Little girls of the labouring classes have not much time for games of any sort, for they are generally required at home to act as nursemaids and help in many other duties of the home life, but sometimes on summer afternoons they bring out their younger brothers and sisters, their knitting and a skipping-rope, which they take in turns, and so pass a few pleasant hours free from their share (not an inconsiderable one) of household cares, or in the evenings, when the younger members of the family are in bed, they will be quite happy with a bit of rope and their skipping songs, of which they seem to know many hundreds, and which might be sung with equal reason to any other game under the sun for all the words have to do with skipping.

After a long spell of rain the first fall of snow is hailed with delight, for it is a sign that frost is not far off. Jack Frost, after several preliminary appearances in December, usually pays his first long visit in January (sometimes, however, this is but a flying visit of two or three days), and, as a rule, a Dutchman may reckon on a good hard winter. As soon, therefore, as he sees the snow he thinks of the good old saying—'Sneeuw op slik in drie dagen ys dun of dik' ('Snow on mud in three days' time, thin or thick'). Ice is to be expected, and he gets out his skates with all speed. This is one of the few occasions when the people of the Netherlands are enthusiastic. Certainly skating is the national sport. The ditches are always the first to be tried, as the water in them is very shallow, and naturally freezes sooner than the very deep and exposed waters of river and canal, over which the wind, which is always blowing in Holland, has fair play; but when once these are frozen, then skating begins in real earnest. The tracks are all marked out by the Hollandsche Ysvereeniging, a society which was founded in 1889 in South Holland, and which the other provinces have now joined. Finger-posts to point the way are put up by this society at all cross-roads and ditches, with notices to mark the dangerous places, while the newspapers of the day contain reports as to which roads are the best to take, and which trips can be planned. For people living in South Holland the first trip is always to the Vink at Leyden, as it can be reached by narrow streams and ditches, and it is quite a sight to see the skaters sitting at little tables with plates of steaming hot soup before them. The Vink has been famous for its pea soup many years, and has been known as a restaurant from 1768. When the Galgenwater is frozen (the mouth of the Rhine which flows into the sea at Kat wyk), then the Vink has a still gayer appearance, for not only skaters, but pedestrians from Leyden and the villages round about that town, flock to this cafe to watch the skating and enjoy the amusing scenes which the presence of the ice affords them. Then the broad expanse of water, which in summer looks so deserted and gloomy as it flows silently and dreamily towards the sea, is dotted ail over with tents, flags, 'baanvegers,' and, if the ice is strong, even sleighs.

Among the peasant classes of South Holland it is the custom, as soon as the ice will bear, to skate to Gouda, men and women together, there to buy long Gouda pipes for the men and 'Goudsche sprits' for the women, and then to skate home with these brittle objects without breaking them. As they come along side by side, the farmer holding his pipe high above his head and the woman carefully holding her bag of cakes, every passer-by knocks against them and tries to upset them, but it seldom happens that they succeed in doing so, as a farmer stands very firmly on his skates, and, as a rule, he manages to keep his pipe intact after skating many miles. The longest trip for the people of South Holland, North Holland, and Utrecht, is through these three provinces, and the way over the ice-clad country is quite as picturesque as in summer-time, the little mills, quaint old drawbridges, and rustic farmhouses losing nothing of their charm in winter garb. All along the banks of the canals and rivers little tents are put up to keep out the wind; a roughly fashioned rickety table stands on the ice under the shelter of the matting, and here are sold all manner of things for the skaters to refresh themselves with—hot milk boiled with aniseed and served out of very sticky cups, stale biscuits, and sweet cake. The tent-holders call out their wares in the most poetical language they can muster—

'Leg ereis an! Leg ereis an! In het tentje by de man. Warme melk en zoete koek En een bevrozen vaatedoek.'

['Put up, put up At the tent with the man; Warm milk and sweet cake, And a frozen dish-cloth.']

and they tell you plainly that you may expect unwashed cups, for the cloth wherewith to wipe them is frozen, as well as the water to cleanse them.

