er, who had so successfully handled the Assembly of
Gelderland and Overyssel, now sailed across the Zuiderzee from Kampen to
Amsterdam. On his approach to the stately northern Venice, standing full
of life and commercial bustle upon its vast submerged forest of Norwegian
pines, he was met by a fleet of yachts and escorted through the water
gates of the into the city.

Here an immense assemblage of vessels of every class, from the humble
gondola to the bulky East Indianian and the first-rate ship of war, gaily
bannered with the Orange colours and thronged from deck to topmast by
enthusiastic multitudes, was waiting to receive their beloved stadholder.
A deafening cannonade saluted him on his approach. The Prince was
escorted to the Square or Dam, where on a high scaffolding covered with
blue velvet in front of the stately mediaeval town-hall the burgomasters
and board of magistrates in their robes of office were waiting to receive
him. The strains of that most inspiriting and suggestive of national
melodies, the 'Wilhelmus van Nassouwen,' rang through the air, and when
they were silent, the chief magistrate poured forth a very eloquent and
tedious oration, and concluded by presenting him with a large orange in
solid gold; Maurice having succeeded to the principality a few months
before on the death of his half-brother Philip William.

The "Blooming in Love," as one of the Chambers of "Rhetoric" in which
the hard-handed but half-artistic mechanics and shopkeepers of the
Netherlands loved to disport themselves was called, then exhibited upon
an opposite scaffold a magnificent representation of Jupiter astride upon
an eagle and banding down to the Stadholder as if from the clouds that
same principality. Nothing could be neater or more mythological.

The Prince and his escort, sitting in the windows of the town-hall, the
square beneath being covered with 3000 or 4000 burgher militia in full
uniform, with orange plumes in their hats and orange scarves on their
breasts, saw still other sights. A gorgeous procession set forth by the
"Netherlandish Academy," another chamber of rhetoric, and filled with
those emblematic impersonations so dear to the hearts of Netherlanders,
had been sweeping through all the canals and along the splendid quays of
the city. The Maid of Holland, twenty feet high, led the van, followed by
the counterfeit presentment of each of her six sisters. An orange tree
full of flowers and fruit was conspicuous