States. Of Zealand he is the only Noble, all the other titled families having been destroyed in the original contest with Spain; and there are no renewals or creations of titles in the United Provinces. In Guelderland, Holland, and Utrecht, he is President of the Nobles. He is Commander of all the Forces of the Republic by sea and land; and the Council of State, of which he is a member, is, in military affairs, almost entirely under his direction; he names all subaltern officers, and recommends those for higher appointments to the States General. In Guelderland, Utrecht, and Overyssel, which are called Provinces aux Reglemens, because, having submitted to Louis the Fourteenth, in 1672, they were not re-admitted to the Union, but with some sacrifice of their privileges, he appoints to offices, without the nomination of the cities; he is Governor General of the East and West Indian Companies, and names all the Directors from a treble number of candidates offered by the Proprietors. His name presides in all the courts of law; and his heart, it may be hoped, dictates in the noble right of pardoning.

This is the essential form of a government, which, for two centuries, has protected as great a share of civil and religious liberty as has been enjoyed in any other part of Europe, resisting equally the chances of dissolution, contained within itself; and the less dangerous schemes for its destruction, dictated by the jealousy of arbitrary interests without.

Its intricacy and delicacy are easily seen; yet, of the objections made to it on this account, more are founded on some maxims, assumed to be universal, than upon the separate considerations due to the condition of a separate people. How much the means of political happiness depend, for their effect, upon the civil characters of those for whom they are designed, has been very little seen, or insisted upon. It has been unnoticed, because such enquiries have not the brilliancy, or the facility, of general speculations, nor can command equal attention, nor equally reward systems with those parts of their importance, that consist in the immensity of the sphere, to which they pretend. To extend their arms is the flagitious ambition of warriors; to enlarge their systems is the ambition of writers, especially of political writers. A juster effort of understanding would aim at rendering the application of principles more exact, rather than more extensive, and would produce enquiries into the circumstances of national character and condition, that should regulate that application. A more modest estimate of human means of doing good would shew the gradations, through which all human advances must be made. A more severe integrity of views would stipulate, that the means should be as honest as the end, and would strive to ascertain, from the moral and intellectual character of a people, the degree of political happiness, of which they are capable; a process, without which projected advances become obstructions; and the philosopher begins his experiment, for the amelioration of society, as prematurely as the sculptor would polish his statue before he had delineated the features.

Whether the constitution of the United Provinces is exactly as good an one as the people are capable of enjoying, can be determined only after a much longer and abler enquiry than we could make; but it seemed proper to observe, that, in judging this question, it is not enough to discover better forms of government, without finding also some reason to believe, that the intellectual and moral condition of the people would secure the existence of those better forms. In the mean time, they, who make the enquiry, may be assured, that, under the present ^[1] government, there is a considerable degree of political liberty, though political happiness is not permitted by the present circumstances of Europe; that the general adoption of the Stadtholder's measures by the States has been unduly mentioned to shew an immoderate influence, for that, in point of fact, his measures are often rejected; that this rejection produces no public agitation, nor can those, who differ from him in opinion, be successfully represented as enemies to their country; that there are very few offices, which enable private persons to become rich, at the expence of the public, so as to have a different interest from them; that the sober industry and plain manners of the people prevent them from looking to political conduct of any sort as a means of improving their fortunes; that, for these reasons, the intricate connections between the parts of their government are less inconvenient than may be supposed, since good measures will not be obstructed, or bad ones supported, for corrupt purposes, though misconceptions may sometimes produce nearly the same effect; that conversation is perfectly free; and that the habit of watching the strength of parties, for the purpose of joining the strongest and persecuting the weakest, does not occupy the minds of any numerous classes amongst them.

[1]June 1794.

We saw no other apartments than those of the States General, the Prince of Orange being then in his own. The Princess was at a seat in Guelderland, with her daughter-in-law, the wife of the Hereditary Prince, who had been indisposed since the surprise of the Dutch troops at Menin, on the 12th of September 1793, in which affair her husband was engaged. When the officer, who brought the first accounts, which were not written, to the Hague, had related that the younger prince was wounded, the Hereditary Princess enquired, with great eagerness, concerning his brother. The officer indiscreetly replied, that he knew nothing of him; which the Princess supposed to imply, that he was dead; and she has since been somewhat an invalid.

Though the salaries enjoyed by the Prince of Orange, in consequence of his offices, are by no means considerable, he is enabled, by his patrimonial estates, to maintain some modest splendour. The Court is composed of a grand master, a marshal, a grand equerry, ten chamberlains, five ladies of honour, and six gentlemen of the chamber. Ten young men, with the title of pages, are educated at the expence of the Prince, in a house adjoining his manege. As Captain-General, he is allowed eight adjutants, and, as Admiral, three.

We could not learn the amount of the income enjoyed by the Prince of Orange, which must, indeed, be very variable, arising chiefly from his own estates. The greater part of these are in the province of Zealand, where seventeen villages and part of the town of Breda are his property. The fortifications of several places there are said to have been chiefly erected at the expence of the Orange family. His farms in that neighbourhood suffered greatly in the campaign of 1792, and this part of his income has since been much diminished. The management of his revenues, derived from possessions in Germany, affords employment to four or five persons, at an Office, separate from his ordinary Treasury; and he had estates in the Low Countries. All this is but the wreck of a fortune, honourably diminished by William the First of Orange, in the contest with Spain; the remembrance of whom may, perhaps, involuntarily influence one's opinion of his successors.

During May, the western gate of the palace is ornamented, according to ancient custom, with garlands for each person of the Orange family. Chaplets, with the initials of each, in flowers, are placed under large coronets, upon green flag-staffs. We passed by when they were taking these down, and perceived that all the ornaments could scarcely have cost five shillings. So humble are the Dutch notions of pageantry.

Among the offices included within the walls of the court is a printing-house, in which the States General and the States of Holland employ only persons sworn to secrecy as to the papers committed to them. It may seem strange to require secrecy from those, whose art is chiefly useful in conferring publicity; but the truth is, that many papers are printed here, which are never communicated to the public, the States employing the press for the sake of its cheapness, and considering that any of their members, who would shew a printed paper, would do the same with a written one.

In a large square, near the court, is the cabinet of natural history, of which we have not the knowledge necessary for giving a description. It is arranged in small rooms, which are opened, at twelve o'clock, to those, who have applied the day before. One article, said to be very rare, and certainly very beautiful, was an animal of the Deer species, about fourteen inches high, exquisitely shaped and marked, and believed to be at its full growth. It was brought from the coast of Africa.

The Stadtholder's library was accidentally shut, owing to the illness of the librarian. The picture gallery was open, but of paintings we have resolved to exempt our readers from any mention. The former is said to contain eight thousand volumes, and fourteen thousand prints in portfolios. Among the illuminated MSS. in vellum is one, used by the sanguinary Catherine De Medicis and her children; and another, which belonged to Isabella of Castille, the grandmother of Charles the Fifth. What must be oddly placed in a library is a suit of armour of Francis the First, which was once in the cabinet of Christina of Sweden. Though this collection is the private property of the Prince, the librarian is permitted to lend books to persons, known to him and likely to use them advantageously for science.

We passed a long morning in walking through the streets of this place, which contain probably more magnificent houses than can be found in the same space in any city of Northern Europe. The Grand Voorbout is rather, indeed, two series of palaces than a street. Between two broad carriage-ways, which pass immediately along the sides, are several alleys of tall lime trees, canopying walks, first laid out by Charles the Fifth, in 1536, and ordered to be carefully preserved, the placard being still extant, which directs the punishment of offenders against them. It would be tedious to mention the many splendid buildings in this and the neighbouring streets. Among the most conspicuous is the present residence of the British Ambassadors, built by Huguetan, the celebrated banker of Louis the Fourteenth, and that of the Russian Minister, which was erected by the Pensionary Barneveldt. But the building, which was intended to exceed all others at the Hague, is the Hotel of the Prince of Nassau Weilbourg; who, having married the sister of the Prince of Orange, bought, at an immense expence, eight good houses, facing the Voorbout, in order to erect upon their scite a magnificent palace. What has been already built of this is extremely fine, in the crescent form; but a German, arriving to the expenditure of a Dutch fortune, probably did not estimate it by Dutch prices. It was begun eighteen years since, and, for the last twelve, has not proceeded.

Superb public buildings occur at almost every step through the Hague. At one end of the terrace, on which we were lodged, is the Doelen, a spacious mansion, opening partly upon the Tournois Veld, or Place of Tournaments. The burgesses here keep their colours, and, what is remarkable, still preserve the insignia of the Toison d'Or, given to them by Charles the Fifth. Our William the Third being admitted, at ten years of age, to the right of a burgess here, was invested with this order by the Burgomaster. At the other end of the terrace is the palace, built for Prince Maurice of Nassau, upon his return from the government of Brazil, by Kampfen, Lord of Rambroek, architect of the Stadthouse at Amsterdam. The interior of this building was destroyed by fire, in the commencement of the present century; but, the stately walls of stone and brick being uninjured, the rooms were restored by the proprietors, assisted by a lottery. It is an instance of the abundance of buildings here, that this palace is now chiefly used as a place of meeting, for the œconomical branch of the society of Haerlem, and for a society, instituted here, for the encouragement of Dutch poetry.

The number of public buildings is much increased by the houses, which the eighteen towns provide for their Deputies, sent to the States of the Province. These are called the Logements of the several towns; and there has been a great deal of emulation, as to their magnificence. Amsterdam and Rotterdam have the finest.

The churches are not remarkable for antiquity, or grandeur. A congregation of English Protestants have their worship performed, in the manner of the Dissenters, in a small chapel near the Vyver, where we had the satisfaction to hear their venerable pastor, the Rev. Dr. M'Clean.

The residence of a Court at the Hague renders the appearance of the inhabitants less national and characteristic than elsewhere. There are few persons in the streets, who, without their orange cockades, might not be mistaken for English; but ribbons of this colour are almost universal, which some wear in their hats, and some upon a button-hole of the coat. The poorest persons, and there are more poor here than elsewhere, find something orange-coloured to shew. Children have it placed upon their caps; so that the practice is carried to an extent as ridiculous, as the prohibition was in 1785, when the magistrates ordered, that nothing orange-coloured should be worn, or shewn, not even fruits, or flowers, and that carrots should not be exposed to sale with the ends outwards.

The distinctions between political classes are very strongly marked and preserved in Holland. We were informed, that there are some villages, in which the wearing of a cockade, and others, in which the want of one, would expose a passenger, especially a native, to insults. In the cities, where those of both parties must transact business together, the distinction is not much observed. In Amsterdam, the friends of the Stadtholder do not wear cockades. For the most part, the seamen, farmers and labouring classes in the towns are attached to the Orange family, whose opponents are chiefly composed of the opulent merchants and tradesmen.

A history, or even a description of the two parties, if we were enabled to give it, would occupy too much space here; but it may be shortly mentioned, that the original, or chief cause of the dissension was, as might be expected, entirely of a commercial nature. The English interest had an unanimous popularity in Holland, about the year 1750. In the war of 1756, the French, having sustained a great loss of shipping, employed Dutch vessels to bring the produce of their American islands to Europe, and thus established a considerable connection with the merchants of Amsterdam and Rotterdam. The Court of Versailles took care, that the stream of French wealth, which they saw setting into the United Provinces, should carry with it some French politics; while the wealth itself effected more than all their contrivance, and gradually produced a kindness for France, especially in the province of Holland, through which it chiefly circulated. The English Ministers took all Dutch ships, having French property on board; and the popularity of England was for a time destroyed. Several maritime towns, probably with some instigation from France, demanded a war against England. The friends of the Stadtholder prevented this; and from that time the Prince began to share whatever unpopularity the measures of the English Ministers, or the industry of the English traders, could excite in a rival and a commercial country.

The capture of the French West India islands soon after removed the cause of the dispute; but the effects of it survived in the jealousy of the great cities towards the Stadtholder, and were much aggravated by the losses of their merchants, at the commencement of hostilities between England and the United Provinces, in 1780. The Dutch fleet being then unprepared to sail, and every thing, which could float, having been sent out of the harbours of Yorkshire and Lincolnshire to intercept their trading ships, the fortunes of many of the most opulent houses in Holland were severely shook, and all their members became the enemies of the Stadtholder.

If to these circumstances it is added, that the province of Holland, which pays fifty-eight parts of every hundred, levied by taxes, has an ambition for acquiring greater influence in the general government, than is bestowed by its single vote, we have probably all the original causes of the party distinctions in Holland, though others may have been incorporated with others, during a long series of events and many violent struggles of the passions.

The Stadtholder, who has had the misfortune to attract so much attention by his difficulties, is said to be a man of plain manners and sound understanding, neither capable of political intrigue, nor inclined to it. His office requires, especially during a war, a great deal of substantial, personal labour, to which he devotes himself earnestly and continually, but which he has not the vigour to bear, without an evident oppression of spirits. We saw him at a parade of the Guards, and it is not necessary to be told of his labours to perceive how much he is affected by them. It is scarcely possible to conceive a countenance more expressive of a mind, always urged, always pressed upon, and not often receiving the relief of complete confidence in its efforts. His person is short and extremely corpulent; his air in conversation modest and mild. This attendance upon the parade is his chief exercise, or relaxation at the Hague, where he frequently passes ten of the hours between five in a morning and nine at night in his cabinet. He comes, accompanied by one or two officers, and his presence produces no crowd. When we had viewed the parade and returned home, we saw him walking under our windows towards the Voorbout, accompanied by an officer, but not followed by a single person.

Conversation does not turn so much upon the family of the Stadtholder, as that we could acquire any distinct opinions of the other parts of it. Of his humanity and temper, there was sufficient proof, in 1787, when he returned to the Hague and was master of the persons of those, who had lately banished him. Indeed, the conduct of both parties, with respect to the personal safety of their adversaries, was honourable to the character of the nation. The States of Holland, during the prevalence of their authority, did not pretend, according to the injustice of similar cases, to any right of destroying the friends of the Stadtholder, who were in their hands; the Stadtholder, when he returned, and when the public detestation of his adversaries was at an height, which would have permitted any measures against them, demanded no other retribution, than that seventeen, named in a list, should be declared incapable of holding offices under the Republic.

One of the best excursions from the Hague is made to the Maison du Bois, a small palace of the Prince of Orange, in a wood, which commences almost at the northern gate of the town. This wood is called a park, but it is open to the public roads from Leyden, Haerlem and Amsterdam, which pass through its noble alleys of oak and beech. It is remarkable for having so much attracted the regard of Philip the Second, that, in the campaign of 1574, he ordered his officers not to destroy it; and is probably the only thing, not destined for himself, of which this ample destroyer of human kind and of his own family ever directed the preservation. Louis the Fourteenth, probably having heard the praises of this care, left the mall of Utrecht to be a monument of similar tenderness, during an unprovoked invasion, which cost ten thousand lives.