Under the bridges the ice is not always safe, and even if it has become safe the men break it up so that they may earn a few cents by people passing over their roughly constructed gangways, and so boards are laid down by the 'baanvegers' for the skaters to pass over without risking their lives. Besides making these wooden bridges, the 'baanvegers' keep the tracks clean. Every hundred yards or so one is greeted by the monotonous cry of 'Denk ereis an de baanveger,' so that on long trips these sweepers are a great nuisance, for having to get out one's purse and give them cents greatly impedes progress. The Ice Society has, however, minimized the annoyance by appointing 'baanvegers' who work for it and are paid out of the common funds, so that the members of the society who wear their badge can pass a 'baanveger' with a clear conscience, while as the result of this combination you can skate over miles of good and well-swept ice without interference for the modest sum of tenpence, this being the cost of membership of the society for the whole season.



The Kralinger Plassen and the Maas near Rotterdam are greatly frequented spots for carnivals on the ice, but the grandest place for skating and ice sports of all kinds is the Zuyder Zee. In a severe winter this large expanse of ice connects instead of dividing Friesland with North Holland. Here we see the little ice-boats flying over the glossy surface as fast as a bird on the wing, and sleighs drawn by horses with waving plumes, while thousands of people flock from Amsterdam to the little Isle of Marken, and the variety of costume and colour swaying to and fro on the fettered billows of the restless inland sea makes it seem for the moment as though the Netherlander's dream had come true, and Zuyder Zee had really become once more dry land. In winter every one, from the smallest to the greatest, gives himself up to ice-sports, and even the poor are not forgotten. In some villages races are proclaimed, for which the prizes are turfs, potatoes, rice, coals, and other things so welcome to the poor in cold weather. A racer is appolnted for every poor family, and where there are no sons big enough to join in the races, a young man of the better classes generally offers his services, and, when successful, hands his prize over to the family he undertook to help.

Skating is second nature with the Dutch, and as soon as a child can walk it is put upon skates, even though they may often be much too big for it. Moreover, when the ice is good, winter-time affords recreation for the working as well as the leisured classes, for the canals and rivers become roads, and the hard-worked errand-boys, the butchers' and the bakers' boys manage to secure many hours of delightful enjoyment as they travel for orders on skates. The milkman also takes his milk-cart round on a sledge, and the farmers skate to market, saving both time and money, for then there is no railway fare to be paid, and a really good skater goes almost as fast as a train in Holland—especially the Frisian farmers, for Frisians are renowned for their swift skating, and the most famous racer of the commencement of the nineteenth century, Kornelis Ynzes Reen, skated four miles in five minutes.

But although the ice affords, and always has afforded, so much pleasure, there are periods in history when the frost caused great anxiety to the people of the Netherlands. The cities Naarden and Dordrecht are easily reached by water, and when that is frozen it would give any one free access to the town, and so in time of war frost was a much-dreaded thing. In the year 1672 this fear was realized, for when the ships of the Geuzen round about Naarden were stuck fast in the ice, and the Zuyder Zee was frozen, the enemy, armed with canoes and battle-axes, came over the ice from the Y and across the Zuyder Zee to Naarden. The best skaters among the Geuzen immediately volunteered to meet the Spaniards on the ice. They took only their swords with them, and while the ships' cannon had fair play from the bulwarks of the vessels over the heads of the Geuzen into the Spanish ranks, the Geuzen could approach them fearlessly and unmolested for a hand-to-hand fight. The Spaniards, who, besides being very heavily armed were very bad skaters, were soon defeated, for they kept tumbling over each other. The Geuzen pursued them to Amsterdam, and then returned to their ships, where they were greeted with great enthusiasm, and, as the thaw set in the next day, they were happily saved from a renewed attack.



