On Sunday morning, we visited the new church, the organ of which is said to be the largest in Europe, and to exceed the celebrated one at Haarlem. After this, we went to the Stadt-house, one of the most magnificent buildings in Europe; the foundation-stone of which, was laid in the year 1648; it is built of freestone, two hundred and eighty-eight feet in length, two hundred and thirty-five broad, and one hundred and sixteen in height, to the top of the roof. The grand saloon is one hundred and twenty feet long, and one hundred high. We ascended the tower, the view from whence my friend C⸺ described to be most extensive, and extremely beautiful, commanding the whole of the town and harbour, and a considerable surface both of land and water.
We were anxious to have visited the dock-yard, and a variety of other places in this interesting city, but it became necessary that we should prepare for our respective departures, as I had determined to set off to Haarlem, on my way to Brussels, at five in the evening; and much of our time was frittered away in the unavoidable arrangements for conveyances, &c. I was induced, in preference to taking the diligence for Rotterdam, to pass by the barge through the Hague, as this would afford me the better opportunity of gaining an acquaintance with the country and its inhabitants.
I shall not attempt to enter into any particular description of the city of Amsterdam, but merely observe, that I was forcibly impressed with an idea of its similarity to Venice; both are situated on marshy grounds, in the immediate vicinity of the sea, and intersected by canals, which divide them into innumerable small islands; but the farther parallel is certainly in favour of the latter; for although Pope tells us, that
“Venice from dirt, and sea-weeds rose;”
yet I think the natural salubrity of its climate, as well as the general superiority of its buildings, and more extensive display of specimens of the fine arts, would prove greater attractions in the eyes of the stranger. With respect to the point of salubrity, the canals of Venice are more uniformly covered with water than those of Amsterdam, which offer a surface of mud, and hence fewer noxious exhalations are here generated; not that I am ignorant that Venice is far from being a healthy summer residence, in consequence of injurious miasmata, raised from its very foundations, by the intensity of the solar ray.
The atmosphere of Amsterdam is greatly impregnated with moisture, and the place necessarily very damp, which must favour the production and aggravation of rheumatic disease; the liability to which, is perhaps the best excuse that can be made for the general use of tobacco by its inhabitants.
It is true, that the above custom also suits the calculating notions of the Dutch. I am on this point forcibly reminded of the observation of a solitary and smoking Dutchman, when Dr. Moore had expressed, through the medium of an interpreter, his regret at being unable to converse with him, in consequence of his ignorance of the Dutch language; and which was to this effect: “They ought to console themselves for the accident of not understanding each other; for as they had no connexions, or dealings in trade together, their conversing could not possibly answer any useful purpose.”
The moment now arrived, when I was to be separated from my very kind friend, with whom I had, on the present tour, travelled more than fourteen hundred miles; we cheered the painful moments of parting, by the anticipations of soon meeting again. We fortunately had little time to spend in useless regrets, for the boat, when we reached the canal, was on the point of setting off, and they make it a rule to wait for no one; even an English gentleman, who was in expectation of the momentary arrival of two friends to accompany him, was obliged to stay behind, because they would not tarry an instant after the signal bell had rung. This was a source of regret to my friend, as he had taken much pains to interest him in my favour, and, indeed, I promised myself some pleasure from travelling in his company. Not that my heart was sufficiently frenchified, to be capable of suddenly expanding to the warmth of a new friendship; no! I preferred indulging in the delightful emotions inspired in it, by the recollections of my late amiable companion; of whose uniform kindness, and anxious concern for me, I shall never—never cease to be most sensible.