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.