JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO HOLLAND. (Continued from p. 410.) DEAR J HAVING now seen Wednesday, every thing considered 6th August. worthy of notice in Rotterdam and its neighbourhood, this morning is fixed for setting off for the Hague, on the usual tour through Holland; and, being now better prepared to form some opinion regarding its extensive embankments, I shall here stop for a little, and endeavour to explain what occurs to me on the original state of the land of this curious and interesting country. The idea of a kingdom powerful in arms, and of great commercial intercourse, naturally suggests an extent of territory much beyond what Holland possesses. To give you some notion of its dimensions, I may be allowed to compare it to Yorkshire, the largest of our English counties. It is generally terined a new country, and is, in fact, the Delta of the Rhine, the Meuse, and the Scheldt, like similar tracts of land which we find at the mouths of the Nile, Ganges, &c. The formation of land at the embouchure of rivers, and some other peculiar situations on the sea shore, may easily be accounted for without supposing it to have any connection with a general principle or tendency in Nature towards an increase of dry land. With regard to the great flats of Holland, I have to observe, that the waters of the ocean being specifically heavier than the fresh water of the Rhine, &e. the salt water is found by observation to continue at the bottom in a distinct body, while the river water floats upon the surface as a separate film. I have, indeed, found, by experiments on most of the principal rivers in England, that, while the water lifted at the surface is perfectly fresh, the tidal water to the height of the level of the surface of the ocean preserves its saline taste. As suming these well-established data, we have only to apply them to the joint operation of the river speats, and the high tides of the sea, which in some measure counteract each other, and have produced an increase of land at the mouths of the Rhine and Meuse, and, indeed, at the mouths of all rivers similarly situate, where streams are VOL. V. not controlled by works of embank ment. There are still, however, some circumstances connected with the locality of Holland which are in a great measure peculiar to itself. In particular, its position at the apex of the great basin of the German Ocean, or North Sea, communicating with the Atlantic Ocean by the passage between the Orkney and Shetland Islands, on the British side, and the coast of Norway on the other. This aperture being no less than about 190 miles in breadth, it is obvious that every storm which agitates the Atlantic, especially with westerly winds, must not only tend to fill, but even to overcharge, the German Ocean; and, notwithstanding the several capacious friths or seas which ramify on each side of it, as the Forth and the Baltic, yet the rise of the waters during these storms which agitate the Atlantic, independently of the tides, must be great along the shores of Germany, Holland, and the Netherlands; for, although the Straits of Dover, measuring 21 miles across, might give considerable relief, this passage is also affected in a similar way by the waters of the Atlantic, which also gorge up the English Channel through the passage between the Isle of Ushant in France and the Land's End of England, which measures about 100 miles in width. Instead, therefore, of the Straits of Dover operating as a relief to the German Ocean, the extra wa ters of both seas meet here, counteract each other, and, under particular circumstances, have a tendency to gorge up the rivers, and deluge the low lands upon the coast of Holland. In these cases, let us trace the operation of the waters of the Rhine and of the Meuse. Into the mouths of these rivers the sea flows to its natural or adventitious level, and must, accordingly, lift or elevate the fresh waters of these streams in a proportional degree, causing them, while in an uncontrolled state, to inundate and overflow the adjoining country. The effect of this, often repeated by waters so much charged with mud and other earthy particles borne along with the current from the higher lands, would in time, by this process of irrigation, produce abundance of rank vegetation where there was none before, and would increase in other places that 38 which previously existed, till at length a considerable extent of swampy land would appear, and be left dry during the absence of storms and at low or neap tides, thereby forming extensive salt marshes. These would give rise to strong weeds and grasses, which would intercept and separate greater quantities of mud from the occasionally overflow ing waters, till an extent of land was produced, intersected, no doubt, by numerous pools of stagnant water, easily fordable by the adventurous settlers. A flat of greater length to seaward would thus be formed for the beds of the minor streams, whose banks would thereby not only be more frequently overflowed, but the main rivers being thus divided and separated, would become more languid in their courses, and a greater deposition would thereby take place even in their alvei or beds, which would thus be elevated, and lose that weight or depth and velocity so essentially necessary for carrying the alluvion from the higher lands into the depths of the ocean. In this manner, we find that the two great rivers of Holland, the Rhine and Meuse, have been separated into other minor rivers, such as the Waal, &c. -a circumstance which, in its ultimate effects, has greatly tended to increase and extend the land to seaward. When the original settlers of Holland