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filth thrown from the ships and the houses, and seemed by their numbers and their loud cries, as strange in the streets of a crowded city, as the storks I had seen at Scravendeel. But nothing was more new or singular, than to observe the numerous masculine occupations in which women were engaged. I do not speak merely of menial tasks appertaining to a household; although here, even, the diurnal scrubbing of the pavements devolved upon female domestics, and in several other respects, a yankee sees at least what he would not exact at home. Nor did I think so much of the ruddy milk-maid, who paraded the quay with a kind of yoke across the shoulders, balancing at one end a full pail of milk, and at the other a bright brass jar of cream. Nor were the market women, crying their fish or fruit under the windows, an object so singular. But I could not look with complacency upon the poor women, in their short gowns, and small muslin caps, wheeling along barrows, heavily laden with bricks, or unlading bags of coffee from a 'schuyt,' or packing herrings in casks, or helping to get on shore large bundles of fresh-cut grass from a hay-boat; all which were at the same moment directly under my eye, along the Boompjes. In short, some peculiar feature of Dutch manners, or other object of interest, always afforded subjects of observation and reflection, in this busy quarter of the city.

In landing my luggage, I had occasion again to notice the civil and gentlemanly deportment of the officers of the custom-house, who declined having the trunks opened for their inspection. Nor was there, in regard to the police, any of that vexatious formality, which the stranger encounters in many other parts of Europe, and even in England itself. Your passport must be endorsed by the proper authorities, but remain in your own possession, and you go where you please, unchallenged. The rest is purely an affair of your landlord, who is obliged to make a report to the police-office of all persons who lodge in his house. To this end, the servants present to you a blank, ruled in columns, with suitable caption, in Dutch, French, and English, wherein you enter your name, profession, residence, destination, and some other particulars of the same kind; and you are then free to attend to your business or pleasures, without any danger of molestation from the government.

In visiting a large city in Europe, if a stranger wishes to economize his time, and devote but a limited period to this object, he finds a guide, or valet de place, highly necessary, to conduct him from place to place. These persons are often attached to the hotel as domestics, and if not, are considered as belonging to the establishment. In Holland, they generally expect two florins for a day's service, and can be relied on, except where any purchase is to be made, when there is great danger of collusion between them and the trader, to their mutual advantage, and the loss of the traveller. It often happens, however, that the duties of a guide may be performed more to your satisfaction by some person whom you may casually encounter unemployed. But if you are acquainted with the language of the country, and have leisure for the purpose, it will be found quite as agreeable to take a map of the city and faithful guide-book, and seek out the objects of curiosity under your own guidance. In the Netherlands,

this is by no means difficult, because the French language is generally current, the national coin is simple and convenient, and the people are civil and considerate toward foreigners, especially in Holland.

Rotterdam is almost entirely a place of commerce; and as such, the streets are always full of bustle and animation. It is not at all distinguished for fashion, literary taste, or a cultivation of the fine arts. Theatrical representations, or other public spectacles, are by no means frequent; and there is no public gallery of pictures. Nor do the edifices and other monuments indicate the presence of a steady taste in architecture or sculpture. Still, Rotterdam is not without objects of this kind, capable of interesting the stranger; and in a commercial city, one of his earliest inquiries will be, of course, for the exchange. It consists of a plain, but neat building, surrounding a large court or open square within, where the merchants assemble every afternoon, from three to four o'clock, for the transaction of business. Here, also, the burgher guards assemble for exercise and parade, offering, in equipments and general appearance, a spectacle below that of our common militia, but of the same general character. It is nearly destitute of ornament, and no wise remarkable in its exterior. Its position is central and convenient, between two large basins, called the Kolk and the Blaak, and at a point which the course of the havens renders a great thoroughfare for the inhabitants. The Stadhuis, situated on the Hoogstraat, is an ordinary building, of little Dutch bricks, interesting only for its association with the civic history of Rotterdam. When I saw it, however, it was undergoing thorough and almost total repairs, which may, perhaps, ultimately improve its appearance. With these should be mentioned the edifice called Gemeenelandshuis Van Schieland, which was originally constructed for the use of the Hooghemraadschap of Schieland; that is, the college or board of proprietors, who, by the ancient law of the country, superintended the dikes and canals of the district called Schieland. This building is one of the most remarkable in Rotterdam, having a façade of white stone, ornamented with pilasters, with various ornaments of sculpture, and the apartments within being particularly handsome. In 1811, it was partially fitted up by Napoleon as a palace, and in 1814, was used for the same purpose by Alexander. Rotterdam is justly proud of being the birth place of the wise and learned Erasmus. The house where he was born has been rebuilt; but the locality is pointed out, bearing the quibbling inscription:

'Hæc est parva domus, magnus qua natus Erasmus.'