Chapter XII

Music and the Theatre



Singing was one of the principal social pastimes of the Dutch nation during the eighteenth and far into the nineteenth century, and the North Hollander was especially fond of vocal music. When young girls went to spend the evening at the house of a friend they always carried with them their 'Liederboek '—a volume beautifully bound in tortoise-shell covers or mounted with gold or silver. The songs contained in these books were a strange mixture of the gay and grave. Jovial drinking-songs or 'Kermisliedjes' would find a place next to a 'Christian's Meditation on Death.' It was an olla podrida, in which everybody's tastes were considered. Recitations were also a feature of these little gatherings.

Nowadays these national songs are rarely heard. French, Italian, and German songs have taken their place, and it is but seldom one hears a real Dutch song at any social gathering. The 'people,' too, seem to have forgotten their natural gift of poetry, for the only songs now heard about the streets are badly translated French or English ditties. If England brings out a comic song of questionable art, six months later that song will have made its way to Holland, and will have taken a popular place in a Dutch street musician's repertoire; it will be whistled in many different keys by butcher and baker boys, and will be heard issuing painfully from the wonderful mechanism of the superfluous concertina. For almost every one in Holland possesses some musical instrument on which he plays, well or otherwise, when his daily work is over, or on Sunday evenings at home. And here a notable characteristic of the Dutch higher classes must be mentioned by way of contrast. Musical though they are, trained as they generally are both to play and sing well, they yet seldom exercise their gifts in a friendly, social, after-dinner way in their own homes. They become, in fact, so critical or so self-conscious that they prefer to pay to hear music rendered by recognized artists, and so a by no means inconsiderable element of geniality is lost to the social and domestic circle.

The decay of folk-song is the more regrettable, since Holland is rich in old ballads, some of which, handed down just as the people used to sing them centuries ago, are quaint, naive, and exceedingly pretty. The melodies have all been put to modern harmonies by able composers, and published for the use of the public.

'Het daghet in het oosten, Het lichtis overal,'

is a little jewel of poetic feeling, and the melody is very sweet. The story, like most of the songs of the past troublous centuries, tells of a battlefield where a young girl goes to seek her lover, but finds him dead. So, after burying him with her own white hands, with his sword and his banner by his side, she vows entrance into a convent. The story is a picture in miniature of the times, and as a piece of literature it ranks high.

Music of some sort finds a place in the homes of the poorest, and the concert, theatre, and opera are as much frequented by the humble of the land as by the wealthy and noble born. The servant class on their 'evening out' frequently go to the French opera, and there is not a boy on the street but is able to whistle some tune from the great modern operas, such as 'Faust,' 'Lohengrin,' and other standard works. And no wonder, for the choristers in the operas walk behind fruit-carts all day long, and often call out their wares in the musical tones learnt while following their more select profession as public singers. Some, of course, cannot read a note of music, and the melodies they have to sing have to be drummed, or rather trumpeted, into their ears. To this end they are placed in a row, and a man with a large trumpet stands before them and plays the tune over and over again until they know it off. In the summer-time whole parties of these Jewish youths—for Jewish they chiefly are—go about the woods on their Sabbath day singing the parts they take in the operas in the winter season, and crowds of people flock to hear them, for their voices are really well worth listening to.

Concerts are naturally not so largely patronized by the people as are operas and theatres. In the larger towns of Holland especially theatricals take a very prominent place in popular relaxation, and even the smaller towns and villages, should they lack theatres and be unable to get good theatrical companies to pay them periodical visits, arrange for dramatic performances by local talent. The popularity of the opera may be judged from the fact that at Amsterdam, The Hague, Rotterdam, Groningen, Arnhem and Utrecht, operas in Dutch and French are regularly given, and occasionally works in German and even Italian are produced. Money is scarce in Holland, the people generally have little to spare, so grand opera-houses, such as are thought necessary in most European cities of any pretension to culture, are impossible, and the singers can seldom count on liberal fees. But most of the best works are heard all the same—which, after all, is the principal thing—and the enjoyment and edification which result are not less genuine because of the simplicity of the properties and the humble character of the entire surroundings.