The apartments of the Maison du Bois are very variously furnished. The best are fitted up with a light grey sattin, imbossed with Chinese birds and plants, in silk and feathers of the most beautiful tints; the window curtains, screens and coverings of the sophas and chairs are the same, and the frames of the latter are also of Chinese workmanship. Nothing more delicate and tasteful can be conceived; but, that you may not be quite distracted with admiration, the carpets are such as an English merchant would scarcely receive into a parlour. The furniture of the state bed-chamber is valuable, and has once been splendid; a light balustrade of curious Japan work, about three feet high, runs across the room, and divides that part, in which the bed stands, from the remainder. The Princess's drawing-room, in which card parties are sometimes held, is well embellished with paintings, and may be called a superb apartment; but here again there is an instance of the incompleteness, said to be observable in the furniture of all rooms, out of England. Of four card tables two are odd ones, and literally would be despised in a broker's shop in London. The great glory of the house is the Salle d'Orange, an oblong saloon of noble height, with pannels, painted by nine celebrated painters of the Flemish and Dutch schools, among whom Van Tulden, a pupil of Rubens, has observed his manner so much in a workshop of Vulcan and in a figure of Venus forming a trophy, that they have been usually attributed to his master. The subjects on the pannels and ceiling are all allegorical, and complimentary, for the most part, to the Princes of the House of Orange, especially to Frederic Henry, the son of the first William and the grandson of the Admiral Coligny. It was at the expence of his widow, that the house was built and the saloon thus ornamented.

Almost all the rooms are decorated with family portraits, of which some have just been contributed by the pencil of the Hereditary Princess. A large piece represents herself, taking a likeness of the Princess her mother-in-law, and includes what is said to be an admirable portrait of her husband. On the six doors of the grand cabinet are six whole lengths of ladies of the House of Orange, exhibited in allegorical characters. The doors being covered by the paintings, when that, by which you have entered, is shut, you cannot tell the way back again. A portrait of Louisa de Coligny, the widow of William the First, is enriched with a painter's pun; she is presented by Hope with a branch of an orange tree, containing only one orange; from which the spectator is to learn, that her son was her only hope.

The most delightful outlet from the Hague is towards Schevening, a village on the sea-shore, nearly two miles distant, the road to which has been often and properly celebrated as a noble monument of tasteful grandeur. Commencing at the canal, which surrounds the Hague, it proceeds to the village through a vista so exactly straight, that the steeple of Schevening, the central object at the end of it, is visible at the first entrance. Four rows of lofty elms are planted along the road, of which the two central lines form this perfect and most picturesque vista; the others shelter paths on each side of it, for foot passengers.

The village itself, containing two or three hundred houses of fishermen and peasants, would be a spectacle, for its neatness, any where but in Holland. There is no square, or street of the most magnificent houses in London, that can equal it for an universal appearance of freshness. It is positively bright with cleanliness; though its only street opens upon the sea, and is the resort of hundreds of fishermen. We passed a most delightful day at a little inn upon the beach, sometimes looking into the history of the village, which is very ancient; then enquiring into its present condition; and then enjoying the prospect of the ocean, boundless to our view, on one side, and appearing to be but feebly restrained by a long tract of low white coast on the other.

The sea beats furiously upon the beach here, which has no doubt been much raised by art for the defence of the village. There is at least no other way of accounting for its security, since 1574, between which year and the latter end of the preceding century, it sustained six inundations. The first, in 1470, demolished a church; the last washed away an hundred and twenty houses; notwithstanding which, the inhabitants built again upon their stormy shore; and their industry, that, at length, protected them from the sea, enabled them to endure also the more inveterate ravages of the Spaniards. On this beach lie occasionally great numbers of herring busses, too stoutly built to be injured by touching it. We suspect our information to have been exaggerated; but we heard on the spot, that no less than one hundred and five belong to this village of little more than two hundred houses, or are managed by agents in it. About forty were set on float by the tide in the afternoon, and, being hauled by means of anchors beyond a very heavy surf, were out of sight, before we left the place.

It was amusing to see the persevering, effectual, but not very active exertions of the seamen in this business, which could not often be more difficult than it then was, when a strong wind blew directly upon the shore. We here first perceived, what we had many other opportunities of observing, that, notwithstanding the general admiration of Dutch industry, it is of a nature which would scarcely acquire that name in England. A Dutchman of the labouring class is, indeed, seldom seen unemployed; but we never observed one man working hard, according to the English notion of the term. Perseverance, carefulness, and steadiness are theirs, beyond any rivalship; the vehemence, force, activity and impatience of an English sailor, or workman, are unknown to them. You will never see a Dutchman enduring the fatigue, or enjoying the rest, of a London porter. Heavy burthens, indeed, they do not carry. At Amsterdam, where carriages are even somewhat obnoxious, a cask, holding four or five gallons of liquor, is removed by a horse and a sledge.

On our way from Schevening, where a dinner costs more than at an hotel in the Hague, we turned a little to the right to see Portland Gardens, once the favourite resort of William and Mary; and said to be laid out in the English taste. They are now a bad specimen even of Dutch gardens. The situation is unusually low, having on one hand the raised bank of the Schevening road, and, on another, the sand hills of the coast. Between these, the moisture of the sea air is held for a long time, and finally drawn down upon the earth. The artificial ornaments are stained and decaying; and the grass and weeds of the neglected plots are capable only of a putrid green. Over walks of a black mould you are led to the orangery, where there is more decay, and may look through the windows of the green-house, to perceive how every thing is declining there. Some pavilions, provided with water spouts, are then to be seen; and, if you have the patience to wait the conclusion of an operation, intended to surprise you, you may count how many of the pipes refuse to perform their office.

Nearer to the Hague, we were stopped to pay a toll of a few doights; a circumstance which was attended with this proof of civility. Having passed in the morning, without the demand, we enquired why it should be made now. The gatherer replied, that he had seen us pass, but, knowing that we must return by the same way, had avoided giving more trouble than was necessary. This tax is paid for the support of the bank, or digue, over which the road passes; a work, begun on the 1st of May 1664, and finished on the 5th of December 1665, by the assistance of a loan granted for the enterprise. The breadth of the road is thirty-two yards.

The next day, after seeing the relief of the Stadtholder's garde du corps, the privates of which wear feathered hats, with uniforms of scarlet and gold, we left the Hague, with much admiration of its pleasantness and quiet grandeur, and took the roof of the trechtschuyt for Leyden.

[LEYDEN.]

Three hours pleasant floating along a canal, adorned with frequent country houses, gardens, summer-houses and square balconies, or rather platforms, projecting over the water, within an hand's breadth of its level, brought us to this city, which was esteemed the second in Holland, before Rotterdam gained its present extent. Leyden is, however, so large, that a traveller is likely to have a walk of half a league to his inn; and those who arrive, as we did, at the time of the fair, may find the procession not very pleasant. We increased our difficulties by turning away from the dirt and incivility of what was called the best inn, and did not afterwards find a better, though such, it seems, might have been had.

Having, at length, become contented with the worst, we went towards the fair, of which we had as yet seen only the crowd. The booths, being disposed under trees and along the borders of canals, made the whole appearance differ from that of an English fair, though not quite so much as we had expected. The stock of the shopkeepers makes a greater distinction. There were several booths filled with silversmiths' and jewellers' wares, to the amount of, probably, some thousand pounds each. Large French clocks in or moulu and porcelain were among their stores. All the trades displayed the most valuable articles, that could be asked for in similar shops in large cities. We had the pleasure to see great quantities of English goods, and there were English names over three, or four of the booths.

The Dutch dresses were now become so familiar to us, that the crowd seemed as remarkable for the number of other persons in it, as for the abundance of peasants in their holiday finery, which, it is pleasant to know, displays the ornamental relics of several generations, fashion having very little influence in Holland. The fair occupied about a fourth part of the town, which we soon left to see the remainder. Two streets, parallel to each other, run through its whole length, and include the few public halls of an University, which would scarcely be known to exist, if it had no more conspicuous objects than its buildings. The Dutch universities contain no endowed foundations; so that the professors, who have their salaries from the States, live in private houses, and the students in lodgings. The academical dress is worn only in the schools, and by the professors. The library, to which Joseph Scaliger was a benefactor, is open only once in a week, and then for no more than two hours. It is the constant policy of the Dutch government, to make strangers leave as much money as possible behind them; and Leyden was once so greatly the resort of foreigners, that it was thought important not to let them read for nothing what they must otherwise be obliged to buy. The University is, of course, declining much, under this commercial wisdom of the magistrates.

There are students, however, of many nations and religions, no oaths being imposed, except upon the professors. Physic and botany especially are said to be cultivated here with much success; and there is a garden, to which not only individuals, but the East India Company, industriously contribute foreign plants. The salaries of the professors, who receive, besides, fees from the students, are nearly two hundred pounds a-year. The government of the University is in the Rector, who is chosen out of three persons returned by the Senate to the States; the Senate consists of the professors; and, on extraordinary occasions, the Senate and Rector are directed by Curators, who are the agents for the States.

The chief street in the town is of the crescent form, so that, with more public buildings, it would be a miniature resemblance of High-street, Oxford. The town-house is built with many spires, and with almost Chinese lightness. We did not see the interior of this, or, indeed, of any other public buildings; for, in the morning, when curiosity was to be indulged, our fastidiousness as to the inns returned, and induced us to take a passage for Haerlem. The MSS. of the Dutch version of the Bible, which are known to be deposited here, could not have been shewn, being opened only once in three years, when the Deputies of the Synod and States attend; but we might have seen, in the town-house, some curious testimonies of the hardships and perseverance of the inhabitants, during the celebrated blockade of five months, in 1574, in consideration of which the University was founded.

After viewing some well-filled booksellers' shops, and one wide street of magnificent houses, we again made half the circuit of this extensive city, in the way to the trechtschuyt for

[HAERLEM.]

The canal between Leyden and this place is nearly the pleasantest of the great number, which connect all the towns of the province with each other, and render them to the traveller a series of spectacles, almost as easily visited as the amusements of one large metropolis. Though this is said to be one of the lowest parts of Holland, the country does not appear to have suffered more than the rest by water. The many country seats, which border the canals, are also proofs that it is thought to be well secured; yet this is the district, which has been proved, by indisputable observations, to be lower than the neighbouring sea, even in the profoundest calm. During the voyage, which was of four hours, we passed under several bridges, and saw numbers of smaller canals, crossing the country in various directions; but the passage of a trechtschuyt is not delayed for an instant by a bridge, the tow-rope being loosened from the boat, on one side, and immediately caught again, on the other, if it should not be delivered by some person, purposely stationed on the arch. It is not often that a canal makes any bend in its course; when it does so, there are small, high posts at the point, round which the tow-rope is drawn; and, that the cord may not be destroyed by the friction, the posts support perpendicular rollers, which are turned by its motion. Such posts and rollers might be advantageously brought into use in England. On most of the canals are half-way villages, where passengers may stop, about five minutes, for refreshment; but they will be left behind, without any ceremony, if they exceed the limited time, which the boatman employs in exchanging letters for such of the neighbouring country houses as have not packet boxes placed on the banks.

Haerlem, like Leyden, is fortified by brick walls, but both seem to be without the solid earthen works, that constitute the strength of modern fortresses. A few pieces of cannon are planted near the gate, in order to command the bridge of a wide fossé; and the gate-house itself is a stout building, deep enough to render the passage underneath somewhat dark. There is otherwise very little appearance of the strength, that resisted the Duke of Alva, for twelve months, and exasperated his desire of vengeance so far, that the murder of the inhabitants, who at last surrendered to his promises of protection, could alone appease it.

A narrow street leads from the gate to the market-place, where two pieces of cannon are planted before the guard-house; the first precaution against internal commotion, which we had seen in the country. Haerlem had a great share in the disputes of 1787, and is said to adhere more fully than any other city to the Anti-Stadtholderian politics of that period.

The market-place is very spacious, and surrounds the great church, perhaps, the largest sacred building in the province of Holland. The lofty oak roof is marked with dates of the early part of the sixteenth century. The organ, sometimes said to be the best in Europe, is of unusual size, but has more power of sound than sweetness. The pipes are silvered, and the body carefully painted; for organs are the only objects in Dutch churches, which are permitted to be shewy. They are now building, in the great church at Rotterdam, a rival to this instrument, and need not despair of surpassing it.

A great part of the congregation sit upon chairs in the large aisle, which does not seem to be thought a much inferior place to the other parts. During an evening service, at which we were present, this was nearly filled; and while every person took a separate seat, women carried chauffepieds, or little wooden boxes, with pans of burning peat in them, to the ladies. This was on the 4th of June. The men enter the church with their hats on, and some wear them, during the whole service, with the most disgusting and arrogant hardihood.

We passed a night at Haerlem, which is scarcely worth so long a stay, though one street, formed upon the banks of a canal, consists of houses more uniformly grand, than any out of the Hague, and surprises you with its extensive magnificence at a place, where there is little other appearance of wealth and none of splendour. But the quietness of the Great in Holland is daily astonishing to a stranger, who sometimes passes through rows of palaces, without meeting a carriage, or a servant. The inhabitants of those palaces have, however, not less earnest views, than they who are more agitated; the difference between them is, that the views of the former are only such as their situation enables them to gratify, without the agitation of the latter. They can sit still and wait for the conclusion of every year, at which they are to be richer, or rather are to have much more money, than in the preceding one. They know, that, every day the silent progress of interest adds so much to their principal; and they are content to watch the course of time, for it is time alone that varies their wealth, the single object of their attention. There can be no motive, but its truth, for repeating the trite opinion of the influence of avarice in Holland: we expected, perhaps, with some vanity, to have found an opportunity for contradicting it; but are able only to add another testimony of its truth. The infatuation of loving money not as a means, but as an end, is paramount in the mind of almost every Dutchman, whatever may be his other dispositions and qualities; the addiction to it is fervent, inveterate, invincible, and universal from youth to the feeblest old age.

Haerlem has little trade, its communication with the sea being through Amsterdam, which latter place has always been able to obstruct the reasonable scheme of cutting a canal through the four miles of land, that separate the former from the ocean. Its manufactures of silk and thread are much less prosperous than formerly. Yet there are no symptoms of decay, or poverty, and the environs are well covered with gardens especially on the banks of the Sparen, of which one branch flows through the town and the other passes under the walls. Some charitable institutions, for the instruction and employment of children, should be mentioned also, to assuage the general censure of a too great fondness for money.

The house of Laurance Coster, who is opposed to Faust, Gottenburgh and Scheffer, for the honour of having invented the art of printing, is near the great church and is still inhabited by a bookseller. An inscription, not worth copying, asserts him to be the inventor. The house, which is small and stands in a row with others, must have received its present brick front in some time subsequent to that of Coster.

[AMSTERDAM.]