His statue, in bronze, appears on the arch or bridge, at the extremity of the Kolk, which forms a part of the Great Market, and is well known as one of the conspicuous ornaments of the city. The figure is larger than life, standing on a stone, or a pedestal, protected by a railing, and is placed near the end of the arch, next to the water, so as to face the large open square. He is represented in the long scholastic robe, with a small cap on his head, holding in his hand an open book, which he is engaged in reading. Each side of the pedestal bears an inscription, two of them being in Dutch, and two in Latin. On the front or westerly side, we read:


Magno scientiarum atove litteraturæ
Politioris vindici et restauratori
viro sæculi sui primario,
cui omnium præstantissimo
ac nominis immortalitatem scriptis
æviternis jure consecuto

SPQ Rotterodamus

ne quod tantis apud se suosque posteros
virtutibus præmium deesset

statuam suam ex ære publico
erigendam curaverunt.

And on the northerly side, or right hand, of the statue, is this inscription, in verse:

Barbaria talen se debellator ERASMUS,
Maxima laus Batavi nominis, ore tulit,
Reddidit en tatis ars obluctata sinistris

De tanto spolium nacta quod urna viro est
Ingenii cæleste jubar majusque caduco
Tempori, qui reddat, solus Erasmus erit.

In allusion, probably, to the circumstance that the Spaniards destroyed a statue of Erasmus in stone, which formerly stood on the same spot, in place of which the existing one was afterward erected. In honor, also, of the same great scholar, the Latin school of the city is called the Gymnasium of Erasmus.

If the senate and people of Rotterdam, as they are affectedly styled in the inscription, would take some little pains to keep the statue of Erasmus free from the little shops or booths by which it is almost surrounded, and from defilements of a worse kind, they would act more in the spirit of their worshipped predecessors. Market women, and other small dealers, plant themselves in close contact with the statue. The square, which it overlooks, is indeed the scene of the greatest activity of the dealers in fruit, at all times during the fruit season; and on the market days, is completely crowded with the booths and stalls of itinerant traders in haberdashery, jewelry, and fancy goods, which are closely arranged together, so as to form as it were little temporary streets, all over the market place. Most of the retailers are women, who sit behind their neat and tasteful counters, knitting or sewing with the greatest assiduity, in the intervals of traffic, and sometimes continuing their indefatigable industry in the very moment of loud and busy bargaining. All of them wore their little Dutch caps instead of bonnets; for while the dress of the merchants, and of the better sort of persons of both sexes, is substantially after the French style, which pervades all Europe, that of the market women and laboring classes, apparently remains but little changed from the genuine Dutch model of other times. But however ungainly may be their costume, this much it is safe to say in its favor, that nothing can exceed the unblemished neatness of it, in all its parts. Of the fruits which abound in this market, the most inviting are the large strawberries, offered for sale in conical baskets of various sizes, or small earthen jars of like form. The same perfect cleanliness and neatness, which characterize the appearance of things here, is observable in the other markets.



OH! for a scourging pen, a scorpion lash,

To flay the backs of fools, who worship Cash!
Oh! for a Swift, whose gall, like hornets, stung,
And all satiric bards that ever sung!

Arise once more! appear before the world!
Let folly tremble, as thy shafts are hurled;
'Tis all we ask of you, departed men,

Then seek the tomb, with double fame, again.

Pelf is our god; it is the mighty calf,
Set up for worship by the richer half;
If a man dies, his pockets stuffed with gold,
(Although his head be of a monkey's mould,
A species spoken of, by some old scribe,
As the last link between us and that tribe;)
Although, leech-like, the poor man's blood he drew,
And played the tyrant - when he could, the Jew;
Took the last rag the greedy law allowed,
And stood unmoved, when Pity cried aloud;
Wall-street's in tears; the brokers dress in black,
And e'en the papers weep among the pack;
And tell in print how rich, first in the van,'
And, awful! - died, just like another man!