entered upon the Herculean task of reclaiming the marshes thus formed, and of extending the duchy of Guelderland, it is perhaps to be regretted that their attention had not been more immediately directed towards collecting and embodying the whole of the minor streams into the two great rivers, by which the velocity of their current would have respectively been more constantly kept up until their final junction with the waters of the ocean, and thus a greater depth of water would have been preserved for transporting the shipping and trade of Holland. I, therefore, humbly conceive that the extensive tracts of swampy land forming the coast of Holland have been produced by the depositions of the Rhine and the Meuse, lifted up by the tidal waters of the ocean, and made to overflow these marshes, while charged with the drainage waters, containing large portions of mud and soil from the north ern provinces of Germany and France. Thus thegreat tract of unprofitable land seems to have been produced, which was destined to become, by the industry and patience of the Dutch, the fertile and commercial provinces of Holland, now part of the united kingdom of the Netherlands. For the economical and political history of this country, and for its manly and successful struggles against the Spanish yoke, and the status it has acquired among the na tions of Europe, I must refer you to the page of history. It may, however, be interesting to inquire what were the means employed in reclaiming such an extent of country, and defending it in a permanent state against the attacks of the ocean on the one hand, and from inundation on the other by the overflowing of the rivers. These important objects were obtained simply by the construction of embankments or mounds of earthy matters; but how, you will be apt to ask, were such immense works as the embankment of such an extent of sea coast, and the course of rivers, to be accomplished? In England we can understand the cutting of a canal for navigation, and the raising of mounds very considerable in their extent; nay, we know that tunnels or mines have been excavated under ground upwards of three miles in length, for conveying the trade of Leeds and Huddersfield, &c. through a mountain, to the manufac turing town of Manchester; and for the supply of that town with fuel, the late Duke of Bridgewater cut naviga ble canals under ground, which ramify through the coal field belonging to his Grace to the extent of about 25 miles in length. We know also, that great dikes or embankments have been thrown across England, between the Solway Frith and the River Tyne, and between the Friths of Forth and Clyde; but these are not once to be compared to the gigantic works of Holland, where the Dutch have had the seaward portion of their whole kingdom to embank against the tempestuous ocean, and also along the margins of the Rhine and Meuse, the powerful streams which ramify in numerous branches in every direction through that country, to the extent of many hundred miles! In forming an estimate, therefore, of the utility of the numerous canals and collateral cuts which pervade Holland, we are to understand that these works of excavation answer the twofold purpose of forming the basin for inland navigation, and affording stuff for the formation of these embankments, which are of such dimensions as to form spacious roads on the top, sufficiently broad for the passage of two carriages, and varying in height from a few feet even to ten yards, and producing a pretty extensive view of the country. Besides these excavations for canals, there are others of wide extent, which have been made to obtain peat or turf fuel; for here you can hardly go farther than the depth of a spadeful of earth without producing a pool of water. These immense works of excavation and embankment were originally the operations of private adventurers, as is still the case in England with works of this kind, but they are now to be considered as under the charge of the government under whose immediate concern and control they severally remain, forming, it is said, a very considerable source of wealth to the state; while a tax of no trifling amount is levied for the maintenance of the dikes and other works connected with the safety of the public, and requiring the greatest attention of skilful engineers, who are appointed to superintend and watch their repair. In all quarters of the kingdom we, at this period, observe that the King of the Netherlands has not only proper persons appointed over squads of artificers, but we learn that he personally visits and inspects the works in their progress, which had been much neglected and overlooked during the dynasty of Bonaparte, and from this circumstance the country was at several points considered to be in imminent danger, had it not thus been promptly attended to by the present government. (To be continued.) S. poem of Wallace, which is full of chivalric ardour and generous feeling, clothed in harmonious and spirited verse. Many of the lovers of poetry may also be acquainted with the power and variety of her muse from her less popular poem, Margaret of Anjou, a work in which external objects and human characters are often finely pourtrayed, and in which also strong and original conceptions of supernatural agency are ably displayed in a scene of incantation that might be put in competition with any thing of the kind in any language. But with this small poem, written, as I understand, to soothe the melancholy of her mind after the death of a beloved friend, whose sick-bed she had long and tenderly watched, few readers, perhaps, north of the Tweed may be acquainted. It opens with the following burst