a sort of gold-wire corkscrew on each side of
the face, or in a handsome gold band which runs
along the cheek. Considering that the owners
of these costly ornaments are the bourgeoisie, it
is at first surprising how they come to possess
them. They are, in fact, hereditary property
descending from mother to daughter.

It may be satisfactory to those who have
taken their ideas of Dutch beauty from the
pictures of Rubens or his pupils, to know that
their representations of large, coarse, clumsy
women, with great inexpressive faces, are
unpardonable libels on the Dutch fair sex.
Nowhere on the continent of Europe have I
seen so many pretty faces, and so many fair,
delicate complexions, as I saw habitually in my
Dutch holidays. It is true that many of the
pretty faces are more or less doll-like; but
as compared with the mass of other northern
nations, the Dutch girls have decidedly the
advantage in personal appearance. This observation
is intended to apply to what is emphatically
termed "the people."  The Dutch ladies and
gentlemen are extremely English in appearance.
The houses, too, are furnished and fitted up in
the English manner, and with a degree of
comfort (in the English sense of that term) not
understood in any other continental country.
Large stoves warm the houses in winter, and
jalousie blinds exclude the sun in summer.

The general style of living is expensive, and
very similar to the English style; Spanish and
Madeira wines are much used. As for modes of
conveyance, the true genuine mode of transit,
as everybody knows, used to be by
"treykschuits" (large canal boats which traversed the
whole country), and wherein the traveller
enjoyed the society of people of every class, from
the staatholder to the chimney-sweep. But
this pristine mode of conveyance: is no longer
in fashion; steam has invaded its territory;
and the water, which in days of yore floated
barges laden with fat burghers and their fatter
wives and children, peasant girls, and old
women conveying vegetables to market, and
gentlemen clad in high-heeled shoes, black
shorts, a coat to the knees, and a waistcoat to
the thighs, the whole crowned by a three-
cocked-hat—the water which had the honour of
bearing these revered burdens of a past age, is
now ignominiously pumped through a leathern
hose, to become steam in the boiler of a locomotive.
Skating, too, inseparable in the general
mind from Dutch winter life, being surpassed
in speed and ease by the railway, is rapidly
becoming superseded by it except as an amusement,
or when, by reason of snow or the
slipperiness of the rails, the trains are unable
to run. Young Holland, however, likes it still,
and sticks to it; not without, reason, in a
watery country as level as a billiard-table.

The management of the sluices is perfect and
exact, Were, indeed, a few of them to go
wrong, the whole kingdom would be under
water. The system of drainage in the fields
is admirable. Canals or drains are cut
transversely as well as parallel, each being
proportioned in its width to the quantity of water it
is required to carry off.

One important branch of trade, the great
herring-fishery, is largely carried on at
Scheveningen; as many as from five to six millions of
herrings being frequently taken and conveyed
in dog-carts to the Hague. The arrival of these
fish creates a great sensation, and, in due time,
extensive occupation in the way of curing,
drying, and otherwise preparing them for export.
For considerable quantities, larger carts are
employed, shaped on the model of the canals and
ditches around, being very wide at the top and
very narrow at the bottom. The driver sits
upon whatever he can, and drives wherever he
likes. A pair of horses pull one of these vehicles
along at a rapid pace, and, as it is very large and
jolts immensely, its noise is almost equal to
that of a couple of pieces of artillery thundering
along on their carriages.

The lions of the Hague are (as everybody
knows) the Picture Gallery, the Palace, and the
Japanese Museum.

The interior of the palace combines elegance
with comfort. The rooms are handsomely but
plainly and solidly furnished; the curtains are
of the richest and heaviest and warmest material,
and the carpets feel like moss beneath the
feet. They are dark crimson, and of a
peculiarly rich soft texture, the manufactory of
which is at Utrecht. The glass chandeliers and
other similar ornaments are from Maestricht,
and the furniture from Amsterdam. Thus the
whole furnishing of the palace is executed by
Dutch artists, out of Dutch manufactories,
and gives employment chiefly to Dutch
artisans. The Opera House at the Hague is
very small, but prettily and comfortably fitted
up. Dutch and French plays are performed on
alternate nights. Dutch music can hardly claim
a high place.

Leyden, also written Leiden, is pronounced
in England as if it were either Layden or Leeden,
both of which pronunciations are wrong; the
name being prohounced as if written Lyden
by those who ought to know best—to wit, the
people who live in it. That there are any such
people is not the fault of Valdez or his generals
during the memorable siege of 1574. Its
wonderful and noble defence, and the heroic
conduct of Van de Werff, and the Commander Van
der Doos, have given Leyden a reputation like
that of Saragossa or Sebastopol. Its university,
once one of the greatest schools of medicine in
Europe, is no longer what it was, but is yet of
much eminence. In medicine and natural
philosophy, Leyden ranked not less high than did
Utrecht as a school of law and political
economy. The number of students in the
former is about three hundred, and in Utrecht
four hundred. Groningen averages also four
hundred.

The great organ of Haarlem and the tulip-roots
of Haarlem are the only things connected with
the place that most of us have ever heard of. The
tulip mania has long ceased, but the reputation
of the organ subsists unimpaired. It stands in