Yet outdoor music possesses a powerful attraction for the Dutch humbler classes, as for the same classes in most, if not all, countries; and when in the summer-time there is music in the Wood at The Hague on Sunday afternoons or Wednesday evenings, the walks round about the 'Tent' are alive with servants and their lovers, parading decorously arm-in-arm. Happy fathers, too, with their wives and children in Sunday best, perambulate the grounds or rest on the seats amongst the trees and listen to the 'Bosch-muziek.' People of the better class only are members of the 'Witte Societeit,' and sit inside the green paling to listen to the music and drink something meanwhile. For it is strange but true, that a Dutchman never seems thoroughly to enjoy himself unless he has liquid of some sort at hand, and never feels really comfortable without his cigar. Indeed, if smoking were abolished from places of public amusement, most Dutchmen would frequent them no more. In winter concerts are given every other Wednesday at The Hague—and what is true of The Hague applies to Amsterdam and all other towns of any size in the country—and the Public Hall is always packed; but besides these 'Diligentia' concerts there are others given by various Singing Societies, so that there is variety enough to choose from.

In the summer-time there is another attraction besides the Wood for the people of The Hague, for the season at Scheveningen opens on the 1st of June, and there is music at the Kurhaus twice a day—in the afternoon on the terrace of that building, and in the evening in the great hall inside. On Friday night is given what is called a 'Symphony Concert.' To this all the world flocks, for no one who at all respects himself, or esteems the opinion of society, would venture to miss it. Whether every one understands or enjoys the high class music given is another question, which it would be imprudent to press too urgently, but then it belongs to 'education' to go to concerts, and so all enjoy it in their own way. For the townspeople and the working-classes, who have no free time during the week, concerts are given at the large Voorhout on the Sunday evenings in summer, so that on that day even the busiest and poorest may enjoy recreation of a better kind than the public-house offers them, and this effort on their behalf is greatly appreciated by the people, who gladly make use of the opportunities of hearing good and popular music.

The national love of music is assiduously fostered by the Netherlands Musical Union, whose branches are to be found all over the country. Every town has musical and singing societies of some kind—private as well as public—and these make life quite endurable in winter, even in the smallest places. Nor do these 'Zangvereenigingen' derive their membership exclusively from the higher classes, for the humbler folk have organizations of their own. Even the servant girl and the day-labourer will often be found to belong to singing clubs of some kind. Music is also taught at most of the public schools, though it was long before the Government capitulated upon the point, and gave this subject a place side by side with drawing as part of the normal curriculum of the children of the people.

Happily for the musical and dramatic tastes of the nation, both the concert and the theatre are cheap amusements in Holland. As a rule, the dearest seats cost only from 3s. to 5s., while the cheapest, even in first-class houses at Amsterdam, Rotterdam, and The Hague, cost as little as sixpence. The only exceptions are when renowned artists tour the country, and even then the prices seldom exceed L1 for the best places. There is one musical event which makes a more serious call upon the purse, and it is the periodical operatic performance of the Wagner Society in Amsterdam. As a rule, two representations a year are given, and some of the best singers of Europe are invited to sing in one or other of Wagner's operas. The best Dutch orchestra plays, and chosen voices from the Amsterdam Conservatoire take part in the choruses. The scenery is worthy of Bayreuth itself, and such expense and care are bestowed upon these choice performances that, though the house is invariably filled on every occasion, the fees for admission never pay the costs, so that the musical enthusiasts of Amsterdam, Haarlem, and The Hague regularly make up the deficit each year, which sometimes amounts to as much as L1000.

