ich they were timed to fall at intervals of a few seconds--a
form of torture imported, I believe, from China, and after some hours
ending inevitably in madness and death. Beside such a refinement
the rack is a mere trifle and the Gevangenpoort's branding irons and
thumb screws become only toys. A block, retaining the cuts made by the
axe after it had crashed through the offending neck, is also shown;
and the names of prisoners written in their blood on the walls may
be traced. The building is a monument in stone of what man can do to
man in the name of justice.

I referred just now to the Nieuwe Kerk, the resting-place of the
De Witts. There lies also their contemporary, Spinoza, whose home
at Rynsburg we shall pass on our way to Katwyk from Leyden. His
house at The Hague still stands--near his statue. The Groote Kerk
is older; but neither church is particularly interesting. From the
Groote Kerk's tower one may, however, see a vast deal of country
around The Hague--a landscape containing much greenery--and in the
west the architectural monsters of Scheveningen only too visible. We
shall reach Scheveningen in the next chapter, but while at The Hague
it is amusing to visit the fish market in order to have sight of the
good women of that town clustered about the stalls in their peculiar
costume. They are Scheveningen's best. The adjoining stadhuis is a
very interesting example of Dutch architecture.

The Hague has excellent shops, and one street--the Lange Pooten--more
crowded in the evening, particularly on Sunday evening, than any I
know. Every Dutch town has certain crowded streets in the evening,
because to walk up and down after dinner is the national form of
recreation. There are in the large cities a few theatres and music
halls, and in the smaller, concerts in the summer; but for the most
part the streets and the cafes are the great attraction. Each town has
one street above all others which is frequented in this way. At The
Hague it is the Lange Pooten, running into Spui Straat; at Amsterdam
it is Kalverstraat.

Dutch shops are not very interesting, and the book-shops in
particular are a disappointment. This is because it is not a reading
people. The newspapers are sound and practical before all things:
business before pleasure is their motto; and native literature is
not fostered. Publishers who bring out new Dutch books usually do
so on the old subscription plan. But the book-shops testify to the
popularity