vies the lot of the inhabitants. The streets
being very narrow and provided with canals, one does not ride in
carriages, but on horseback, and small boats are used for the
transportation of merchandise. The houses, which are very low, have
two doors--the birth door, and the death door, through which one only
passes in a coffin. The roofs of these houses shine as if they were of
burnished steel, and everything is so scrupulously clean that I
remember seeing, outside a blacksmith's shop, a sort of lamp hanging
up, which was gilded and polished as though intended for a lady's
chamber. The women of the people in this part of Holland seemed to me
very handsome, but were so timid that the sight of a stranger made
them run away at once. I suppose, however, that the presence of the
French in their country may have tamed them.

We finally visited Amsterdam, and there I saw in the town hall the
magnificent painting by Van Loo representing the assembled aldermen. I
do not believe that in the whole realm of painting there is anything
finer, anything truer; it is nature itself. The aldermen are dressed
in black; faces, hands, draping--all done inimitably. These men are
alive; you think you are with them. I persuaded myself that this
picture must be the most perfect of its kind; I could not tear myself
away from it, and the impression it made on me was strong enough to
make it ever present in my mind.

We returned to Flanders to see the masterpieces of Rubens. They were
hung much more advantageously than they have been since in Paris, for
they all produce a wonderful effect in those Flemish churches. Other
works by the same master adorn some private galleries. In one of them,
at Antwerp, I found the famous "Straw Hat," which has lately been sold
to an Englishman for a large sum. This admirable picture represents a
woman by Rubens. It delighted and inspired me to such a degree that I
made a portrait of myself at Brussels, striving to obtain the same
effects. I painted myself with a straw hat on my head, a feather, and
a garland of wild flowers, holding my palette in my hand. And when the
portrait was exhibited at the Salon I feel free to confess that it
added considerably to my reputation. The celebrated Mueller made an
engraving after it, but it must be understood that the dark shadows of
an engraving spoiled the whole effect of such a picture. Soon after my
return from Flanders, the portrait I had mentioned, and several other
work