While, however, the Dutch may with truth be classed as a distinctly musical nation, they would seem to have outlived their fame in the domain of musical art. For it should not be forgotten that Holland has in this respect a distinguished history behind it. So long ago as the times of Pope Adrian I. a Dutch school of music was established under the tuition of Italian masters, and it compared favourably with the contemporary schools of other nations. Even in the ninth century Holland produced a composer famous in the annals of music in the person of the monk Huchbald of St. Amand, in Flanders. He it was who changed the notation, and arranged the time by marking the worth of each note, and he is also remembered for his 'Organum,' the oldest form of music written in harmonies. It is often lamented that the compositions of to-day lack the originality which marked the earlier works. The country has none the less produced some noticeable composers during the past century. Of these J. Verhuist, W.F.G. Nicolal, Daniel de Lange, Richard Hol, and G. Mann are best known, though of no modern composer can it be said that he has any special 'cachet,' for the younger men, fed as they are on the works of other nations, grow into their style of thinking and writing, and follow almost slavishly in their footsteps. It is unfortunate that many rising composers cannot be persuaded to publish their works. The reason is that the cost of publishing in the Netherlands is almost fabulous, and if they do publish them at all it is done in Germany. But even then the circulation is so limited, owing to the smallness of the country, that it does not repay the cost; and so they prefer to plod on unknown, or to cultivate celebrity by giving private concerts of their own works.



Chapter XIII

Schools and School Life



If the Dutch peasant is not generally well educated it is not for want of opportunity, but rather because he has not taken what is offered him. For many years past a good elementary education has been within the reach of all. Even the small fees usually asked may be remitted in the case of those parents who cannot afford to pay anything, without entailing any civil disability; but attendance at school was only made compulsory by an Act which passed the Second Chamber in March, 1900, and which, at the time of writing, has just come into force. It is said that as many as sixty thousand Dutch children are getting no regular schooling. About one half of this number live on the canal-boats, and will probably give a good deal of trouble to those who will administer the new Act; for, as we have already seen, the families that these boats belong to have no other homes and are always on the move, so that it must ever be difficult to get hold of the children, especially as their parents do not see the necessity of sending them to school. It remains to be seen, therefore, whether any great improvement will resuit from the new Act, especially as private tuition may take the place of attendance at a school, and exemption is granted to those who have no fixed place of abode, and to parents who object to the tuition given in all the schools within two and a half miles of their homes. Under these conditions it seems that any one who wishes to evade the law will have little difficulty in doing so. The canal-boat people, apparently, are exempt so long as they do not remain for twenty-eight days consecutively in the same 'gemeente,' or commune.

The education provided by the State is strictly neutral in regard to religion and politics, but there are many denominational schools all over the country. Protestants call theirs 'Bible schools,' and Romanists call theirs 'Catholic schools,' and both these receive subsidies from the State if they satisfy the inspectors. Private schools also exist, but do not as a rule receive State aid. They are all, however, under State supervision and subject to the same conditions as to teachers' qualifications; and a very good rule is in force, namely, that no one may teach in Holland without having passed a Government examination.

Instruction in the elementary schools supported by Government is in two grades, though the dividing line is not always clearly drawn. In Amsterdam, for example, there are four different grades. In the lower schools the subjects taught are, besides reading, writing, and arithmetic, grammar and history, geography, natural history and botany, drawing, singing and free gymnastics, and the girls also learn needlework, but a large proportion of the pupils are satisfied with a more modest course, and know little more than the three R's. The children attending these schools are between six and twelve years of age, though in some rural districts few of them are less than eight years old, but according to the new law they must begin to attend when they are seven and go on until they are twelve or thirteen according to the standard attained. In the upper grade schools the same subjects are taught in a more advanced form, with the addition of universal history, French, German, and English. These languages, being optional, are taught more or less after regular school hours.

All the teachers in these schools must hold teachers' or head-teachers' certificates, to gain which they have to pass an examination in all the subjects which they are to teach except languages, for each of which a separate certificate is required. Every commune must have a school, though hitherto no one has been obliged to attend it, and lately, owing to the new Education Act, the builders have been busy in many places enlarging the schools to meet the new requirements. If there are more than forty children two masters are now necessary, and for more than ninety there must be at least three. Ten weeks' holidays are allowed in the year, and these are to be given when the children are most wanted to help at home, in addition to which leave of absence may be granted in certain cases by the district inspectors. Holidays, therefore, vary according to the conditions of a town or village.