The voyage between Haerlem and this place is less pleasant, with respect to the country, than many of the other trips, but more gratifying to curiosity. For great part of the way, the canal passes between the lake, called Haerlemer Maer, and a large branch of the Zuyder Zee, called the River Y. In one place, the neck of land, which separates these two waters, is so thin, that a canal cannot be drawn through it; and, near this, there is a village, where passengers leave their first boat, another waiting for them at the renewal of the canal, within a quarter of a mile. Here, as upon other occasions of the same sort, nearly as much is paid for the carriage of two or three trunks between the boats, as for the whole voyage; and there is an Ordonnatie to authorize the price; for the Magistrates have considered, that those, who have much baggage, are probably foreigners, and may be thus made to support many of the natives. The Dutch themselves put their linen into a velvet bag, called a Rysack, and for this accordingly no charge is made.

The Half Wegen Sluice is the name of this separation between two vast waters, both of which have gained considerably upon their shores, and, if united, would be irresistible. At the narrowest part, it consists pile-work and masonry, to the thickness of probably forty feet. On this spot the spectator has, on his left hand, the Y, which, though called a river, is an immense inundation of the Zuyder Zee, and would probably carry a small vessel, without interruption, into the German ocean. On the other hand, is the Haerlem lake, about twelve miles long and nine broad, on which, during the siege of Haerlem, the Dutch and Spaniards maintained fleets, and fought battles. Extending as far as Leyden, there is a passage upon it from that city to Amsterdam, much shorter than by the canal, but held to be dangerous. Before the year 1657, there was, however, no other way, and it was probably the loss of the Prince of Bohemia and the danger of his dethroned father upon the lake, that instigated the making of the canal.

This sluice is one of several valuable posts, by which Amsterdam may be defended against a powerful army, and was an important station, during the approach of the Duke of Brunswick in 1787, when this city was the last, which surrendered. All the roads being formed upon dikes, or embankments, may be defended by batteries, which can be attacked only by narrow columns and in front. The Half Wegen Sluice was, however, easily taken by the Duke of Brunswick, his opponents having neglected to place gun-boats on the Haerlem lake, over which he carried eight hundred men in thirty boats, and surprised the Dutch before day-break, on the morning of the first of October. This was one of his real assaults, but there were all together eleven made on that day, and, on the next, the city proposed to surrender.

Beyond the sluice, the canal passes several breaches, made by inundations of the Y, and not capable of being drained, or repaired. In these places the canal is separated from the inundations either by piles, or floating planks. None of the breaches were made within the memory of the present generation, yet the boatmen have learned to speak of them with horror.

There is nothing magnificent, or grand, in the approach to Amsterdam, or the prospect of the city. The sails of above an hundred windmills, moving on all sides, seem more conspicuous than the public buildings of this celebrated capital.

The trechtschuyt having stopped on the outside of the gate, we waited for one of the public coaches, which are always to be had by sending to a livery stable, but do not stand in the street for fares. It cost half-a-crown for a drive of about two miles into the city; the regulated price is a guilder, or twenty-pence. Our direction was to the Doolen; but the driver chose to take us to another inn, in the same street, which we did not discover to be otherwise called, till we had become satisfied with it.

Nearly all the chief thorough-fares of Amsterdam are narrow, but the carriages are neither so numerous as in other places of the same size, nor suffered to be driven with the same speed; so that, though there is no raised pavement, foot passengers are as safe as elsewhere. There are broad terraces to the streets over the two chief canals, but these are sometimes encumbered by workshops, placed immediately over the water, between which and the houses the owners maintain an intercourse of packages and planks, with very little care about the freedom of the passage. This, indeed, may be constantly observed of the Dutch: they will never, either in their societies, or their business, employ their time, for a moment, in gratifying the little malice, or shewing the little envy, or assuming the little triumphs, which fill so much of life with unnecessary miseries; but they will seldom step one inch out of their way, or surrender one moment of their time, to save those, whom they do not know, from any inconvenience. A Dutchman, throwing cheeses into his warehouse, or drawing iron along the path-way, will not stop, while a lady, or an infirm person passes, unless he perceives somebody inclined to protect them; a warehouseman trundling a cask, or a woman in the favourite occupation of throwing water upon her windows, will leave it entirely to the passengers to take care of their limbs, or their clothes.

The canals themselves, which are the ornaments of other Dutch cities, are, for the most part, the nuisances of Amsterdam. Many of them are entirely stagnant, and, though deep, are so laden with filth, that, on a hot day, the feculence seems pestilential. Our windows opened upon two, but the scent very soon made us willing to relinquish the prospect. The bottoms are so muddy, that a boat-hook, drawn up, perhaps, through twelve feet of water, leaves a circle of slime at the top, which is not lost for many minutes. It is not unusual to see boats, laden with this mud, passing during mid-day, under the windows of the most opulent traders; and the fetid cargoes never disturb the intense studies of the counting-houses within.

After this distaste of the streets and canals of Amsterdam, it was a sort of duty to see, what is the glory of the city, the interior of the Stadthouse; but we lost this spectacle, by a negligence of that severe punctuality, in which the Dutch might be usefully imitated throughout the world. Our friends had obtained for us a ticket of admission at ten; we called upon them about half an hour afterwards; but, as the ride from their house would have required ten minutes more, the time of this ticket was thought to be elapsed. We would not accept one, which was offered to be obtained for another day, being unwilling to render it possible, that those, who were loading us with the sincerest civilities, should witness another apparent instance of inattention.

The Stadthouse, as to its exterior, is a plain stone building, attracting attention chiefly from its length, solidity and height. The front is an hundred and eight paces long. It has no large gate, but several small ones, and few statues, that would be observed, except one of Atlas on the top. The tales, as to the expence of the building, are inexhaustible. The foundation alone, which is entirely of piles, is said to have cost a million of guilders, or nearly ninety thousand pounds, and the whole edifice treble that sum. Its contents, the stock of the celebrated Bank, are estimated at various amounts, of which we will not repeat the lowest.

The Exchange is an humble building, and not convenient of access. The Post Office is well situated, upon a broad terrace, near the Stadthouse, and seems to be properly laid out for its use.

None of the churches are conspicuous for their structure; but the regulation, with respect to their ministers, should be more known. Two are assigned to each, and all throughout the city have equal and respectable salaries.

At a distance from the Exchange are some magnificent streets, raised on the banks of canals, nearly equalling those of the Hague for the grandeur of houses, and much exceeding in length the best of Leyden and Haerlem. These are the streets, which must give a stranger an opinion of the wealth of the city, while the Port, and that alone, can display the extensiveness of its commerce. The shops and the preparations for traffic in the interior have a mean appearance to those, who try them by the standard of London conveniences and elegance.

The best method of seeing the Port is to pass down it in a boat to some of the many towns, that skirt the Zuyder Zee. One convenience, easy to be had every where, is immediately visible from the quays. Small platforms of planks supported by piles project from the shore between the vessels, which are disposed with their heads towards the sides of these little bridges; the furthest has thus a communication with the quay, and, if the cargo is not of very heavy articles, may be unladen at the same time with the others. The port is so wide, that, though both sides are thronged with shipping, the channel in the middle is, at least, as broad as the Thames at London Bridge; but the harbour does not extend to more than half the length of the Pool at London, and seems to contain about half the number of vessels. The form of the port is, however, much more advantageous for a display of shipping, which may be here seen nearly at one glance in a fine bay of the Zuyder.

After a sail of about an hour, we landed at Saardam, a village celebrated for the Dockyards, which supply Amsterdam with nearly all its fleets. A short channel carries vessels of the greatest burthen from Saardam to the Zuyder Zee, which the founders of the place took care not to approach too nearly; and the terrace at the end of this channel is prepared for the reception of cannon, that must easily defend it from any attack by sea. Though the neighbourhood of a dockyard might be supposed a sufficient antidote to cleanliness, the neatness of this little town renders it a spectacle even to the Dutch themselves. The streets are so carefully swept, that a piece of orange peel would be noticed upon the pavement, and the houses are washed and painted to the highest polish of nicety. Those, who are here in a morning, or at night, may probably see how many dirty operations are endured for the sake of this excessive cleanliness.

We were shewn nearly round the place, and, of course, to the cottage, in which the indefatigable Peter the First of Russia resided, when he was a workman in the dockyard. It is a tenement of two rooms, standing in a part of the village, so very mean, that the alleys near it are not cleaner, than those of other places. An old woman lives in the cottage, and subsists chiefly by shewing it to visitors, amongst whom have been the present Grand Duke and Duchess of Russia; for the Court of Petersburgh acknowledge it to have been the residence of Peter, and have struck a medal in commemoration of so truly honourable a palace. The old woman has received one of these medals from the present Empress, together with a grant of a small annuity to encourage her care of the cottage.

We passed an agreeable afternoon, at an inn on the terrace, from whence pleasure vessels and passage boats were continually departing for Amsterdam, and had a smart sail, on our return, during a cloudy and somewhat a stormy sunset. The approach to Amsterdam, on this side, is as grand as that from Haerlem is mean, half the circuit of the city, and all its spires, being visible at once over the crowded harbour. The great church of Haerlem is also seen at a small distance, on the right. The Amstel, a wide river, which flows through the city into the harbour, fills nearly all the canals, and is itself capable of receiving ships of considerable burthen: one of the bridges over it, and a terrace beyond, are among the few pleasant walks enjoyed by the inhabitants. The Admiralty, an immense building, in the interior of which is the dockyard, stands on this terrace, or quay; and the East India Company have their magazine here, instead of the interior of the city, where it would be benevolence to let its perfume counteract the noxiousness of the canals.

The government of Amsterdam is said to collect by taxes, rents and dues of various sorts, more than an English million and a half annually; and, though a great part of this sum is afterwards paid to the use of the whole Republic, the power of collecting and distributing it must give considerable consequence to the magistrates. The Senate, which has this power, consists of thirty-six members, who retain their seats during life, and were formerly chosen by the whole body of burghers; but, about two centuries ago, this privilege was surrendered to the Senate itself, who have ever since filled up the vacancies in their number by a majority of their own voices. The Echevins, who form the court of justice, are here chosen by the burghers out of a double number, nominated by the Senate: in the other cities, the Stadtholder, and not the burghers, makes this choice.

It is obvious, that when the City Senates, which return the Provincial States, and, through them, the States General, were themselves elected by the burghers, the legislature of the United Provinces had a character entirely representative; and, at present, a respect for public opinion is said to have considerable influence in directing the choice of the Senates.

The province of Holland, of which this city is the most important part, is supposed to contain 800,000 persons, who pay taxes to the amount of twenty-four millions of guilders, or two millions sterling, forming an average of two pounds ten shillings per person. In estimating the real taxation of a people, it is, however, necessary to consider the proportion of their consumption to their imports; for the duties, advanced upon imported articles, are not ultimately and finally paid till these are consumed. The frugal habits of the Dutch permit them to retain but a small part of the expensive commodities, which they collect; and the foreigners, to whom they are resold, pay, therefore, a large share of the taxation, which would be so enormous, if it was confined to the inhabitants. Among the taxes, really paid by themselves, are the following;—a land-tax of about four shillings and nine pence per acre; a sale-tax of eight per cent. upon horses, one and a quarter per cent. upon other moveables, and two and an half per cent. upon land and buildings; a tax upon inheritances out of the direct line, varying from two and an half to eleven per cent.; two per cent. upon every man's income; an excise of three pounds per hogshead upon wine, and a charge of two per cent. upon all public offices. The latter tax is not quite so popular here as in other countries, because many of these offices are actually purchased, the holders being compelled to buy stock to a certain amount, and to destroy the obligations. The excise upon coffee, tea and salt is paid annually by each family, according to the number of their servants.

The inhabitants of Amsterdam, and some other cities, pay also a tax, in proportion to their property, for the maintenance of companies of city-guards, which are under the orders of their own magistrates. In Amsterdam, indeed, taxation is somewhat higher than in other places. Sir William Temple was assured, that no less than thirty duties might be reckoned to have been paid there, before a certain dish could be placed upon a table at a tavern.

The exact sums, paid by the several provinces towards every hundred thousand guilders, raised for the general use, have been often printed. The share of Holland is 58,309 guilders and a fraction; that of Overyssel, which is the smallest, 3571 guilders and a fraction.

Of five colleges of Admiralty, established within the United Provinces, three are in Holland, and contribute of course to point out the pre-eminence of that province. It is remarkable, that neither of these supply their ships with provisions: They allow the captains to deduct about four-pence halfpenny per day from the pay of each sailor for that purpose; a regulation, which is never made injurious to the seamen by any improper parsimony, and is sometimes useful to the public, in a country where pressing is not permitted. A captain, who has acquired a character for generosity amongst the sailors, can muster crew in a few days, which, without such a temptation, could not be raised in as many weeks.

We cannot speak with exactness of the prices of provisions in this province, but they are generally said to be as high as in England. The charges at inns are the same as on the roads within an hundred miles of London, or, perhaps, something more. Port wine is not so common as a wine which they call Claret, but which is compounded of a strong red wine from Valencia, mixed with some from Bourdeaux. The general price for this is twenty pence English a bottle; three and four pence is the price for a much better sort. About half-a-crown per day is charged for each apartment; and logement is always the first article in a bill.

Private families buy good claret at the rate of about eighteen pence per bottle, and chocolate for two shillings per pound. Beef is sold for much less than in England, but is so poor that the Dutch use it chiefly for soup, and salt even that which they roast. Good white sugar is eighteen pence per pound. Bread is dearer than in England; and there is a sort, called milk bread, of uncommon whiteness, which costs nearly twice as much as our ordinary loaves. Herbs and fruits are much lower priced, and worse in flavour; but their colour and size are not inferior. Fish is cheaper than in our maritime counties, those excepted which are at a great distance from the metropolis. Coffee is very cheap, and is more used than tea. No kind of meat is so good as in England; but veal is not much inferior, and is often dressed as plainly and as well as with us. The innkeepers have a notion of mutton and lamb chops; but then it is à la Maintenon; and the rank oil of the paper is not a very delightful sauce. Butter is usually brought to table clarified, that is, purposely melted into an oil; and it is difficult to make them understand that it may be otherwise.

The Dutch have much more respect for English than for other travellers; but there is a jealousy, with respect to our commerce, which is avowed by those, who have been tutored to calm discussion, and may be perceived in the conversation of others, whenever the state of the two countries is noticed. This jealousy is greater in the maritime than in the other provinces, and in Amsterdam than in some of the other cities. Rotterdam has so much direct intercourse with England, as to feel, in some degree, a share in its interests.

