INTRODUCTION.

"OBSERVATIONS made in a Trip to Holland"-Ha! ha ha! And why that laugh, good Sir? You perhaps imagine, that a Belgic sky has something baneful in its influence; or that the man who has resided for any little time in Holland must necessarily become as dull and phlegmatic as many of its inhabitants? "I do." You imagine, likewise, that a Dutchman is totally devoid of sentiment; and that a Dutchwoman is an utter stranger to those finer affections of the soul, which so eminently characterize our own lovely countrywomen?

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Undoubtedly." Why, then, Sir, you are undoubtedly

mistaken.

A TRIP TO HOLLAND.

PACKET AT SEA.

A VERY heavy gale. The voice, however, of a Frenchman singing a petit chanson, struck upon my ear. Strange! exclaimed I, that a man should be thus easy, nay, even merry, during a storm at sea! My curiosity was raised: I inquired for the singer, and was conducted to him by the mate.

He was lying on a couch, evidently disordered by the motion of the vessel. Stranger still, thought I, that the animal spirits should thus triumph over the bodily affections; and I rallied him accordingly.

"Ah! Monsieur," cried he, "on m'a dit que le vaisseau est en danger, c'est pourquoi je chante pour chasser la peur."

"Pour chasser la peur?"

"Oui, Monsieur, car je n'ai jamais l'air triste-en un mot, je ne suis pas Anglais."

"You think an Englishman, then, the dullest of human beings?" "Sans doute," returned he, loud enough to be heard by his friend, a Dutchman, who was not a little pleased with the reply.

I complimented him on his voice, and on his excellent style in singing. "Is it possible that you can be serious?" said he. "I am an Englishman,” replied I. He smiled, and said no more; but he was evidently pleased. I

had gained his favour by commending his voice. flattery!-soft delusive flattery! how easily dost thou wind thyself about the heart of man!-how pleasing, how soothing art thou to the soul! I was ever afterwards his friend-his bon ami. Charmed with being thought a singer!-Be it so. And if friendships may be thus easily purchased, tell me, I pray ye, O sons and daughters of humanity! would you ever live without a friend?

HELVOETSLUYS.

I WAS glad to quit the vessel. Something like uneasiness, however, hung about my heart. "Is it possible," said I to myself," that I can have so much of the amor patriæ about me, as to be affected by a change of soil? Am I not still in a land of liberty? and am I not preparing to join my friends, who are now at the Hague?” The latter consideration was pleasing to me; but it was only the pleasure of a moment. I felt myself unhappy, but was totally mistaken in the cause.

I was at length awakened from the dream. "I have left in England every thing that is dear to me; my family and particular friends."-"If we should never meet again!" The thought was painful to me. "I will divert it," said I, " by wandering about the town." In this state of mind I found myself standing at the head of the pier. I cast my eyes upon the water—“ The sea divides us."-"If we should never meet again!" "Foolish thoughts!" exclaimed I, and instantly returned. to the inn.

Nothing can be more ridiculous than for a man to think of concealing his unhappiness by a show of jocularity and ease. Now, though I had reflected on this a hundred times before, and had as frequently observed

its effect, I was still weak enough to fall into the error which I so universally condemned. I imagined that my companions had discovered my grief-I was apprehensive that they knew the cause; and, to confess the truth, I dreaded the Frenchman's raillery. I was, accordingly, the merriest of the set. And was fearful of incurring his censure? Certainly not. How happens it, then, O casuists! that we are thus ashamed of feelings which would do the greatest honour to our nature, yet frequently boast of actions at which the barbarian has been known to shudder? I fear you are but ill pre pared to answer me.

But it is time to continue my journey. The Frenchman and I were left together at the inn. He was going immediately to the Hague-so was I. "If agreeable, Monsieur," said he, "I should be happy in accompanying you: I am somewhat enjoué, and it may possibly remove your uneasiness."

Now, though I would have given fifty ducats to have escaped his observation on the matter; and though I was somewhat vexed at his having mentioned it—I thanked him for his civility, and, I believe, with an appearance of gratitude. He had at once mortified and pleased me. The fault, however, was in myself.-He was evidently a man of discernment

I am resolved, thought I (putting my hat upon my head with some degree of violence), that, with similar feelings, I will never again appear the happiest of men.

THE COMMISSARY.

HELVOET.

THERE is little to be seen in Helvoetsluys. We there fore resolved on setting out immediately for Briel. A carriage was necessary, and it must necessarily be furnished