But the warm heart that lights the poor man's door,
And puts a song where groans were heard before;
Whose hand and purse the suffering man consoles,
Evades the proud, and dwells with humble souls;
Whose daily deeds a fragrance leave behind,
The precious balm of love to all mankind;
Who shrinks disgusted from the money-god,
And hates the arm that sways a golden rod,
In silence falls! So, in the quiet wood,
The aged oak that grew in solitude,

Falls to the earth, from its own towering height,
And sleeps obscurely in its innate might.

The public mind is wrong: the frugal swain,

Who builds on labor for a future name,

Steers his frail barque in waters near the shore,
Till time and strength permits his 'venture more;'
Maintains his honor, howsoever strong
Temptation lures him with her syren song,
Is overlooked; while shallow, useless fops,

Tricked out from half a dozen dry-goods shops,

Who wiggle through the streets, and twirl their canes,
With heads of sap, that look like heads with brains;
Worth but their bark, like trees of cinnamon,

And e'en for that, do daily meet a dun;
These moving shops of lavender and tapes,
Who chatter nonsense like so many apes,

Can swindle twenty thousand at a dash,

And play the fool with their ill-gotton cash;
And half the people, so corrupt the times,

Wink their applause at such state-prison crimes!

In a republic like ours, where a man is said to be 'worth so much,' according to the amount of wealth which he possesses, the inculcatious of these extracts may prove salutary. The entire poem, which is too long for these pages, has been placed in our hands by the author, for promulgation in another form, should any metropolitan publisher be desirous of undertaking the venture of a thin poetical pamphlet. EDS. KNICKERBOCKER.


And thus it is; while solid Virtue's sneered,
Repulsive Vice is tacitly revered;

And honest men see how the current drives,
Turn knaves by force, to save their very lives!

There's Tom, the cobbler, honest and sincere,
Hard at his bench, for twenty pounds a-year;
His name his all; his work-shop's humble walls,
Reared against hunger, where he stands or falls;
By WEALTH regarded as a mere machine,
Wound up at birth, like clocks, by the Supreme.
He finds few friends, meets no familiar nod,
Among the kneelers at the golden god;
Although as pure as was apostle Paul,

'One thing' he lacks of course he lacketh all!
But lo! dame Fortune, in a lucky hour,

Rains down her wealth converts him by the shower;
Changes his nature, and destroys within,

His wicked spirit, poverty, and sin;

Instead of "Tom,' 't is Thomas Browne, Esquire,'
'Your humble servant,' meets him every where;
New friends, upbraided with their past neglect,
Declare they always had a great respect!"
That something noble, in his humble days,
Showed his great soul; that he was born to raise !'

A poor man, though the very king of wit,
Is but an ass, and cannot make a hit;
Rich blockheads say it is the common fate

Of brains and purses to agree in weight;
And splendid men are branded from their birth
With dollar-marks, that tell their mental worth!
A 'common liver,' though with Garrick's style,
Draws but a sickly, half-extinguished smile;
His finest strokes are rated so much chaff,
And only worth a fifty dollar laugh;

But bass-wood heads, with thousands, say four-score,
Make every corner in the city roar;

A million! and no Solomon more wise;
Wisdom and fortune are of equal size:
And though as stupid as a bag of straw,

His wink's enough such stamping and hurrah!

'Rothschild, the Rich,' is shouted in the crowd;
'Howard, the Good,' is scarcely breathed aloud!
An idol one, adored for gold alone,

The other half divine, yet scarcely known;
Fierce as a blood-hound on the smoking track,

See Rothschild move, though empires bend and crack ;'
Howard, as dew upon the withering rose,

His balm to blasted hearts the poor man knows;

And e'en in death, Rothschild, the Shylock name,
Will stand the highest on our scrolls of fame!

Behold the dark machinery of 'stocks!'
Prices alone are seen, like hands to clocks;
'T is all a splendid game of luck and chance,
And some must sigh, while others sing and dance.
The vilest gambler, in his keenest zeal,

Knows not more frenzy than these gamesters feel;
The lowest 'black-leg' in the list of shame,

Reflects, 'looks out,' and plays the self-same game;

There is a sufferer for each one that makes,

An equal triumph, when he 'sweeps the stakes;'

And yet the father, gaming day by day,

Who hazards thousands in the mighty play,

With admonition, warns his darling son

'Gainst shuffling cards, and such like 'vulgar run;'
'Forbid, Oh! God! a child that games and swears!'
He lifts his eyes, and piously declares.


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