Some of our excursions round Amsterdam were made in a curious vehicle; the body of a coach placed upon a sledge, and drawn by one horse. The driver walks by the side, with the reins in one hand, and in the other a wetted rope, which he sometimes throws under the sledge to prevent it from taking fire, and to fill up the little gaps in the pavement. The appearance of these things was so whimsical, that curiosity tempted us to embark in one; and, finding them laughed at by none but ourselves, the convenience of being upon a level with the shops, and with the faces that seemed to contain the history of the shops, induced us to use them again. There are great numbers of them, being encouraged by the magistrates, in preference to wheel carriages, and, as is said, in tenderness to the piled foundations of the city, the only one in Holland in which they are used. The price is eight pence for any distance within the city, and eight pence an hour for attendance.

Near Amsterdam is the small village of Ouderkirk, a place of some importance in the short campaign of 1787, being accessible by four roads, all of which were then fortified. It consists chiefly of the country houses of Amsterdam merchants, at one of which we passed a pleasant day. Having been but slightly defended, after the loss of the posts of Half Wegen and Amstelveen, it was not much injured by the Prussians; but there are many traces of balls thrown into it. The ride to it from Amsterdam is upon the chearful banks of the Amstel, which is bordered, for more than five miles, with gardens of better verdure and richer groves than had hitherto appeared. The village was spread with booths for a fair, though it was Sunday; and we were somewhat surprised to observe, that a people in general so gravely decorous as the Dutch, should not pay a stricter deference to the Sabbath. We here took leave of some friends, whose frank manners and obliging dispositions are remembered with much more delight than any other circumstances, relative to Amsterdam.

[UTRECHT.]

The passage from Amsterdam hither is of eight hours; and, notwithstanding the pleasantness of trechtschuyt conveyance, seemed somewhat tedious, after the habit of passing from city to city in half that time. The canal is, however, justly preferred to others, on account of the richness of its surrounding scenery; and it is pleasing to observe how gradually the country improves, as the distance from the province of Holland and from the sea increases. Towards Utrecht, the gardens rise from the banks of the canal, instead of spreading below its level, and the grounds maintain avenues and plantations of lofty trees. Vegetation is stronger and more copious; shrubs rise to a greater height; meadows display a livelier green; and the lattice-work of the bowery avenues, which occur so frequently, ceases to be more conspicuous than the foliage.

It was Whitsuntide, and the banks of the canal were gay with holiday people, riding in waggons and carts; the latter frequently carrying a woman wearing a painted hat as large as an umbrella, and a man with one in whimsical contrast clipped nearly close to the crown. The lady sometimes refreshed herself with a fan, and the gentleman, meanwhile, with a pipe of tobacco. Every village we passed resounded with hoarse music and the clatter of wooden shoes: among these the prettiest was Nieuversluys, bordering each side of the canal, with a white drawbridge picturesquely shadowed with high trees, and green banks sloping to the water's brim. Pleasure-boats and trechtschuyts lined the shores; and the windows of every house were thronged with broad faces. On the little terraces below were groups of smokers, and of girls in the neat trim Dutch dress, with the fair complexion and air of decorous modesty, by which their country-women are distinguished.

About half way from Amsterdam stands a small modern fortification; and it is an instance of Dutch carefulness, that grass had just been mowed even from the parapets of the batteries, and was made up in heaps within the works. Not far from it is an ancient castle of one tower, left in the state to which it was reduced during the contest with the Spaniards.

Near Utrecht, the ground has improved so much, that nothing but its evenness distinguishes it from other countries; and, at some distance eastward, the hills of Guelderland rise to destroy this last difference. The entrance into the city is between high terraces, from which steps descend to the canal; but the street is not wide enough to have its appearance improved by this sort of approach. Warehouses, formed under the terraces, shew also that the latter have been raised more for convenience than splendour.

The steeple of the great church, formerly a cathedral, excites, in the mean time, an expectation of dignity in the interior, where some considerable streets and another canal complete the air of an opulent city. It is not immediately seen, that a great part of the body of this cathedral has been destroyed, and that the canals, being subject to tides, have dirty walls during the ebb. The splendour, which might be expected in the capital of a province much inhabited by nobility, does not appear; nor is there, perhaps, any street equal to the best of Leyden and Haerlem; yet, in general beauty, the city is superior to either of these.

We arrived just before nine, at which hour a bell rings to denote the shutting of the larger gates; for the rules of a walled town are observed here, though the fortifications could be of little other use than to prevent a surprise by horse. The Chateau d'Anvers, at which we lodged, is an excellent inn, with a landlord, who tells, that he has walked sixty years in his own passage, and that he had the honour of entertaining the Marquis of Granby thirteen times, during the war of 1756. Though the Dutch inns are generally unobjectionable, there is an air of English completeness about this which the others do not reach.

Utrecht is an university, but with as little appearance of such an institution as Leyden. The students have no academical dress; and their halls, which are used only for lectures and exercises, are formed in the cloisters of the ancient cathedral. The chief sign of their residence in the place is, that the householders, who have lodgings to let, write upon a board, as is done at Leyden, Cubicula locanda. We were shewn round the town by a member of the university, who carefully avoided the halls; and we did not press to see them.

There are still some traces remaining of the Bishopric, which was once so powerful, as to excite the jealousy, or rather, perhaps, to tempt the avarice of Charles the Fifth, who seized upon many of its possessions. The use made of the remainder by the States General, is scarcely more justifiable; for the prebends still subsist, and are disposed of by sale to Lay Canons, who send delegates to the Provincial States, as if they had ecclesiastical characters.

The substantial remains of the Cathedral are one aisle, in which divine service is performed, and a lofty, magnificent Gothic tower, that stands apart from it. The ascent of this tower is one of the tasks prescribed to strangers, and, laborious as it is, the view from the summit sufficiently rewards them. A stone staircase, steep, narrow, and winding, after passing several grated doors, leads into a floor, which you hope is at the top, but which is little more than half way up. Here the family of the belfryman fill several decently furnished apartments, and shew the great bell, with several others, the noise of which, it might be supposed, no human ears could bear, as they must, at the distance of only three, or four yards. After resting a few minutes in a room, the windows of which command, perhaps, a more extensive land view than any other inhabited apartment in Europe, you begin the second ascent by a staircase still narrower and steeper, and, when you seem to be so weary as to be incapable of another step, half the horizon suddenly bursts upon the view, and all your meditated complaints are overborne by expressions of admiration.

Towards the west, the prospect, after including the rich plain of gardens near Utrecht, extends over the province of Holland, intersected with water, speckled with towns, and finally bounded by the sea, the mists of which hide the low shores from the sight. To the northward, the Zuyder Zee spreads its haziness over Amsterdam and Naerden; but from thence to the east, the spires of Amersfoort, Rhenen, Arnheim, Nimeguen and many intermediate towns, are seen amongst the woods and hills, that gradually rise towards Germany. South-ward, the more mountainous district of Cleves and then the level parts of Guelderland and Holland, with the windings of the Waal and the Leck, in which the Rhine loses itself, complete a circle of probably more than sixty miles diameter, that strains the sight from this tremendous steeple. The almost perpendicular view into the streets of Utrecht affords afterwards some relief to the eye, but increases any notions of danger, you may have had from observing, that the open work Gothic parapet, which alone prevents you from falling with dizziness, has suffered something in the general decay of the church.

While we were at the top, the bells struck; and, between the giddiness communicated by the eye, and the stunning effect of a sound that seemed to shake the steeple, we were compelled to conclude sooner than had been intended this comprehensive and farewell prospect of Holland.

The Mall, which is esteemed the chief ornament of Utrecht, is, perhaps, the only avenue of the sort in Europe, still fit to be used for the game that gives its name to them all. The several rows of noble trees include, at the sides, roads and walks; but the centre is laid out for the game of Mall, and, though not often used, is in perfect preservation. It is divided so as to admit of two parties of players at once, and the side-boards sufficiently restrain spectators. The Mall in St. James's Park was kept in the same state, till 1752, when the present great walk was formed over the part, which was separated by similar side-boards. The length of that at Utrecht is nearly three quarters of a mile. The luxuriance and loftiness of the trees preserve a perspective much superior to that of St. James's, but in the latter the whole breadth of the walks is greater, and the view is more extensive, as well as more ornamented.

This city, being a sort of capital to the neighbouring nobility, is called the politest in the United Provinces, and certainly abounds, more than the others, with the professions and trades, which are subservient to splendour. One practice, observed in some degree, in all the cities, is most frequent here; that of bows paid to all parties, in which there are ladies, by every gentleman who passes. There are, however, no plays, or other public amusements; and the festivities, or ceremonies, by which other nations commemorate the happier events in their history, are as unusual here as in the other parts of the United Provinces, where there are more occasions to celebrate and fewer celebrations than in most European countries. Music is very little cultivated in any of the cities, and plays are to be seen only at Amsterdam and the Hague, where German and Dutch pieces are acted upon alternate nights. At Amsterdam, a French Opera-house has been shut up, and, at the Hague, a Comédie, and the actors ordered to leave the country.

The ramparts of the city, which are high and command extensive prospects, are rather emblems of the peacefulness, which it has long enjoyed, than signs of any effectual resistance, prepared for an enemy. They are in many places regularly planted with trees, which must be old enough to have been spared, together with the Mall, by Louis the Fourteenth; in others, pleasure houses, instead of batteries, have been raised upon them. A few pieces of old cannon are planted for the purpose of saluting the Prince of Orange, when he passes the city.

Trechtschuyts go no further eastward than this place, so that we hired a voiturier's carriage, a sort of curricle with a driver's box in front, for the journey to Nimeguen. The price for thirty-eight, or thirty-nine miles, was something more than a guinea and a half; the horses were worth probably sixty pounds upon the spot, and were as able as they were showy, or they could not have drawn us through the deep sands, that cover one third of the road.

We were now speedily quitting almost every thing, that is generally characteristic of Dutch land. The pastures were intermixed with fields of prosperous corn; the best houses were surrounded by high woods, and the grounds were separated by hedges, instead of water, where any sort of partition was used. Windmills were seldom seen, and those only for corn. But these improvements in the appearance of the country were accompanied by many symptoms of a diminished prosperity among the people. In eight-and-thirty miles there was not one considerable town; a space, which, in the province of Holland, would probably have included three opulent cities, several extensive villages, and ranges of mansions, erected by merchants and manufacturers.

Wyk de Duerstede, the first town in the road, is distinguishable at some distance, by the shattered tower of its church, a monument of the desolation, spread by the Spaniards. The inhabitants, probably intending, that it should remain as a lesson to posterity, have not attempted to restore it, further than to place some stones over the part filled by the clock. The body of the church and the remainder of the tower are not deficient of Gothic dignity. The town itself consists of one, or two wide streets, not well filled either with inhabitants, or houses.

The road here turns to the eastward and is led along the right bank of the Leck, one of the branches of the Rhine, upon a raised mound, or dique, sometimes twenty, or thirty feet, above the river on the one side, and the plains, on the other. Small posts, each numbered, are placed along this road, at unequal distances, for no other use, which we could discover, than to enable the surveyors to report exactly where the mound may want repairs. The carriage way is formed of a deep sand, which we were very glad to leave, by crossing the river at a ferry; though this road had given us a fine view of its course and of some stately vessels, pressing against the stream, on their voyage to Germany.

On the other side, the road went further from the river, though we continued to skirt it occasionally as far as a small ferry-house, opposite to Rhenen, at which we dined, while the horses rested under a shed, built over the road, as weigh-houses are at our turnpikes. Rhenen is a walled town, built upon an ascent from the water, and appears to have two, or three neat streets.

Having dined in a room, where a table, large enough for twenty persons, was placed, on one side, and a line of four, or five beds, covered by one long curtain, was formed against the wainscot, on the other, the voiturier clamoured, that the gates of Nimeguen would be shut before we could get to them, and we soon began to cross the country between the Leck and the Waal, another branch of the Rhine, which, in Guelderland, divides itself into so many channels, that none can be allowed the pre-eminence of retaining its name. Soon after reaching the right bank of the Waal, the road affords a view of the distant towers of Nimeguen, which appear there to be very important, standing upon a brow, that seems to front the whole stream of the river. In the way, we passed several noble estates, with mansions, built in the castellated form, which James the First introduced into England, instead of the more fortified residences; and there was a sufficient grandeur of woods and avenues, to shew, that there might be parks, if the owners had the taste to form them. Between the avenues, the gilded ornaments of the roof, and the peaked coverings, placed, in summer, over the chimneys, glittered to the light, and shewed the fantastic style of the architecture, so exactly copied in Flemish landscapes of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.

As the sun declined and we drew near Nimeguen, the various colouring of a scene more rich than extensive rendered its effect highly interesting. The wide Waal on our left, reflecting the evening blush, and a vessel whose full sails caught a yellow gleam from the west; the ramparts and pointed roofs of Nimeguen rising over each other, just tinted by the vapour that ascended from the bay below; the faint and fainter blue of two ridges of hills in Germany retiring in the distance, with the mellow green of nearer woods and meadows, formed a combination of hues surprisingly gay and beautiful. But Nimeguen lost much of its dignity on a nearer approach; for many of the towers, which the treachery of fancy had painted at distance, changed into forms less picturesque; and its situation, which a bold sweep of the Waal had represented to be on a rising peninsula crowning the flood, was found to be only on a steep beside it. The ramparts, however, the high old tower of the citadel, the Belvidere, with the southern gate of the town beneath, composed part of an interesting picture on the opposite margin of the river. But there was very little time to observe it: the driver saw the flying bridge, making its last voyage, for the night, towards our shore, and likely to return in about twenty minutes; he, therefore, drove furiously along the high bank of the river, and, turning the angle of the two roads with a velocity, which would have done honour to a Brentford postillion, entered that adjoining the first half of the bridge, and shewed the directors of the other half, that we were to be part of their cargo.

This bridge, which is partly laid over boats and partly over two barges, that float from the boats to the shore, is so divided, because the stream is occasionally too rapid to permit an entire range of boats between the two banks. It is thus, for one half, a bridge of boats, and, for the other, a flying bridge; which last part is capable of containing several carriages, and joins to the other so exactly as not to occasion the least interruption. It is also railed for the safety of foot passengers, of whom there are commonly twenty, or thirty. The price for a carriage is something about twenty-pence, which the tollmen carefully collect as soon as the demi-bridge has begun its voyage.

[NIMEGUEN]

Has, towards the water, little other fortification than an ancient brick wall, and a gate. Though it is a garrison town, and certainly no trifling object, we were not detained at the gate by troublesome ceremonies. The commander, affecting no unnecessary carefulness, is satisfied with a copy of the report, which the innkeepers, in all the towns, send to the Magistrates, of the names and conditions of their guests. A printed paper is usually brought up, after supper, in which you are asked to write your name, addition, residence, how long you intend to stay, and to whom you are known in the province. We did not shew a passport in Holland.

