AMSTERDAM—WITHOUT WATER.
An amusing and lively account of this capital, its public institutions, society, painters, &c. may be found in a small volume, entitled “Voyage par la Hollande,” published by a French visitant in 1806. This is probably the most recent sketch of Amsterdam. With the exception of the conversion of the stadt-house into a king’s palace, and the establishment of certain societies, its general aspect and character have undergone little change for a century past; insomuch that “Le Guide d’Amsterdam,” published by Paul Blad in 1720, may be regarded as forming a correct and useful pocket-companion at the present day. The descriptions given of the Dutch towns by Mr. Ray in 1663, Dr. Brown in 1668, Mr. Misson in 1687, and Dr. Northleigh in 1702, are applicable in almost every particular to the same towns at the present day; so comparatively stationary has Holland been, or so averse are the people to changes.
That fuel should be scarce and dear in Amsterdam, the capital of a country destitute of coal-mines, and growing very little wood, might be expected; but, surrounded and intersected by canals as the city is, it is surprising that another of the necessaries of life, pure water, should be a still scarcer commodity: yet such is the case. There is no water fit for culinary purposes in Amsterdam but what is brought by boats from the Vecht, a distance of fifteen miles; and limpid water is brought from Utrecht, more than twice that distance, and sold in the streets by gallon measures, for table use, and for making of tea and coffee.[303]
[303] Horticultural Tour.
For the Table Book.
REASON,
If not Rhyme.
Dame Prudence whispers marry not
’Till you have pence enough to pay
For chattels, and to keep a cot,
And leave a mite for quarter-day.
Beside chair, table, and a bed,
Those need, who cannot live on air,
Two plates, a basket for the bread,
And knives and forks at least two pair.
When winter rattles in the sky
Drear is the bed that wants a rug,
And hapless he whose purse is dry
When sickness calls for pill and drug.
So, Bess, we’ll e’en put off the day
For parson C—— to tie us fast—
Who knows but luck, so long away,
May come and bide with us at last?
Hope shall be ours the tedious while;
We’ll mingle hearts, our lips shall join
I’ll only claim thy sweetest smile,
Only thy softest tress be mine.
Verite.
For the Table Book.
SONG,
Imitated from the German of Hölty.
Wer wollte sich mit Grillen plagen, &c.
Who—who would think of sorrowing
In hours of youth and blooming spring,
When bright cerulean skies are o’er us,
And sun-lit paths before us—
Who—who would suffer shade to steal
Over the forehead’s vernal light,
Whilst young Hope in her heav’n-ward flight
Oft turns her face round to reveal
Her bright eye to the raptur’d sight—
Whilst Joy, with many smiles and becks,
Bids us pursue the road he takes.
——Still, as erst, the fountain plays,
The arbour’s green and cool,
And the fair queen of night doth gaze
On earth, as chastely beautiful
As when she op’d her wond’ring eyes
First—on the flowers of Paradise.
Still doth, as erst, the grape-juice brighten
The heart in fortune’s wayward hour—
And still do kindred hearts delight in
Affection’s kiss in evening-bower.
Still Philomela’s passionate strain
Bids long-fled feelings come again.
The world, to me, is wond’rous fair—
So fair, that should I cease to hold
Communion with its scenes so dear,
I’d think my days were nearly told.
R. W. D.