think proper to select. Next comes the aansprecher, a very noticeable person in Amsterdam and the large towns, and a relic of bygone times, probably the ancient feudal herald. (Mutes and nodding plumes, and all the various trappings and frippery of our own funerals, are without doubt heraldic and feudal in their origin.) A herald he certainly is, and of woe, for it is his duty, taking a list of friends and acquaintance, to go round to all with a message in set form to the effect that mynheer so and so (next follow his titles, dignities, and offices) is dead. Everybody then puts on some sign of mourning, and goes that very day, the day of death, to the house, where the family sit in the drawing-room ready to receive condolences. Is it possible to imagine any more trying formality for all to go through? Yet there the bereaved one's remain, in the house of death, in the darkened chamber, compelled to display their grief in the presence of all their friends, and to say a few words to each in answer to their expressions of sympathy and grief. Even a little toddling thing of four or five will march up to mevrouw and utter its little set speech about "sad loss," which is certain to produce a fresh outburst of grief and tears. To crown all, any visitor can ask, is even expected to ask, for a last view of the dead body of their friend as it lies in a sort of state in the shell. The funeral is always an expensive affair. Many aansprechers, occasionally forty or fifty, seem to be required. Undertakers' coaches are there without end, and friends send their empty carriages to swell the state as with our selves. Ladies wear very deep crape and long veils. The widow's veil reaches to her feet for the first few weeks; she wears no cap, but her mourning, with a gradually shortening veil, lasts two years. A gentleman in deep mourning is expected to go about at all hours for six weeks in black, with a dress tail-coat and white necktie !

On the 5th of December, St. Nicholas, the only saint in the reformed Dutch calendar, revisits the glimpses of the moon, to reward all good children, and to threaten the bad. He generally appears as an old man, with a mantle of fur and a long white beard-mynheer, or the eldest son disguised. The saint has a knack of recollecting all the peccadilloes committed

for a long time past by the little ones, and allots the gifts, which he carries in a wallet by his side, in accordance with conduct; so that his coming is looked for by all with mingled hopes and fears. It is becoming more and more the custom for everybody in the house to give a present to everybody, so that the number of trifles bought throughout the country is enormous, and the custom, while it inflicts no little tax upon the store of pocket-money, is the occasion of much mysterious ingenuity in discovering what present will be most acceptable. The following story was told to the writer as a fact, perhaps, to test his credulity.

A young gentleinan in Amsterdam had been a year or two ago paying his addresses without success to a young lady. The father of the maiden was altogether obdurate and could not be induced to favor the suit; but the swain had observed certain symptoms which led him to believe that his attentions were not wholly unacceptable to the lady. When the festival of St. Nicholas approached, some waggish friends proposed a plan of offering his hand and heart, the drollery of which might possibly soften the unwilling father and assure the lady of the entire devotion of his person.

On the eve of St. Nicholas a long and rather narrow box, with some holes in the lid, was conveyed to the house of Mynheer addressed to Jufvrouw with the swain's compliments, in addition to which, without the latter's knowledge, the facetious friends had painted in large letters, "een dikke vrijer," a fat lover. The box arrived at the usual five-o'clock dinner hour, and the daughter seeing the box in the hall, and reading the address, wished at once to open it. But her father, who perhaps smelt a rat, and knew better than his daughter the possible humors of the day, said, "No, let us have dinner first, and meanwhile have the box brought into the dining-room." With some trouble the box was removed there by the maids

dinner dragged its slow length along, was artfully protracted, and the opening of the box kept in abeyance until it was almost time to go to bed. Then the hammer was missing-the screw-driver could not be found-and at last the opening of the wonderful box put off until next morning. "Goede nacht, slaap goed," all departed, save Mynheer, the father.

With bed-candle in hand, he went to the box, listened carefully for a moment or two, and then giving the box a slight kick, proceeded to moralize aloud: "What a fool that little donkey of a fellow is to suppose I will ever let him have my daughter? I wonder what he has sent her! what can these little holes be for? ah! here is one of mevrouw's knitting-needles-let us poke one in and see if we can make out."

"For God's sake don't," said a stifled voice from the box, or you will poke my eye out!"

"Bless me, who's this? what can it be ?"

"I am Mynheer F," said the voice; "for heaven's sake let me out; I can't stand it much longer."

"Will you promise never to speak to my daughter again, if I do ?" "No, I won't, I'll die first."