The town has an abrupt but short elevation from the river, which you ascend by a narrow but clean street, opening into a spacious market-place. The great church and the guard-house are on one side of this; from the other, a street runs to the eastern gate of the town, formed in the old wall, beyond which commence the modern and strong fortifications, that defend it, on the land side. At the eastern extremity of the place, a small mall leads to the house, in which the Prince of Orange resided, during the troubles of 1786; and, beyond it, on a sudden promontory towards the river, stands a prospect house, called the Belvidere, which, from its eastern and southern windows, commands a long view into Germany, and to the north looks over Guelderland. From this place all the fortifications, which are very extensive, are plainly seen, and a military person might estimate their strength. There are several forts and outworks, and, though the ditch is pallisadoed instead of filled, the place must be capable of a considerable defence, unless the besieging army should be masters of the river and the opposite bank. There was formerly a fortress upon this bank, which was often won and lost, during the sieges of Nimeguen, but no remains of it are visible now.

The town is classic ground to those, who venerate the efforts, by which the provinces were rescued from the dominion of the Spaniards. It was first attempted by Sengius, a Commander in the Earl of Leicester's army, who proposed to enter it, at night, from the river, through a house, which was to be opened to him; but his troops by mistake entered another, where a large company was collected, on occasion of a wedding, and, being thus discovered to the garrison, great numbers of those, already landed upon the beach, were put to the sword, or drowned in the confusion of the retreat. An attempt by Prince Maurice to surprise it was defeated by the failure of a petard, applied to one of the gates; but it was soon after taken by a regular siege, carried on chiefly from the other side of the river. This and the neighbouring fortress of Grave were among the places, first taken by Louis the Fourteenth, during his invasion, having been left without sufficient garrisons.

The citadel, a remnant of the antient fortifications, is near the eastern gate, which appears to be thought stronger than the others, for, on this side, also is the arsenal.

Nimeguen has been compared to Nottingham, which it resembles more in situation than in structure, though many of the streets are steep, and the windows of one range of houses sometimes overlook the chimnies of another; the views also, as from some parts of Nottingham, are over a green and extensive level, rising into distant hills; and here the comparison ends. The houses are built entirely in the Dutch fashion, with many coloured, painted fronts, terminating in peaked roofs; but some decline of neatness may be observed by those who arrive here from the province of Holland. The market-place, though gay and large, cannot be compared with that of Nottingham, in extent, nor is the town more than half the size of the latter, though it is said to contain nearly fifty thousand inhabitants. From almost every part of it you have, however, a glimpse of the surrounding landscape, which is more extensive than that seen from Nottingham, and is adorned by the sweeps of a river of much greater dignity than the Trent.

We left Nimeguen, in the afternoon, with a voiturier, whose price, according to the ordonnatie, was higher than if we had set out half an hour sooner, upon the supposition that he could not return that night. The road lies through part of the fortifications, concerning which there can, of course, be no secrecy. It then enters an extensive plain, and runs almost parallel to a range of heights, at the extremity of which Nimeguen stands, and presents an appearance of still greater strength and importance than when seen from the westward.

After a few miles, this road leaves the territories of the United Provinces, and enters the Prussian duchy of Cleves, at a spot where a mill is in one country, and the miller's house in the other. An instance of difference between the conditions of the people in the two countries was observable even at this passage of their boundary. Our postillion bought, at the miller's, a loaf of black bread, such as is not made in the Dutch provinces, and carried it away for the food of his horses, which were thus initiated into some of the blessings of the German peasantry. After another quarter of a mile you have more proofs that you have entered the country of the King of Prussia. From almost every cluster of huts barefooted children run out to beg, and ten or a dozen stand at every gate, nearly throwing themselves under the wheels to catch your money, which, every now and then, the bigger seize from the less.

Yet the land is not ill-cultivated. The distinction between the culture of land in free and arbitrary countries, was, indeed, never very apparent to us, who should have been ready enough to perceive it. The great landholders know what should be done, and the peasantry are directed to do it. The latter are, perhaps, supplied with stock, and the grounds produce as much as elsewhere, though you may read, in the looks and manners of the people, that very little of its productions is for them.

Approaching nearer to Cleves, we travelled on a ridge of heights, and were once more cheared with the "pomp of groves." Between the branches were delightful catches of extensive landscapes, varied with hills clothed to their summits with wood, where frequently the distant spires of a town peeped out most picturesquely. The open vales between were chiefly spread with corn; and such a prospect of undulating ground, and of hills tufted with the grandeur of forests, was inexpressibly chearing to eyes fatigued by the long view of level countries.

At a few miles from Cleves the road enters the Park and a close avenue of noble plane-trees, when these prospects are, for a while, excluded. The first opening is where, on one hand, a second avenue commences, and, on the other, a sort of broad bay in the woods, which were planted by Prince Maurice, includes an handsome house now converted into an inn, which, owing to the pleasantness of the situation, and its vicinity to a mineral spring, is much frequented in summer. A statue of General Martin Schenck, of dark bronze, in complete armour, and with the beaver down, is raised upon a lofty Ionic column, in the centre of the avenue, before the house. Resting upon a lance, the figure seems to look down upon the passenger, and to watch over the scene, with the sternness of an ancient knight. It appears to be formed with remarkable skill, and has an air more striking and grand than can be readily described.

The orangerie of the palace is still preserved, together with a semi-circular pavilion, in a recess of the woods, through which an avenue of two miles leads you to

[CLEVES.]

This place, which, being the capital of a duchy, is entitled a City, consists of some irregular streets, built upon the brow of a steep hill. It is walled, but cannot be mentioned as fortified, having no solid works. The houses are chiefly built of stone, and there is a little of Dutch cleanliness; but the marks of decay are strongly impressed upon them, and on the ancient walls. What little trade there is, exists in retailing goods sent from Holland. The Dutch language and coins are in circulation here, almost as much as the German.

The established religion of the town is Protestant; but here is an almost universal toleration, and the Catholics have several churches and monasteries. Cleves has suffered a various fate in the sport of war during many centuries, but has now little to distinguish it except the beauty of its prospects, which extend into Guelderland and the province of Holland, over a country enriched with woody hills and vallies of corn and pasturage.

Being convinced, in two or three hours, that there was nothing to require a longer stay, we set out for Xanten, a town in the same duchy, distant about eighteen miles. For nearly the whole of this length the road lay through a broad avenue, which frequently entered a forest of oak, fir, elm, and majestic plane-trees, and emerged from it only to wind along its skirts. The views then opened over a country, diversified with gentle hills, and ornamented by numberless spires upon the heights, every small town having several convents. The castle of Eltenberg, on the summit of a wooded mountain, was visible during the whole of this stage and part of the next day's journey. Yet the fewness, or the poverty, of the inhabitants appeared from our meeting only one chaise, and two or three small carts, for eighteen miles of the only high-road in the country.

It was a fine evening in June, and the rich lights, thrown among the forest glades, with the solitary calmness of the scene, and the sereneness of the air, filled with scents from the woods, were circumstances which persuaded to such tranquil rapture as Collins must have felt when he had the happiness to address to Evening—

For when thy folding star, arising, shews
His paly circlet, at his warning lamp,
The fragrant hours and elves
Who slept in buds the day:
And many a nymph, who wreaths her brows with sedge,
And sheds the fresh'ning dew, and, lovelier still,
The pensive pleasures sweet
Prepare thy shadowy car.

A small half-way village, a stately convent, with its gardens, called Marienbaum, founded in the 15th century by Maria, Duchess of Cleves, and a few mud cottages of the woodcutters, were the only buildings on the road: the foot passengers were two Prussian soldiers. It was moonlight, and we became impatient to reach Xanten, long before our driver could say, in a mixture of German and Dutch, that we were near it. At length from the woods, that had concealed the town, a few lights appeared over the walls, and dissipated some gloomy fancies about a night to be passed in a forest.

[XANTEN.]

This is a small town, near the Rhine, without much appearance of prosperity, but neater than most of the others around it. Several narrow streets open into a wide and pleasant market-place, in the centre of which an old but flourishing elm has its branches carefully extended by a circular railing, to form an arbour over benches. A cathedral, that proves the town to have been once more considerable, is on the north side of this place; a fine building, which, shewn by the moon of a summer midnight, when only the bell of the adjoining convent calling the monks to prayers, and the waving of the aged tree, were to be heard, presented a scene before the windows of our inn, that fully recompensed for its want of accommodation.

There were also humbler reasons towards contentment; for the people of the house were extremely desirous to afford it; and the landlord was an orator in French, of which and his address he was pleasantly vain. He received us with an air of humour, mingled with his complaisance, and hoped, that, "as Monsieur was Anglois, he should surprise him with his vin extraordinaire, all the Rhenish wine being adulterated by the Dutch, before they sent it to England. His house could not be fine, because he had little money; but he had an excellent cook, otherwise it could not be expected that the prebendaries of the cathedral would dine at it, every day, and become, as they were, vraiment, Monsieur, gros comme vous me voyez!"

There are in this small town several monasteries and one convent of noble canonesses, of which last the members are few, and the revenues very great. The interior of the cathedral is nearly as grand as the outside; and mass is performed in it with more solemnity than in many, which have larger institutions.

We left Xanten, the next morning, in high spirits, expecting to reach Cologne, which was little more than fifty miles distant, before night, though the landlord and the postmaster hinted, that we should go no further than Neuss. This was our first use of the German post, the slowness of which, though it has been so often described, we had not estimated. The day was intensely hot, and the road, unsheltered by trees, lay over deep sands, that reflected the rays. The refreshing forests of yesterday we now severely regretted, and watched impatiently to catch a freer air from the summit of every hill on the way. The postillion would permit his horses to do little more than walk, and every step threw up heaps of dust into the chaise. It had been so often said by travellers, that money has as little effect in such cases as intreaties, or threats, that we supposed this slowness irremediable, which was really intended only to produce an offer of what we would willingly have given.

[RHEINBERG.]

In something more than three hours, we reached Rheinberg, distant about nine miles; a place often mentioned in the military history of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and which we had supposed would at least gratify us by the shew of magnificent ruins, together with some remains of its former importance. It is a wretched place of one dirty street, and three or four hundred mean houses, surrounded by a decayed wall that never was grand, and half filled by inhabitants, whose indolence, while it is probably more to be pitied than blamed, accounts for the sullenness and wretchedness of their appearance. Not one symptom of labour, or comfort, was to be perceived in the whole town. The men seemed, for the most part, to be standing at their doors, in unbuckled shoes and woollen caps. What few women we saw were brown, without the appearance of health, which their leanness and dirtiness prevented. Some small shops of hucksters' wares were the only signs of trade.

The inn, that seemed to be the best, was such as might be expected in a remote village, in a cross road in England. The landlord was standing before the door in his cap, and remained there some time after we had found the way into a sitting room, and from thence, for want of attendance, into a kitchen; where two women, without stockings, were watching over some sort of cookery in earthen jugs. We were supplied, at length, with bread, butter and sour wine, and did not suffer ourselves to consider this as any specimen of German towns, because Rheinberg was not a station of the post; a delusion, the spirit of which continued through several weeks, for we were always finding reasons to believe, that the wretchedness of present places and persons was produced by some circumstances, which would not operate in other districts.

This is the condition of a town, which, in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, was thought important enough to be five times attacked by large armies. Farnese, the Spanish commander, was diverted from his attempt upon it, by the necessity of relieving Zutphen, then besieged by the Earl of Leicester: in 1589, the Marquis of Varambon invested it, for the Spaniards, by order of the Prince of Parma; but it was relieved by our Colonel Vere, who, after a long battle, completely defeated the Spanish army. In 1599, when it was attacked by Mendoza, a magazine caught fire. The governor, his family, and a part of the garrison were buried in the ruins of a tower, and the explosion sunk several vessels in the Rhine; after which, the remainder of the garrison surrendered the place. The Prince of Orange retook it in 1633. Four years afterwards, the Spaniards attempted to surprise it in the night; but the Deputy Governor and others, who perceived that the garrison could not be immediately collected, passed the walls, and, pretending to be deserters, mingled with the enemy, whom they persuaded to delay the attack for a few minutes. The troops within were in the mean time prepared for their defence, and succeeded in it; but the Governor, with two officers and fifteen soldiers who had accompanied him, being discovered, were killed. All these contests were for a place not belonging to either party, being in the electorate of Cologne, but which was valuable to both, for its neighbourhood to their frontiers.

Beyond Rheinberg, our prospects were extensive, but not so woody, or so rich as those of the day before, and few villages enlivened the landscape. Open corn lands, intermixed with fields of turnips, spread to a considerable distance, on both sides; on the east, the high ridges of the Westphalian mountains shut up the scene. The Rhine, which frequently swept near the road, shewed a broad surface, though shrunk within its sandy shores by the dryness of the season. Not a single vessel animated its current, which was here tame and smooth, though often interrupted by sands, that rose above its level.

[HOOGSTRASS.]

The next town was Hoogstrass, a post station, fifteen miles from Xanten, of which we saw little more than the inn, the other part of this small place being out of the road. A large house, which might have been easily made convenient, and was really not without plenty, confirmed our notion, that, at the post stages, there would always be some accommodation. We dined here, and were well attended. The landlord, a young man who had served in the army of the country, and appeared by his dress to have gained some promotion, was very industrious in the house, during this interval of his other employments.

The next stage was of eighteen miles, which make a German post and an half; and, during this space, we passed by only one town, Ordingen, or Urdingen, the greatest part of which spread between the road and the Rhine.

Towards evening, the country became more woody, and the slender spires of convents frequently appeared, sheltered in their groves and surrounded by corn lands of their own domain. One of these, nearer to the road, was a noble mansion, and, with its courts, offices and gardens, spread over a considerable space. A summer-house, built over the garden wall, had no windows towards the road, but there were several small apertures, which looked upon it and beyond to a large tract of inclosed wood, the property of the convent.

[NEUSS.]

Soon after sun-set, we came to Neuss, which, as it is a post town, and was mentioned as far off as Xanten, we had been sure would afford a comfortable lodging, whether there were any vestiges, or not, of its ancient and modern history. The view of it, at some little distance, did not altogether contradict this notion, for it stands upon a gentle ascent, and the spires of several convents might justly give ideas of a considerable town to those, who had not learned how slightly such symptoms are to be attended to in Germany.

On each side of the gate, cannon balls of various sizes remain in the walls. Within, you enter immediately into a close street of high, but dirty stone houses, from which you expect to escape presently, supposing it to be only some wretched quarter, appropriated to disease and misfortune. You see no passengers, but, at the door of every house, an haggard group of men and women stare upon you with looks of hungry rage, rather than curiosity, and their gaunt figures excite, at first, more fear than pity. Continuing to look for the better quarter, and to pass between houses, that seem to have been left after a siege and never entered since, the other gate of the town at length appears, which you would rather pass at midnight than stop at any place yet perceived. Within a small distance of the gate, there is, however, a house with a wider front, and windows of unshattered glass and walls not quite as black as the others, which is known to be the inn only because the driver stops there, for, according to the etiquette of sullenness in Germany, the people of the house make no shew of receiving you.

