midable
monarchy of Philip II., and founded a republic which became the ark of
salvation for the freedom of all peoples, the adopted home of the
sciences, the exchange of Europe, the station of the world's commerce;
a republic which extends its dominion to Java, Sumatra, Hindostan,
Ceylon, New Holland, Japan, Brazil, Guiana, the Cape of Good Hope, the
West Indies, and New York; a republic that conquered England on the
sea, that resisted the united armies of Charles II. and of Louis XIV.,
that treated on terms of equality with the greatest nations, and for a
time was one of the three powers that ruled the destinies of Europe.

It is no longer the grand Holland of the eighteenth century, but it is
still, next to England, the greatest colonizing state of the world. It has
exchanged its former grandeur for a quiet prosperity; commerce has been
limited, agriculture has increased; the republican government has lost its
form rather than its substance, for a family of patriotic princes, dear to
the people, govern peaceably in the midst of the ancient and the newer
liberties. In Holland are to be found riches without ostentation, freedom
without insolence, taxes without poverty. The country goes on its way
without panics, without insurrections,--preserving, with its fundamental
good sense, in its traditions, customs, and freedom, the imprint of its
noble origin. It is perhaps amongst all European countries that nation in
which there is the best public instruction and the least corruption.
Alone, at the extremity of the continent, occupied with its waters and
its colonies, it enjoys the fruits of its labors in peace without
comment, and can proudly say that no nation in the world has purchased
freedom of faith and liberty of government with greater sacrifices.

Such were the thoughts that stimulated my curiosity one fine summer
morning at Antwerp, as I was stepping into a ship that was to take me
from the Scheldt to Zealand, the most mysterious province of the
Netherlands.

ZEALAND.

If a teacher of geography had stopped me at some street-corner, before
I had decided to visit Holland, and abruptly asked me, "Where is
Zealand?" I should have had nothing to say; and I believe I am not
mistaken in the supposition that a great number of my fellow-citizens,
if asked the same question, would find it difficult to answer. Zealand
is somewhat mysterious even to the Dutch themselves; very few of them
have seen it, and of those