"Very well then-good night."

girl, therefore, who longs to escape from the hard labor of field-work-for a heavy portion of this is done by females-considers herself fortunate indeed, if some kindly-disposed housekeeper should take her in and teach her some domestic work. Few servants are kept, and indeed there is not work enough for many. For, in the first place, the ladies of the house do a great deal of household work in the early morning, and throughout the day disdain to have done for them what they can do for themselves. You never hear an everlasting running up and down stairs and ringing of bells, and "bring this," and "go up to my room and fetch that," and, "shut the window," and "put on some coals," which after all is nothing more than finding work for an otherwise ornamental servant, and a fanciful luxury for a lazy mistress. And, secondly, as has been said, the quantity of furniture in each room, though the rooms them

"Now I am a free man," said the latter, in a somewhat weak voice-and no wonder-"I give my free promise, as you have saved my life, not to speak to your daughter again without your permission."

"Well," rejoined the father, kicking the box, "if you have not done for her more than most sweet-hearts would, you have certainly got into less."

Small wit on the one side, and diplomatic gratitude on the other, made them so well pleased that they shook hands and parted such good friends, that F. soon after overcame Mynheer pugnance to the match, and before the next St. Nicholas won the lady too.

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is by no means great, so that household work is readily done, even by a domestic who knows little more than how to rub and wipe. The housemaid, however, of a newly-married couple has a rather hard berth of it for the first few months; for the top of the new dining-room table is sent to its purchaser in the rough, and has to be polished every morning for a couple of hours or so with linseed oil and plenty of elbow grease. The effect, if the end is glorious, and lasts for ever. No plates, however hot, will dim its glories, and it continues to shine to the end of its existence, and with little care, clear and bright as a mirror. And then again, the last finish to household work is probably done by more delicate hands, for until "coffee-drinking," at twelve o'clock, a visitor must expect to see little of the ladies. The pickling and preserving, the preparation of fruit for the table, those mighty dishes of beans and peas, the sidedishes and other delicacies for the day, all bear signs of a delicate touch and a cultivated intelligence. In the season of shrimps, which, like the fish, are brought all alive and kicking to the house, the prettiest of fingers are employed for a couple hours at least in preparing a dish which is surely never seen out of Holland. Fancy at twelve o'clock "coffee drinking," when the centre of the table is occupied by a large dish with an elegant pyramid of

a peck or so of ready shelled shrimps, which you eat wholesale with a spoon! and very fine eating they are too.

Actual wages are low: 57. or 67. a year for a plain cook or housemaid; but the national institution of "tips" supplements pretty fairly these low wages. Nobody thinks of going out of doors without a supply of half-gulden, to give as occasion may require; and occasions often do require; for a half gulden at least is expected in return for any little service performed by your friends' servants, other than that of simply opening the street-door. This is an arrangement so perfectly understood and acted upon by all, that people who see a great deal of company pay their servants smaller wages than do those who live more retired from the world. It should be known that all presents to servants are put into a general fund, which is equitably divided at definite intervals. By this custom, cooks and other servants whom visitors have no opportunity of seeing, but whose services materially contribute to the comfort of his visit, participate in the donation given at the door or in the bedroom; but the coachman, who expects something, if even you accompany your friend in his own carriage, keeps what he gets for his own pocket. The regular tariff of a half-gulden, which is very seldom exceeded-and no wonder, considering how often the tax is levied-makes the custom tolerable and even agreeable to the giver. How often one would be well pleased to acknowledge some little service or civility from a friend's servant by a quiet little sixpenny tip, which John or Mary would take as a matter of course with a bow or curtsey, and not think you a mean fellow for not giving half-a-crown, which would be at least five times too much for the occasion. Knowing half a-crown to be too much, a shilling a vague mean, and ashamed to offer the proper sum, sixpence, you give nothing, and go away with the pleasant feeling that you are under unpaid obligations; and have a kind of uncertainty about your exact relations with aforesaid John or Mary when you may next require some similar service at their hands. We are coming rapidly to the half-crown-or-nothing system, which is bad for everybody. Bad for the rich who do not get enough for their money; for those not rich, who are called stingy, and feel something like it, when it is bash

fulness alone that makes them seem so; and for the servants, who get into the way of estimating their master's friends at a purely money value, and treat them ac cordingly.

No nation has in its time fought and suffered so much for religion as the Dutch. Freedom, religious and political, gained by the blood of their forefathers so lavishly shed, they now enjoy to the fullest extent. This freedom, supported as it is by proud recollections of former glories, by the subtle influence of an almost uncontaminated mother-tongue, by present tranquil prosperity, and by the feeling strong in every Dutchman's breast, that his dykes give him the power of destroying, Samsonlike, in a supreme moment, himself and foes together in one tremendous act of annihilation, render the nation one of the most patriotic in the world. And they are an eminently religious people too.