If it had not already appeared, that there was no other inn, you might learn it from the manners of the two hostesses and their servants. Some sort of accommodation is, however, to be had; and those, who have been longer from the civilities and assiduities of similar places in England, may, by more submission and more patience, obtain it sooner than we did. By these means they may reduce all their difficulties into one, that of determining whether the windows shall be open or shut; whether they will endure the closeness of the rooms, or will admit air, loaded with the feculence of putrid kennels, that stagnate along the whole town.

This is the Novesium of Tacitus, the entrance of the thirteenth legion into which he relates, at a time when the Rhine, incognita illi cœlo siccitate, became vix navium patiens, and which Vocula was soon after compelled to surrender by the treachery of other leaders and the corruption of his army, whom he addressed, just before his murder, in the fine speech, beginning, "Nunquam apud vos verba feci, aut pro vobis solicitior, aut pro me securior"; a passage so near to the cunctisque timentem, securumque sui, by which Lucan describes Cato, that it must be supposed to have been inspired by it.

This place stood a siege, for twelve months, against 60,000 men, commanded by Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, and succeeded in its resistance. But, in 1586, when it held out for Gebhert de Trusches, an Elector of Cologne, expelled by his Chapter, for having married, it was the scene of a dreadful calamity. Farnese, the Spanish General, who had just taken Venlo, marched against it with an army, enraged at having lost the plunder of that place by a capitulation. When the inhabitants of Neuss were upon the point of surrendering it, upon similar terms, the army, resolving not to lose another prey of blood and gold, rushed to the assault, set fire to the place, and murdered all the inhabitants, except a few women and children, who took refuge in two churches, which alone were saved from the flames.

When the first shock of the surprise, indignation and pity, excited by the mention of such events, is overcome, we are, of course, anxious to ascertain whether the perpetrators of them were previously distinguished by a voluntary entrance into situations, that could be supposed to mark their characters. This was the army of Philip the Second. The soldiers were probably, for the most part, forced into the service. The officers, of whom only two are related to have opposed the massacre, could not have been so.

What was then the previous distinction of the officers of Philip the Second? But it is not proper to enter into a discussion here of the nature of their employment.

Neuss was rebuilt, on the same spot; the situation being convenient for an intercourse with the eastern shore of the Rhine, especially with Dusseldorff, to which it is nearly opposite. The ancient walls were partly restored by the French, in 1602. One of the churches, spared by the Spaniards, was founded by a daughter of Charlemagne, in the ninth century, and is now attached to the Chapter of Noble Ladies of St. Quirin; besides which there are a Chapter of Canons, and five or six convents in the place.

[COLOGNE.]

From Neuss hither we passed through a deep, sandy road, that sometimes wound near the Rhine, the shores of which were yet low and the water tame and shallow. There were no vessels upon it, to give one ideas either of the commerce, or the population of its banks.

The country, for the greater part of twenty miles, was a flat of corn lands; but, within a short distance of Cologne, a gentle rise affords a view of the whole city, whose numerous towers and steeples had before appeared, and of the extensive plains, that spread round it. In the southern perspective of these, at the distance of about eight leagues, rise the fantastic forms of what are called the Seven Mountains; westward, are the cultivated hills, that extend towards Flanders; and, eastward, over the Rhine, the distant mountains, that run through several countries of interior Germany. Over the wild and gigantic features of the Seven Mountains dark thunder mists soon spread an awful obscurity, and heightened the expectation, which this glimpse of them had awakened, concerning the scenery we were approaching.

The appearance of Cologne, at the distance of one, or two miles, is not inferior to the conception, which a traveller may have already formed of one of the capitals of Germany, should his mind have obeyed that almost universal illusion of fancy, which dresses up the images of places unseen, as soon as much expectation, or attention is directed towards them. The air above is crowded with the towers and spires of churches and convents, among which the cathedral, with its huge, unfinished mass, has a striking appearance. The walls are also high enough to be observed, and their whole inclosure seems, at a distance, to be thickly filled with buildings.

We should have known ourselves to be in the neighbourhood of some place larger than usual, from the sight of two, or three carriages, at once, on the road; nearly the first we had seen in Germany. There is besides some shew of labour in the adjoining villages; but the sallow countenances and miserable air of the people prove, that it is not a labour beneficial to them. The houses are only the desolated homes of these villagers; for there is not one that can be supposed to belong to any prosperous inhabitant of the city, or to afford the coveted stillness, in which the active find an occasional reward, and the idle a perpetual misery.

A bridge over a dry fossé leads to the northern gate, on each side of which a small modern battery defends the ancient walls. The city is not fortified, according to any present sense of the term, but is surrounded by these walls and by a ditch, of which the latter, near the northern gate, serves as a sort of kitchen garden to the inhabitants.

Before passing the inner gate, a soldier demanded our names, and we shewed our passport, for the first time; but, as the inquisitor did not understand French, in which language passports from England are written, it was handed to his comrades, who formed a circle about our chaise, and began, with leaden looks, to spell over the paper. Some talked, in the mean time, of examining the baggage; and the money, which we gave to prevent this, being in various pieces and in Prussian coin, which is not perfectly understood here, the whole party turned from the passport, counting and estimating the money in the hand of their collector, as openly as if it had been a legal tribute. When this was done and they had heard, with surprise, that we had not determined where to lodge, being inclined to take the pleasantest inn, we wrote our names in the corporal's dirty book, and were allowed to drive, under a dark tower, into the city.

Instantly, the narrow street, gloomy houses, stagnant kennels and wretchedly looking people reminded us of the horrors of Neuss. The lower windows of these prison-like houses are so strongly barricadoed, that we had supposed the first two, or three, to be really parts of a gaol; but it soon appeared, that this profusion of heavy iron work was intended to exclude, not to confine, robbers. A succession of narrow streets, in which the largest houses were not less disgusting than the others for the filthiness of their windows, doorways and massy walls, continued through half the city. In one of these streets, or lanes, the postillion stopped at the door of an inn, which he said was the best; but the suffocating air of the street rendered it unnecessary to enquire, whether, contrary to appearances, there could be any accommodation within, and, as we had read of many squares, or market-places, he was desired to stop at an inn, situated in one of these. Thus we came to the Hotel de Prague, a large straggling building, said to be not worse than the others, for wanting half its furniture, and probably superior to them, by having a landlord of better than German civility.

Having counted from our windows the spires of ten, or twelve churches, or convents, we were at leisure to walk farther into the city, and to look for the spacious squares, neat streets, noble public buildings and handsome houses, which there could be no doubt must be found in an Imperial and Electoral city, seated on the Rhine, at a point where the chief roads from Holland and Flanders join those of Germany, treated by all writers as a considerable place, and evidently by its situation capable of becoming a sort of emporium for the three countries. The spot, into which our inn opened, though a parallelogram of considerable extent, bordered by lime trees, we passed quickly through, perceiving, that the houses on all its sides were mean buildings, and therefore such as could not deserve the attention in the Imperial and Electoral city of Cologne. There are streets from each angle of this place, and we pursued them all in their turn, narrow, winding and dirty as they are, pestilent with kennels, gloomy from the height and blackness of the houses, unadorned by any public buildings, except the churches, that were grand, or by one private dwelling, that appeared to be clean, with little shew of traffic and less of passengers, either busy, or gay, till we saw them ending in other streets still worse, or concluded by the gates of the city. One of them, indeed, led through a market-place, in which the air is free from the feculence of the streets, but which is inferior to the other opening in space, and not better surrounded by buildings.

"These diminutive observations seem to take away something from the dignity of writing, and therefore are never communicated, but with hesitation, and a little fear of abasement and contempt."[²] And it is not only because they take away something from the dignity of writing, that such observations are withheld. To be thought capable of commanding more pleasures and preventing more inconveniences than others is a too general passport to respect; and, in the ordinary affairs of life, for one, that will shew somewhat less prosperity than he has, in order to try who will really respect him, thousands exert themselves to assume an appearance of more, which they might know can procure only the mockery of esteem for themselves, and the reality of it for their supposed conditions. Authors are not always free from a willingness to receive the fallacious sort of respect, that attaches to accidental circumstances, for the real sort, of which it would be more reasonable to be proud. A man, relating part of the history of his life, which is always necessarily done by a writer of travels, does not choose to shew that his course could lie through any scenes deficient of delights; or that, if it did, he was not enough elevated by his friends, importance, fortune, fame, or business, to be incapable of observing them minutely. The curiosities of cabinets and of courts are, therefore, exactly described, and as much of every occurrence as does not shew the relater moving in any of the plainer walks of life; but the difference between the stock of physical comforts in different countries, the character of conditions, if the phrase may be used, such as it appears in the ordinary circumstances of residence, dress, food, cleanliness, opportunities of relaxation; in short, the information, which all may gain, is sometimes left to be gained by all, not from the book, but from travel. A writer, issuing into the world, makes up what he mistakes for his best appearance, and is continually telling his happiness, or shewing his good-humour, as people in a promenade always smile, and always look round to observe whether they are seen smiling. The politest salutation of the Chinese, when they meet, is, "Sir, prosperity is painted on your countenance;" or, "your whole air announces your felicity;" and the writers of travels, especially since the censure thrown upon Smollet, seem to provide, that their prosperity shall be painted on their volumes, and all their observations announce their felicity.

[2] Dr. Samuel Johnson.

Cologne, though it bears the name of the Electorate, by which it is surrounded, is an imperial city; and the Elector, as to temporal affairs, has very little jurisdiction within it. The government has an affectation of being formed upon the model of Republican Rome; a form certainly not worthy of imitation, but which is as much disgraced by this burlesque of it, as ancient statues are by the gilding and the wigs, with which they are said to be sometimes arrayed by modern hands. There is a senate of forty-nine persons, who, being returned at different times of the year, are partly nominated by the remaining members, and partly chosen by twenty-two tribes of burgesses, or rather by so many companies of traders. Of six burgomasters, two are in office every third year, and, when these appear in public, they are preceded by Lictors, bearing fasces, sur-mounted by their own arms! Each of the tribes, or companies, has a President, and the twenty-two Presidents form a Council, which is authorised to enquire into the conduct of the Senate: but the humbleness of the burgesses in their individual condition has virtually abolished all this scheme of a political constitution. Without some of the intelligence and personal independence, which are but little consistent with the general poverty and indolence of German traders, nothing but the forms of any constitution can be preserved, long after the virtual destruction of it has been meditated by those in a better condition. The greater part of these companies of traders having, in fact, no trade which can place them much above the rank of menial servants to their rich customers, the design, that their Council shall check the Senate, and the Senate direct the Burgomasters, has now, of course, little effect. And this, or a still humbler condition, is that of several cities in Germany, called free and independent, in which the neighbouring sovereigns have scarcely less authority, though with something more of circumstance, than in their own dominions.

The constitution of Cologne permits, indeed, some direct interference of the Elector; for the Tribunal of Appeal, which is the supreme court of law, is nominated by him: he has otherwise no direct power within the city; and, being forbidden to reside there more than three days successively, he does not even retain a palace, but is contented with a suite of apartments, reserved for his use at an inn. That this exclusion is no punishment, those, who have ever passed two days at Cologne, will admit; and it can tend very little to lessen his influence, for the greatest part of his personal expenditure must reach the merchants of the place; and the officers of several of his territorial jurisdictions make part of the inhabitants. His residences, with which he is remarkably well provided, are at Bonn; at Bruhl, a palace between Cologne and that place; at Poppelsdorff, which is beyond it; at Herzogs Freud, an hunting seat; and in Munster, of which he is the Bishop.

The duties of customs and excise are imposed by the magistrates of the city, and these enable them to pay their contributions to the Germanic fund; for, though such cities are formally independent of the neighbouring princes and nobility, they are not so of the general laws or expences of the empire, in the Diet of which they have some small share, forty-nine cities being allowed to send two representatives, and thus to have two votes out of an hundred and thirty-six. These duties, of both sorts, are very high at Cologne; and the first form a considerable part of the interruptions, which all the States upon the Rhine give to the commerce of that river. Here also commodities, intended to be carried beyond the city by water, must be re-shipped; for, in order to provide cargoes for the boatmen of the place, vessels from the lower parts of the Rhine are not allowed to ascend beyond Cologne, and those from the higher parts cannot descend it farther. They may, indeed, reload with other cargoes for their return; and, as they constantly do so, the Cologne boatmen are not much benefited by the regulation; but the transfer of the goods employs some hands, subjects them better to the inspection of the customhouse officers, and makes it necessary for the merchants of places, on both sides, trading with each other, to have intermediate correspondents here. Yet, notwithstanding all this aggression upon the freedom of trade, Cologne is less considerable as a port, than some Dutch towns, never mentioned in a book, and is inferior, perhaps, to half the minor seaports in England. We could not find more than thirty vessels of burthen against the quay, all mean and ill-built, except the Dutch, which are very large, and, being constructed purposely for a tedious navigation, contain apartments upon the deck for the family of the skipper, well furnished, and so commodious as to have four or five sashed windows on each side, generally gay with flower-pots. Little flower-gardens, too, sometimes formed upon the roof of the cabin, increase the domestic comforts of the skipper; and the neatness of his vessel can, perhaps, be equalled only by that of a Dutch house. In a time of perfect peace, there is no doubt more traffic; but, from what we saw of the general means and occasions of commerce in Germany, we cannot suppose it to be much reduced by war. Wealthy and commercial countries may be injured immensely by making war either for Germany or against it; by too much friendship or too much enmity; but Germany itself cannot be proportionately injured with them, except when it is the scene of actual violence. Englishmen, who feel, as they always must, the love of their own country much increased by the view of others, should be induced, at every step, to wish, that there may be as little political intercourse as possible, either of friendship or enmity, between the blessings of their Island and the wretchedness of the Continent.

Our inn had formerly been a convent, and was in a part of the town where such societies are more numerous than elsewhere. At five o'clock, on the Sunday after our arrival, the bells of churches and convents began to sound on all sides, and there was scarcely any entire intermission of them till evening. The places of public amusement, chiefly a sort of tea-gardens, were then set open, and, in many streets, the sound of music and dancing was heard almost as plainly as that of the bells had been before; a disgusting excess of licentiousness, which appeared in other instances, for we heard, at the same time, the voices of a choir on one side of the street, and the noise of a billiard table on the other. Near the inn, this contrast was more observable. While the strains of revelry arose from an adjoining garden, into which our windows opened, a pause in the music allowed us to catch some notes of the vesper service, performing in a convent of the order of Clarisse, only three or four doors beyond. Of the severe rules of this society we had been told in the morning. The members take a vow, not only to renounce the world, but their dearest friends, and are never after permitted to see even their fathers or mothers, though they may sometimes converse with the latter from behind a curtain. And, lest some lingering remains of filial affection should tempt an unhappy nun to lift the veil of separation between herself and her mother, she is not allowed to speak even with her, but in the presence of the abbess. Accounts of such horrible perversions of human reason make the blood thrill and the teeth chatter. Their fathers they can never speak to, for no man is suffered to be in any part of the convent used by the sisterhood, nor, indeed, is admitted beyond the gate, except when there is a necessity for repairs, when all the votaries of the order are previously secluded. It is not easily, that a cautious mind becomes convinced of the existence of such severe orders; when it does, astonishment at the artificial miseries, which the ingenuity of human beings forms for themselves by seclusion, is as boundless as at the other miseries, with which the most trivial vanity and envy so frequently pollute the intercourses of social life. The poor nuns, thus nearly entombed during their lives, are, after death, tied upon a board, in the clothes they die in, and, with only their veils thrown over the face, are buried in the garden of the convent.

