Pilgrimages to the Spas in Pursuit of Health and Recreation / With an inquiry into the comparative merits of different mineral waters: the maladies to which they are applicable, and those in which they are injurious

by James Johnson

HAERLEM.

This is a phrenological city, distinguished by a remarkable bump—the largest “organ of music” in the world. But there is a greater lion in Haerlem than the great organ—one whose distant roarings have struck more terror into the heart of John Bull than did ever Napoleon, with his legions at Boulogne. This monstrous birth of the French revolution—this offspring of atheism and education, in which the orthodox light is extinguished—

“Monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens, cui lumen ademptum,”

is neither more nor less than a “normal school.” As this term is not in Johnson’s Dictionary, it is inferred by our home oracles, that it exists not in any language, ancient or modern. As I cannot give its derivation, I shall try at its definition. It is a school where “boys and girls are taught the rudiments of knowledge without wrangling about creeds.” It is alike open to the Jew and the Gentile, the Protestant and Catholic, the Baptist and Anabaptist, the Unitarian and Trinitarian. Now as each of these sects holds its own theology to be the true orthodox one, I do not see how any one form of religious instruction can be combined with elementary education. We might as well try to force the same note on all the inmates of a menagerie, as the same creed on all the elèves of a normal school. And, after all, why should theology be taken out of the hands of the pastor, to be put into those of the pedagogue? May not letters be taught without a Liturgy—and cyphering without a Catechism? We see that, in two of the most Protestant countries—Prussia and Holland—the system works well, at least peaceably. The children of various sects can learn to read without ridiculing, and to write without stigmatizing each other’s creeds. They live in peace while acquiring the rudiments of human knowledge at school—and they repair to the chapels or synagogues of their parents to hear the word of God, where it is most properly delivered. A youthful harmony or even friendship is thus generated among all persuasions, and is never afterwards entirely obliterated.

But I imagine that an unnecessary dread of this “tree of knowledge,” whose mortal fruit—

“Brought death into the world and all our woe,”

is entertained by the good people of England. Reading, writing, and arithmetic do not constitute knowledge, but merely the machinery by which it may be afterwards acquired. These rudiments are, like the types of the printer distributed in their compartments—void of learning or science in themselves, till they are worked up by the compositor—who, himself is only an instrument in the hands of a higher agent. “The instruction given in the schools (says an excellent observer, Mr. Chambers) is deficient of nearly all that bears on the cultivation of the perceptive and reflective faculties, and consequently the expansion of the intellect.” This education rarely extends beyond reading, writing, arithmetic, and geography—while the superior orders are taught the French language. At or under 14 years of age, the child leaves school and merges on the ordinary avocations of life. There is in Holland nearly a total absence of scientific instruction. Words not things are taught, and no taste is generated for literature. Yet this elementary education at school, and religious instruction at home, have rendered the people remarkable for order, piety, and morality. In no other country is there so little crime or squalid poverty.

I wish I could say as much for civil as for religious liberty in this country. The press is more completely muzzled than any cart-dog in London. The latter may open his jaws so far as to growl; but the press is hermetically sealed in this submarine territory. No book can be translated or published without the censor’s license—nay, a hand-bill, announcing the importation of Warren’s blacking or Morrison’s pills, cannot be printed or affixed to a wall, without a license and a stamp! In a conversation with an intelligent Dutchman respecting this restriction on the press, I was completely silenced by the following argument. I believe, said the gentleman, that in your profession, prevention is considered to be better than cure. I assented. Then, said he, I observe in all your newspapers that people are tried, and sometimes severely punished, for publishing libels, although the authors may not believe them to be such at the time of writing them. Now the paternal Government of Holland prevents such misfortunes and evils from happening to its subjects, by examining the document before publication, and thus taking on itself the responsibility, in case it should turn out afterwards to be libellous. There was no answering this argument. The Dutch are the most patient animals that ever lived beneath a yoke, or bowed beneath a load of taxes. Talk of John Bull’s rates and taxes! They are bagatelles compared to those in Holland! Every species of business, from the cobbler to the ship-builder, is taxed after a graduated scale, varying from a few shillings to twenty or thirty pounds annually. Every dwelling, every window, door, fireplace—even the furniture, is taxed according to its value! The taxes on houses are more than a fourth of the rent! The necessaries of life are, in fact, extremely dear, and were it not for the solace of tobacco, gin, and coffee, the poorer classes of Dutchmen would die in their dykes under the pressure of hunger and taxation, notwithstanding their loyalty to King, and love of Vaderland!