If the

The comparatively smaller bodies of Lutherans and Roman Catholics excepted, the Dutch Reformed Church represents the religion of the country. The members of this rank themselves Orthodox, and Liberal or Modern. The former class are now to be found in full strength in the country districts; but the people of the towns are pretty evenly divided between the two. The Liberal, or Modern, as the more advanced are called, are of recent growth, and owe their existence chiefly to the preaching of a few eloquent men still living; but also, of course, to the general tendency in these days of religious thought, which has been so largely influenced by the free handling of the Scriptures. Liberals may be described as representing the broadest of our Broad-churchmen, the Moderns, advancing, as they rapidly are, beyond the region of belief in dogma and miracle, hold doctrines differing scarcely, if at all, from those of Unitarians. The Orthodox, as their name implies, represent those whose faith resists novelties unknown to the early Reformers. Ministers of all denominations are paid by the state, at a general average of 250l. a year with a parsonage; but none can claim pay, those of the Reformed Church who are appointed to regular parishes excepted, until a congregation is formed in sufficient numbers to justify the demand. There is a religious parochial system, but not of that very rigid kind, which some of us think a burden, others a bond of love; for, in

Amsterdam and other large towns, where there are several churches, the clergy preach in circuit; and every week a list is posted of the various churches and of the clergymen who will conduct the services. Accordingly, if a person made a practice of going to his own parish church, he would hear on one Sunday the highest orthodox tenets upheld, and on the next, perhaps, a denial of all the distinctive doctrines of Christianity. This usage does beyond all doubt explain, to a very important extent, the exceedingly rapid spread of "modern" ideas; but it also effectually eradicates any scions that might spring of that highly respectable British superstition which intercepts all straying from one's own parochial fold. For, almost as a matter of course, as nobody has any particular affection for the mere bricks and mortar, and I may add, copious whitewash, of his own parish church-everybody goes to the church where a favorite preacher is to be found; and ladies, those gentle but determined enthusiasts, will often stand outside for hours beforehand to secure a place where Domini Pantekoek or other great orator may be heard. The order of service is similar, in most respects, to that in use among Presbyterian and other kindred bodies. This being an easily ascertained fact, the language also being an unknown tongue, an English visitor, terrified by reports of the length of the service, seldom attempts the feat of going to a Dutch church, unless with the slightly profane objects of the sight-seer. If, however, a laudable curiosity should be of force at once to prompt and absolve, he will see and hear not a little to interest, and beguile the time.

No right-minded person of course ought to know how other people behave in church; but if a man, devout indeed, but ignorant of the language of the service, should allow himself to look around in a Dutch Reformed church, he will get a general idea that the order of service is similar in most respects to that of other Presbyterian bodies. He will observe, that the church, large as it almost without exception is, and of considerable antiquity (there are not half-dozen new churches in Holland), is not too large for the congregation as it crowded in. Most of the men walked in with their hats on, and a low buzz of conversation was kept up by people taking their places, a layman mean

while reading in a monotonous way a short portion of Scripture. Nothing can well be more irreverent than this commencement of the service, and most Dutch people themselves deplore it. A psalm is given out by the clergyman. The book of psalms dates back to Reformation times; and contains the tunes also, printed in ancient diamond-shaped notes, representing and sung in ecclesiastical time. A semibreve requires at least three seconds, and a minim six, for full expression; and the congregation seem determined to give each its full value. In the interval between these prolonged notes, which are sung with full power of voice, the organ seems to go mad in a rapid succession of harmonic chords up and down the scale, and just when the lungs have been thoroughly exhausted by shouting out a lengthy semibreve, comes with a rapid run and a crash upon the next chord for singing; and when the voices have settled down to tackle this, off it goes again into such heights and depths, that one trembles to think it may lose altogether its hold upon the voice, were it not certain of its mark, as poor Leotard used to be after a fling and double summersault from his flying trapeze. But after all, the singing, plain to such a degree that it is difficult to discover melody, from mere bigness of sound when a vast number of voices are all singing at their strongest in unison, is not without a certain rugged grandeur. The preacher is listened to with deep attention, and speaks, assisted by his huge sounding-board, with a good deal of graceful action and much energy, in tones modulated to reach the farthermost corners of the huge fabric. The study of oratory as an art evidently forms part of the clerical training. There are invariably two collections during the service; one for the poor, and one for church expenses; and everybody makes a point of giving a trifle. Men and women sit on opposite sides, or men outside and women in the centre; and the latter have to pay, during the winter, a third small sum for the use of a foot-warmer, for the churches are bitterly cold.

Religious instruction by some authorized person is held to be an essential part of every Dutch child's education; and without a formal certificate of attendance upon classes for the purpose, and of confirmation, neither rich nor poor can claim