During this day, Trinity Sunday, processions were passing on all sides, most of them attended by some sort of martial music. Many of the parishes, of which there are nineteen, paraded with their officers; and the burgesses, who are distributed into eight corps, under a supposition that they could and would defend the city, if it was attacked, presented their captains at the churches. The host accompanied all these processions. A party of the city guards followed, and forty or fifty persons out of uniform, the representatives probably of the burgesses, who are about six thousand, succeeded. Besides the guards, there was only one man in uniform, who, in the burlesque dress of a drum-major, entertained the populace by a kind of extravagant marching dance, in the middle of the procession. Our companion would not tell us that this was the captain.

The cathedral, though unfinished, is conspicuous, amongst a great number of churches, for the dignity of some detached features, that shew part of the vast design formed for the whole. It was begun, in 1248, by the Elector Conrad, who is related, in an hexameter inscription over a gate, to have laid the first stone himself. In 1320, the choir was finished, and the workmen continued to be employed upon the other parts in 1499, when of two towers, destined to be 580 feet above the roof, one had risen 21 feet, and the other 150 feet, according to the measurement mentioned in a printed description. We did not learn at what period the design of completing the edifice was abandoned; but the original founder lived to see all the treasures expended, which he had collected for the purpose. In its present state, the inequality of its vast towers renders it a striking object at a considerable distance; and, from the large unfilled area around it, the magnificence of its Gothic architecture, especially of some parts, which have not been joined to the rest, and appear to be the ruined remains, rather than the commencement of a work, is viewed with awful delight.

In the interior of the cathedral, a fine choir leads to an altar of black marble, raised above several steps, which, being free from the incongruous ornaments usual in Romish churches, is left to impress the mind by its majestic plainness. The tall painted windows above, of which there are six, are superior in richness of colouring and design to any we ever saw; beyond even those in the Chapter-house at York, and most resembling the very fine ones in the cathedral of Canterbury. The nave is deformed by a low wooden roof, which appears to have been intended only as a temporary covering, and should certainly be succeeded by one of equal dignity to the vast columns placed for its support, whether the other parts of the original design can ever be completed or not.

By some accident we did not see the tomb of the three kings of Jerusalem, whose bodies are affirmed to have been brought here from Milan in 1162, when the latter city was destroyed by the Emperor Frederic Barbarossa. Their boasted treasures of golden crowns and diamonds pass, of course, without our estimation.

A description of the churches in Cologne, set out with good antiquarian minuteness, would fill volumes. The whole number of churches, chapters and chapels, which last are by far the most numerous, is not less than eighty, and none are without an history of two or three centuries. They are all opened on Sundays; and we can believe, that the city may contain, as is asserted, 40,000 souls, for nearly all that we saw were well attended. In one, indeed, the congregation consisted only of two or three females, kneeling at a great distance from the altar, with an appearance of the utmost intentness upon the service, and abstraction from the noise of the processions, that could be easily heard within. They were entirely covered with a loose black drapery; whether for penance, or not, we did not hear. In the cathedral, a figure in the same attitude was rendered more interesting by her situation beneath the broken arches and shattered fret-work of a painted window, through which the rays of the sun scarcely penetrated to break the shade she had chosen.

Several of the chapels are not much larger than an ordinary apartment, but they are higher, that the nuns of some adjoining convent may have a gallery, where, veiled from observation by a lawn curtain, their voices often mingle sweetly with the choir. There are thirty-nine convents of women and nineteen of men, which are supposed to contain about fifteen hundred persons. The chapters, of which some are noble and extremely opulent, support nearly four hundred more; and there are said to be, upon the whole, between two and three thousand persons, under religious denominations, in Cologne. Walls of convents and their gardens appear in every street, but do not attract notice, unless, as frequently happens, their bell sounds while you are passing. Some of their female inhabitants may be seen in various parts of the city, for there is an order, the members of which are employed, by rotation, in teaching children and attending the sick. Those of the noble chapters are little more confined than if they were with their own families, being permitted to visit their friends, to appear at balls and promenades, to wear what dresses they please, except when they chaunt in the choir, and to quit the chapter, if the offer of an acceptable marriage induces their families to authorise it; but their own admission into the chapter proves them to be noble by sixteen quarterings, or four generations, and the offer must be from a person of equal rank, or their descendants could not be received into similar chapters; an important circumstance in the affairs of the German noblesse.

Some of these ladies we saw in the church of their convent. Their habits were remarkably graceful; robes of lawn and black silk flowed from the shoulder, whence a quilled ruff, somewhat resembling that of Queen Elizabeth's time, spread round the neck. The hair was in curls, without powder, and in the English fashion. Their voices were peculiarly sweet, and they sung the responses with a kind of plaintive tenderness, that was extremely interesting.

The Jesuits' church is one of the grandest in Cologne, and has the greatest display of paintings over its numerous altars, as well as of marble pillars. The churches of the chapters are, for the most part, very large, and endowed with the richest ornaments, which are, however, not shewn to the public, except upon days of fête. We do not remember to have seen that of the chapter of St. Ursula, where heads and other relics are said to be handed to you from shelves, like books in a library; nor that of the convent of Jacobins, where some MSS. and other effects of Albert the Great, bishop of Ratisbon, are among the treasures of the monks.

Opposite to the Jesuits' church was an hospital for wounded soldiers, several of whom were walking in the court yard before it, half-clothed in dirty woollen, through which the bare arms of many appeared. Sickness and neglect had subdued all the symptoms of a soldier; and it was impossible to distinguish the wounded French from the others, though we were assured that several of that nation were in the crowd. The windows of the hospital were filled with figures still more wretched. There was a large assemblage of spectators, who looked as if they were astonished to see, that war is compounded of something else, besides the glories, of which it is so easy to be informed.

The soldiery of Cologne are under the command of the magistrates, and are employed only within the gates of the city. The whole body does not exceed an hundred and fifty, whom we saw reviewed by their colonel, in the place before the Hotel de Prague. The uniform is red, faced with white. The men wear whiskers, and affect an air of ferocity, but appear to be mostly invalids, who have grown old in their guard-houses.

Protestants, though protected in their persons, are not allowed the exercise of their religion within the walls of the city, but have a chapel in a village on the other side of the Rhine. As some of the chief merchants, and those who are most useful to the inhabitants, are of the reformed church, they ventured lately to request that they might have a place of worship within the city; but they received the common answer, which opposes all sort of improvement, religious or civil, that, though the privilege in itself might be justly required, it could not be granted, because they would then think of asking something more.

The government of Cologne in ecclesiastical affairs is with the Elector, as archbishop, and the Chapter as his council. In civil matters, though the city constitution is of little effect, the real power is not so constantly with him as might be supposed; those, who have influence, being sometimes out of his interest. Conversation, as we were told, was scarcely less free than in Holland, where there is justly no opposition to any opinion, however improper, or absurd, except from the reason of those, who hear it. On that account, and because of its easy intercourse with Brussels and Spa, this city is somewhat the resort of strangers, by whom such conversation is, perhaps, chiefly carried on; but those must come from very wretched countries who can find pleasure in a residence at Cologne.

Amongst the public buildings must be reckoned the Theatre, of which we did not see the inside, there being no performance, during our stay, except on Sunday. This, it seems, may be opened, without offence to the Magistrates, though a protestant church may not. It stands in a row of small houses, from which it is distinguished only by a painted front, once tawdry and now dirty, with the inscription, "Musis Gratiisque decentibus." The Town-house is an awkward and irregular stone building. The arsenal, which is in one of the narrowest streets, we should have passed, without notice, if it had not been pointed out to us. As a building, it is nothing more than such as might be formed out of four or five of the plainest houses laid into one. Its contents are said to be chiefly antient arms, of various fashions and sizes, not very proper for modern use.

[BONN.]

After a stay of nearly three tedious days, we left Cologne for Bonn, passing through an avenue of limes, which extends from one place to the other, without interruption, except where there is a small half way village. The distance is not less than eighteen miles, and the diversified culture of the plains, through which it passes, is unusually grateful to the eye, after the dirty buildings of Cologne and the long uniformity of corn lands in the approach to it. Vines cover a great part of these plains, and are here first seen in Germany, except, indeed, within the walls of Cologne itself, which contain many large inclosures, converted from gardens and orchards into well sheltered vineyards. The vines reminded us of English hop plants, being set, like them, in rows, and led round poles to various heights, though all less than that of hops. Corn, fruit or herbs were frequently growing between the rows, whose light green foliage mingled beautifully with yellow wheat and larger patches of garden plantations, that spread, without any inclosures, to the sweeping Rhine, on the left. Beyond, appeared the blue ridges of Westphalian mountains. On the right, the plains extend to a chain of lower and less distant hills, whose skirts are covered with vines and summits darkened with thick woods.

The Elector's palace of Bruhl is on the right hand of the road, at no great distance, but we were not told, till afterwards, of the magnificent architecture and furniture, which ought to have attracted our curiosity.

On a green and circular hill, near the Rhine, stands the Benedictine abbey of Siegbourg, one of the first picturesque objects of the rich approach to Bonn; and, further on, the castle-like towers of a convent of noble ladies; both societies celebrated for their wealth and the pleasantness of their situations, which command extensive prospects over the country, on each side of the river. As we drew near Bonn, we frequently caught, between the trees of the avenue, imperfect, but awakening glimpses of the pointed mountains beyond; contrasted with the solemn grandeur of which was the beauty of a round woody hill, apparently separated from them only by the Rhine and crowned with the spire of a comely convent. Bonn, with tall slender steeples and the trees of its ramparts, thus backed by sublime mountains, looks well, as you approach it from Cologne, though neither its noble palace, nor the Rhine, which washes its walls, are seen from hence. We were asked our names at the gate, but had no trouble about passports, or baggage. A long and narrow street leads from thence to the market-place, not disgusting you either with the gloom, or the dirt of Cologne, though mean houses are abundantly intermixed with the others, and the best are far from admirable. The physiognomy of the place, if one may use the expression, is wholesome, though humble. By the recommendation of a Dutch merchant, we went to an inn in another street, branching from the market-place; and found it the cleanest, since we had left Holland.

Bonn may be called the political capital of the country, the Elector's Court being held only there; and, what would not be expected, this has importance enough to command the residence of an agent from almost every Power in Europe. The present Elector being the uncle of the Emperor, this attention is, perhaps, partly paid, with the view, that it may be felt at the Court of Vienna. Even Russia is not unrepresented in this miniature State.

The Elector's palace is, in point of grandeur, much better fitted to be the scene of diplomatic ceremonies, than those of many greater Sovereigns; and it is fitted also for better than diplomatic purposes, being placed before some of the most striking of nature's features, of which it is nearly as worthy an ornament as art can make. It is seated on the western bank of the Rhine, the general course of which it fronts, though it forms a considerable angle with the part immediately nearest. The first emotion, on perceiving it, being that of admiration, at its vastness, the wonder is, of course, equal, with which you discover, that it is only part of a greater design. It consists of a centre and an eastern wing, which are completed, and of a western wing, of which not half is yet raised. The extent from east to west is so great, that, if we had enquired the measurement, we should have been but little assisted in giving an idea of the spectacle, exhibited by so immense a building.

It is of stone, of an architecture, perhaps, not adequate to the grandeur of its extent, but which fills no part with unsuitable, or inelegant ornaments. Along the whole garden front, which is the chief, a broad terrace supports a promenade and an orangery of noble trees, occasionally refreshed by fountains, that, ornamented with statues, rise from marble basons. An arcade through the centre of the palace leads to this terrace, from whence the prospect is strikingly beautiful and sublime. The eye passes over the green lawn of the garden and a tract of level country to the groupe, called the Seven Mountains, broken, rocky and abrupt towards their summits, yet sweeping finely near their bases, and uniting with the plains by long and gradual descents, that spread round many miles. The nearest is about a league and a half off. We saw them under the cloudless sky of June, invested with the mistiness of heat, which softening their rocky points, and half veiling their recesses, left much for the imagination to supply, and gave them an aërial appearance, a faint tint of silvery grey, that was inexpressibly interesting. The Rhine, that winds at their feet, was concealed from us by the garden groves, but from the upper windows of the palace it is seen in all its majesty.

On the right from this terrace, the smaller palace of Poppelsdorff terminates a long avenue of limes and chesnut trees, that communicates with both buildings, and above are the hill and the convent Sanctæ Crucis, the latter looking out from among firs and shrubby steeps. From thence the western horizon is bounded by a range of hills, clothed to their summits with wood. The plain, that extends between these and the Rhine, is cultivated with vines and corn, and the middle distance is marked by a pyramidal mountain, darkened by wood and crowned with the tower and walls of a ruined castle.

The gardens of the palace are formally laid out in straight walks and alleys of cut trees; but the spacious lawn between these gives fine effect to the perspective of the distant mountains; and the bowery walks, while they afford refreshing shelter from a summer sun, allow partial views of the palace and the romantic landscape.

It was the Elector Joseph Clement, the same who repaired the city, left in a ruinous state by the siege of 1703, under the Duke of Marlborough, that built this magnificent residence. There are in it many suites of state rooms and every sort of apartment usual in the mansions of Sovereigns; saloons of audience and ceremony, a library, a cabinet of natural history and a theatre. Though these are readily opened to strangers, we are to confess, that we did not see them, being prevented by the attentions of those, whose civilities gave them a right to command us, while their situations enabled them to point out the best occupation of our time. The hall of the Grand Master of the Teutonic Order, ornamented with portraits of all the grand masters, we are, however, sorry to have neglected even for the delights of Poppelsdorff, which we were presently shewn.