of elevated and generous admiration of the grandeur and beauty of Nature. Oh Earth! how fair thou art! With life, with mirth, With freshness, and with beauty, teemest thou! Say, was the morn that waked thee into birth, Than that which sheds its sunbeams on thee now, Of purer radiance, or of rosier glow? The clear calm sapphire of the cloudless sky, Noon's glance of splendour, gilding the tall brow Of some heav'n-climbing steep; or, these gone by, The mild control of eve's benignant majesty; The soft, night-wafted fragrance of the Strong in the battle, ardent in the chaceBut time past o'er their pride, and vacant was their place! Yet that dark, aged, solitary sire Stern, dark, and terrible—the people of the Past! Though the feelings and ideas expressed in the following stanzas are not original, but may almost be considered as coeval with sentimental poetry itself, yet the manner of expressing them is so pleasing and characteristic of that mood of mind from which the whole poem proceeds, that I cannot refrain from transcribing them. Who has no sigh to sanctify the past, No tear for memory? Who can steer his mind Right onward in life's road, nor pause to cast One yearning look on things left far be hind? Unenvied be his lot, though he shall find A level causeway and a cloudless day, And travel safe unskaith'd by fortune's wind, While we forlorn, with loitering footsteps stray, In vain to seek the forms which shared our earlier way! Ask those who touch the autumn of their year, The mellow side of their maturity, Why they do halt so oft in their career, Turning their glances tow'rd the eastern Neglectful of the hour which hastens by? sky, Oh! they will tell you, how, that long ago, This world, which now seems fading on their eye, Had skies all glittering bright in golden glow, Then sunshine blazed above, and verdure siniled below! There was a freshness in the ambient gale, There was a sparkle on the river's tide, The emerald's hue o'erspread each dewy vale, Then Flora laugh'd in all her gaudy pride, Her lovely train ten thousand colours dyed! That fragrant hawthorn deck'd the Maybush then! The very milkmaids, as they homeward hied, In those fair evenings, pour'd a blitber strain, Thrid back the maze of life; he talked Than e'er comes wafted now along the with those village lane! They wonder why so tuneless comes the chime From yon grey spire to cheer the rustic feast, For they can well recal the distant time, When those old bells, of some strange charm possest, With mirth of joy o'erfill'd the youthful breast! "Tis pleasant yet to think how merrily They echoed in the heart, ere manhood's guest, Grim care, such irksome music did supply, As dull'd all other sounds, the deep and slow heav'd sigh! After mentioning the return of spring, with no return of the power of enjoying it in those who have tasted of the sadness of human life, comes this sweet and tender stanza. Erst when thou camest, how our steps have press'd To snatch the first sweet gem thou didst awake! The violet lurking in its mossy nest, Or primrose, sprinkling o'er the dewy brake ! We spare them now for sad remembrance' sake, And they shall live their little lives, and stay Till frost, or blight, or worm their bloom o'ertake, Or till their fair heads drop in slow decay, They shall not lure us now to linger on our way. The dull calm of a desolate and be reaved mind is feelingly displayed in the two following: We ask no tidings of the passing hour, sour, Its little freight of pleasure and of care, Nor wake our fancy, nor our hearts ensnare! Our traffic o'er, the chiding of the blast Threats not our bark, and, though the wind be fair, It swells no sail of ours! Its anchor's cast, Our vessel rides at peace, life's shoals of quicksands past. The bitter drop is drain'd. The hour has come Which was to come to us! The sable thread Has cross'd our web! yea we have seen the tomb Close o'er the forms to which our souls were wed! Our sighs are silent now, our tears are shed, Shed in the dust! our bosom's secret core Affliction's dart has search'd; and it has bled, As once the heart can bleed, and bleed no more! That is which was to be, and now the strife is o'er ! The visionary abstraction of a mind dwelling only on the past is thus finely given. And thus it should be! some are born to hold, Deep written in their heart and in their brain, The story of the past so lively told, That time has journey'd o'er their heads in vain, For they do act life's drama o'er again! The present is a shadowy sketch, a dream, And all which to the present doth pertain, A form but half defin'd, a cloud, a gleam, The real is for them as though it did but seem! They wander in the same green spots, where Did make those paths so pleasant, still are nigh, Arm kindly linked in arm, for memory She recks not of the grave; again she brings The rescued pledges of her victory, E'en from the gulf where cease all mortal things, E'en from the grasp of fate, the precious prey she brings ! Having given as many extracts as it seems allowable to take from so short a poem, I may venture further to say, that the unity and tone of feeling which belong to an elegant and cultivated mind, depressed by sad and tender recollections, are sweetly and soothingly preserved through the whole; and the reader rises from the perusal of it with a melancholy that softens and betters the heart.-I am, &c. EXTRACTS FROM LATIMER'S FIRST SERMON PREACHED BEFORE KING EDWARD. [WE some time ago presented our readers with the translation of an exhortatory sermon, preached with singular boldness be Fruitfull Sermons preached by the Right Reuerend Father, and constant Martyr of Iesus Christ, M. Hvgh Latimer, &c. London, 1584. |