Leaving the palace, we passed through the garden, on the right, to a fine avenue of turf, nearly a mile long, bordered by alleys of tall trees, and so wide, that the late Elector had designed to form a canal in the middle of it, for an opportunity of passing between his palaces, by land, or water, as he might wish. The palace of Poppelsdorff terminates the perspective of this avenue. It is a small building, surrounded by its gardens, in a taste not very good, and remarkable chiefly for the pleasantness of its situation. An arcade, encompassing a court in the interior, communicates with all the apartments on the ground floor, which is the principal, and with the gardens, on the eastern side of the chateau. The entrance is through a small hall, decorated with the ensigns of hunting, and round nearly the whole arcade stags' heads are placed, at equal distances. These have remained here, since the reign of Clement Augustus, the founder of the palace, who died in 1761; and they exhibit some part of the history of his life; for, under each, is an inscription, relating the events and date of the hunt, by which he killed it. There are twenty-three such ornaments.

The greatest part of the furniture had been removed, during the approach of the French, in 1792; and the Archduchess Maria Christina, to whom the Elector, her brother, had lent the chateau, was now very far from sumptuously accommodated. On this account, she passed much of her time, at Goodesberg, a small watering place in the neighbourhood. After her retreat from Brussels, in consequence of the advances of the French in the same year, she had accompanied her husband, the Duke of Saxe Teschen, into Saxony; but, since his appointment to the command of the Emperor's army of the Upper Rhine, her residence had been established in the dominions of her brother.

We were shewn through her apartments, which she had left for Goodesberg, a few hours before. On the table of her sitting room lay the fragments of a painted cross, composed of small pieces, like our dissected maps, the putting of which together exercises ingenuity and passes, perhaps, for a sort of piety. The attendant said, that it served to pass the time; but it cannot be supposed, that rank and fortune have so little power to bestow happiness, as that their possessors should have recourse to such means of lightening the hours of life.

On another table, was spread a map of all the countries, then included in the Theatre of War, and on it a box, filled with small pieces of various coloured wax, intended to mark the positions of the different armies. These were of many shades; for the Archduchess, who is said to be conversant with military affairs and to have descended to the firing of bombs at the siege of Lisle, was able to distinguish the several corps of the allied armies, that were acting separately from each other. The positions were marked up to the latest accounts then public. The course of her thoughts was visible from this chart, and they were interesting to curiosity, being those of the sister of the late unfortunate Queen of France.

The walls of an adjoining cabinet were ornamented with drawings from the antique by the Archduchess, disposed upon a light ground and serving instead of tapestry.

The chapel is a rotunda, rising into a dome, and, though small, is splendid with painting and gilding. In the centre are four altars, formed on the four sides of a square pedestal, that supports a figure of our Saviour; but the beauty of this design is marred by the vanity of placing near each altar the statue of a founder of the Teutonic order. The furniture of the Elector's gallery is of crimson velvet and gold.

On another side of the chateau, we were shewn an apartment entirely covered with grotto work, and called the hall of shells; a curious instance of patient industry, having been completed by one man, during a labour of many years. Its situation in the middle of an inhabited mansion is unsuitable to the character of a grotto: but its coolness must render it a very convenient retreat; and the likenesses of animals, as well as the other forms, into which the shells are thrown, though not very elegant, are fanciful enough, especially as the ornaments of fountains, which play into several parts of the room.

Leaving the palace by the bridge of a moat, that nearly surrounds it, we passed through the pleasant village of Poppelsdorff, and ascended the hill Sanctæ Crucis, called so from the convent of the same name, which occupies its summit. The road wound between thick woods; but we soon left it for a path, that led more immediately to the summit, among shrubs and plantations of larch and fir, and which opened into easy avenues of turf, that sometimes allowed momentary views of other woody points and of the plains around. The turf was uncommonly fragrant and fine, abounding with plants, which made us regret the want of a Botanist's knowledge and pleasures. During the ascent, the peaked tops of the mountains of the Rhine, so often admired below, began to appear above a ridge of dark woods, very near us, in a contrast of hues, which was exquisitely fine. It was now near evening; the mistiness of heat was gone from the surface of these mountains, and they had assumed a blue tint so peculiar and clear, that they appeared upon the sky, like supernatural transparencies.

We had heard, at Bonn, of the Capuchins' courtesy, and had no hesitation to knock at their gate, after taking some rest in the portico of the church, from whence we looked down another side of the mountain, over the long plains between Bonn and Cologne. Having waited some time at the gate, during which many steps fled along the passage and the head of a monk appeared peeping through a window above, a servant admitted us into a parlour, adjoining the refectory, which appeared to have been just left. This was the first convent we had entered, and we could not help expecting to see more than others had described; an involuntary habit, from which few are free, and which need not be imputed to vanity, so long as the love of surprise shall be so visible in human pursuits. When the lay-brother had quitted us, to inform the superior of our request, not a footstep, or a voice approached, for near a quarter of an hour, and the place seemed as if uninhabited. Our curiosity had no indulgence within the room, which was of the utmost plainness, and that plainness free from any thing, that the most tractable imagination could suppose peculiar to a convent. At length, a monk appeared, who received us with infinite good humour, and with the ease which must have been acquired in more general society. His shaven head and black garments formed a whimsical contrast to the character of his person and countenance, which bore no symptoms of sorrow, or penance, and were, indeed, animated by an air of cheerfulness and intelligence, that would have become the happiest inhabitant of the gayest city.

Through some silent passages, in which he did not shew us a cell and we did not perceive another monk, we passed to the church, where the favour of several Electors has assisted the display of paintings, marble, sculpture, gold and silver, mingled and arranged with magnificent effect. Among these was the marble statue, brought from England, at a great expence, and here called a representation of St. Anne, who is said to have found the Cross. Our conductor seemed to be a man of good understanding and desirous of being thought so; a disposition, which gave an awkwardness to his manner, when, in noticing a relic, he was obliged to touch upon some unproved and unimportant tradition, peculiar to his church and not essential to the least article of our faith. His sense of decorum as a member of the convent seemed then to be struggling with his vanity, as a man.

But there are relics here, pretending to a connection with some parts of christian history, which it is shocking to see introduced to consideration by any means so trivial and so liable to ridicule. It is, indeed, wonderful, that the absurd exhibitions, made in Romish churches, should so often be minutely described, and dwelt upon in terms of ludicrous exultation by those, who do not intend that most malignant of offences against human nature, the endeavour to excite a wretched vanity by sarcasm and jest, and to employ it in eradicating the comforts of religion. To such writers, the probable mischief of uniting with the mention of the most important divine doctrines the most ridiculous of human impositions ought to be apparent; and, as the risk is unnecessary in a Protestant country, why is it encountered? That persons otherwise inclined should adopt these topics is not surprising; the easiest pretences to wit are found to be made by means of familiar allusions to sacred subjects, because their necessary incongruity accomplishes the greatest part of what, in other cases, must be done by wit itself; there will, therefore, never be an end of such allusions, till it is generally seen, that they are the resources and symptoms of mean understandings, urged by the feverish desire of an eminence, to which they feel themselves inadequate.

From the chapel we ascended to a tower of the convent, whence all the scattered scenes, of whose beauty, or sublimity, we had caught partial glimpses between the woods below, were collected into one vast landscape, and exhibited almost to a single glance. The point, on which the convent stands, commands the whole horizon. To the north, spread the wide plains, before seen, covered with corn, then just embrowned, and with vines and gardens, whose alternate colours formed a gay checker work with villages, convents and castles. The grandeur of this level was unbroken by any inclosures, that could seem to diminish its vastness. The range of woody heights, that bound it on the west, extend to the southward, many leagues beyond the hill Sanctæ Crucis; but the uniform and unbroken ridges of distant mountains, on the east, cease before the Seven Mountains rise above the Rhine in all their awful majesty. The bases of the latter were yet concealed by the woody ridge near the convent, which gives such enchanting effect to their aërial points. The sky above them was clear and glowing, unstained by the lightest vapour; and these mountains still appeared upon it, like unsubstantial visions. On the two highest pinnacles we could just distinguish the ruins of castles, and, on a lower precipice, a building, which our reverend guide pointed out as a convent, dedicated to St. Bernard, giving us new occasion to admire the fine taste of the monks in their choice of situations.

Opposite to the Seven Mountains, the plains of Goodesberg are screened by the chain of hills already mentioned, which begin in the neighbourhood of Cologne, and whose woods, spreading into France, there assume the name of the Forest of Ardennes. Within the recesses of these woods the Elector has a hunting-seat, almost every window of which opens upon a different alley, and not a stag can cross these without being seen from the chateau. It is melancholy to consider, that the most frequent motives of man's retirement among the beautiful recesses of nature, are only those of destroying the innocent animals that inhabit her shades. Strange! that her lovely scenes cannot soften his heart to milder pleasures, or elevate his fancy to nobler pursuits, and that he must still seek his amusement in scattering death among the harmless and the happy.

As we afterwards walked in the garden of the convent, the greater part of which was planted with vines, the monk further exhibited his good humour and liberality. He enquired concerning the events of the war, of which he appeared to know the latest; spoke of his friends in Cologne and other places; drew a ludicrous picture of the effect which would be produced by the appearance of a capuchin in London, and laughed immoderately at it. "There," said he, "it would be supposed, that some harlequin was walking in a capuchin's dress to attract spectators for a pantomime; here nobody will follow him, lest he should lead them to church. Every nation has its way, and laughs at the ways of others. Considering the effects, which differences sometimes have, there are few things more innocent than that sort of laughter."

The garden was stored with fruits and the vegetable luxuries of the table, but was laid out with no attention to beauty, its inimitable prospects having, as the good monk said, rendered the society careless of less advantages. After exchanging our thanks for his civilities against his thanks for the visit, we descended to Poppelsdorff by a steep road, bordered with firs and fragrant shrubs, which frequently opened to corn lands and vineyards, where peasants were busied in dressing the vines.

About a mile from Bonn is a garden, or rather nursery, to which they have given the name of Vauxhall. It is much more rural than that of London, being planted with thick and lofty groves, which, in this climate, are gratefully refreshing, during the summer-day, but are very pernicious in the evening, when the vapour, arising from the ground, cannot escape through the thick foliage. The garden is lighted up only on great festivals, or when the Elector or his courtiers give a ball in a large room built for the purpose. On some days, half the inhabitants of Bonn are to be seen in this garden, mingling in the promenade with the Elector and his nobility; but there were few visitors when we saw it. Count Gimnich, the commander, who had surrendered Mentz to the French, was the only person pointed out to us.

The road from hence to Bonn was laid out and planted with poplars at the expence of the Elector, who has a taste for works of public advantage and ornament. His Grandmastership of the Teutonic Order renders his Court more frequented than those of the other ecclesiastical Princes, the possessions of that Order being still considerable enough to support many younger brothers of noble families. Having passed his youth in the army, or at the courts of Vienna or Brussels, he is also environed by friends, made before the vacancy of an ecclesiastical electorate induced him to change his profession; and the union of his three incomes, as Bishop of Munster, Grand Master and Elector, enables him to spend something more than two hundred thousand pounds annually. His experience and revenues are, in many respects, very usefully employed. To the nobility he affords an example of so much personal dignity, as to be able to reject many ostentatious customs, and to remove some of the ceremonial barriers, which men do not constantly place between themselves and their fellow-beings, except from some consciousness of personal weakness. All sovereigns, who have had any sense of their individual liberty and power, have shewn a readiness to remove such barriers; but not many have been able to effect so much as the Elector of Cologne against the chamberlains, pages, and other footmanry of their courts, who are always upon the alerte to defend the false magnificence that makes their offices seem necessary. He now enjoys many of the blessings, usual only in private stations; among others, that of conversing with great numbers of persons, not forced into his society by their rank, and of dispensing with much of that attendance, which would render his menial servants part of his company.

His secretary, Mr. Floret, whom we had the pleasure to see, gave us some accounts of the industry and carefulness of his private life, which he judiciously thought were better than any other panegyrics upon his master. His attention to the relief, employment and education of the poor, to the state of manufactures and the encouragement of talents, appears to be continual; and his country would soon have elapsed from the general wretchedness of Germany, if the exertions of three campaigns had not destroyed what thirty years of care and improvement cannot restore.

His residence at Bonn occasions expenditure enough to keep the people busy, but he has not been able to divert to it any part of the commerce, which, though it is of so little use at Cologne, is here spoken of with some envy, and seems to be estimated above its amount. The town, which is much neater than the others in the electorate, and so pleasantly situated, that its name has been supposed to be formed from the Latin synonym for good, is ornamented by few public buildings, except the palace. What is called the University is a small brick building, used more as a school than a college, except that the masters are called professors. The principal church of four, which are within the walls, is a large building, distinguished by several spires, but not remarkable for its antiquity or beauty.

Many of the German powers retain some shew of a representative government, as to affairs of finance, and have States, by which taxes are voted. Those of the electorate of Cologne consist of four colleges, representing the clergy, nobility, knights and cities; the votes are given by colleges, so that the inhabitants of the cities, if they elect their representatives fairly, have one vote in four. These States assemble at Bonn.

One of the privileges, which it is surprising that the present Elector should retain, is that of grinding corn for the consumption of the whole town. His mill, like those of all the towns on the Rhine, is a floating one, moored in the river, which turns its wheel. Bread is bad at Bonn; but this oppressive privilege is not entirely answerable for it, there being little better throughout the whole country. It generally appears in rolls, with glazed crusts, half hollow; the crumb not brown, but a sort of dirty white.

There are few cities in Germany without walls, which, when the dreadful science of war was less advanced than at present, frequently protected them against large armies. These are now so useless, that such cannon as are employed against batteries could probably not be fired from them without shaking their foundations. The fortifications of Bonn are of this sort; and, though they were doubtless better, when the Duke of Marlborough arrived before them, it is wonderful that they should have sustained a regular siege, during which great part of the town was demolished. The electorate of Cologne is, indeed, so ill prepared for war, that it has not one town, which could resist ten thousand men for three days.

The inhabitants of Bonn, whenever they regret the loss of their fortifications, should be reminded of the three sieges, which, in the course of thirty years, nearly destroyed their city. Of these the first was in 1673, when the Elector had received a French garrison into it; but the resistance did not then continue many days. It was in this siege that the Prince of Orange, afterwards our honoured William the Third, had one of his few military successes. In 1689, the French, who had lately defended it, returned to attack it; and, before they could subdue the strong garrison left in it by the Elector of Brandenburg, the palace and several public buildings were destroyed. The third siege was commanded by the Duke of Marlborough, and continued from the 24th of April to the 16th of May, the French being then the defenders, and the celebrated Cohorn one of the assailants. It was not till fifteen years afterwards, that all the houses, demolished in this siege, could be restored by the efforts of the Elector Joseph.

The present Elector maintains, in time of peace, about eight hundred soldiers, which is the number of his contingent to the army of the Empire: in the present war he has supplied somewhat more than this allotment; and, when we were at Bonn, two thousand recruits were in training. His troops wear the general uniform of the Empire, blue faced with red, which many of the Germanic sovereigns give only to their contingent troops, while those of their separate establishments are distinguished by other colours. The Austrian regiments are chiefly in white; faced with light blue, grey, or red; but the artillery are dressed, with very little shew, in a cloak speckled with light brown.