All schools are more or less under State control. They are divided into three classes according to the type of education which they provide. Lower or elementary education has already been dealt with. Between this and the higher education of the 'Gymnasia' and Universities comes what is called 'middelbaar onderwijs'—that is, secondary, or rather intermediate, education. This is represented by technical or industrial schools, 'Burgher night schools,' and 'Higher burgher schools.' The first named train pupils for various trades and crafts, more especially for those connected with the principal local industries. The course is three years or thereabouts, following on that of the elementary schools, and there is generally an entrance examination, but the conditions vary in different communes. Sometimes the instruction is free, sometimes fees are charged amounting to a few shillings a year, the cost being borne by the communes, and in a few towns there are similar schools for girls who have passed through the elementary schools. The technical classes for girls cover such subjects as fancy-work, drawing and painting of a utilitarian character, and sometimes book keeping and dress-making. Most of them are free, but for some special subjects a small payment is required. Drawing seems to be a favourite subject, and in most of these technical schools there are classes for mechanical drawing as well as for some kind of artistic work connected with industry. In addition there are numerous art schools, some of them being devoted to the encouragement of fine art, while in others the object kept in view is the application of art to industry.

The 'Burgher night schools,' like the technical schools, are supported by the communes in which they are situated. There are about forty of them in all, and most of them are very well attended, in some cases the regular students, who are all working men and women, number several hundreds. The instruction is similar to that given in the technical schools, that is to say, it is chiefly practical, and local industries receive special attention. Formerly there were day schools also for working men, on the same lines as these, but they were not a success, and the technical schools have taken their place.

Of a higher class, but still included in the term 'middelbaar onderwijs,' is the 'modern' education of the 'higher burgher' schools. The majority of these schools were founded by the communes, the rest by the State, but internally they are ail alike, and all are inspected by commissioners appointed by the Government for the purpose. Pupils enter at twelve years of age, and must pass an entrance examination, which, like nearly every examination in Holland, is a Government affair. Having passed this, they attend school for five years, as a rule, but at some of these institutions the course lasts only three years. In some degree the 'higher burgher' schools correspond to the modern side of an English school: at least the subjects are much the same, embracing mathematlcs, natural science, modern languages and commercial subjects, and no Latin or Greek is taught. The education is wholly modern and practical, with the object of preparing pupils for commercial life. There are 'higher burgher' schools for girls as well as for boys, at which nearly the same education is provided.

A great advantage of these schools is that they are very cheap; at the most expensive the yearly fees amount to a little more than thirty pounds, but at the majority they only come to four or five. To teach in such schools as these one must have a diploma or a University degree. A separate diploma is necessary for each subject, and the examination is not easy. Even a foreigner who wishes to teach his own language must pass the same examination as a Dutchman. No difference is made between the masters at the boys' schools and the ladies who teach the girls; exactly the same diplomas are required in both cases.

The 'Gymnasia,' to which allusion has been made, are classical schools, which prepare boys for the Universities. The age of entry is the same as at the modern schools, twelve; but the course is longer, as a rule covering six years instead of five, and at the end of this course comes a Government examination, the passing of which is a necessary preliminary to a University degree. The 'Gymnasia' were founded by an Act of Parliament, but are supported by the communes, which in this case are the larger towns, but they are assisted, as a rule, by a Government grant. The fees are very small, only about, L8 a year.

There are a few private and endowed schools, which may send up candidates for the same examinations as are taken by the pupils of the State schools, and it is among these that we find the only boarding schools in the country. Some of these have certain privileges; for instance, the headmaster may engage assistants who do not hold diplomas, which makes it easier for him to get native teachers for modern languages; but in the State schools proper, the selection of undermasters does not rest with the head, or director, as he is called, at all. Foreign teachers are not very plentiful, as the diplomas are not easy to get, and a native, who has to relearn much of his own language from a Dutch point of view, has little or no advantage over a Dutchman in the examinations.

No sketch of Dutch schools would be complete without some reference to the way in which modern languages are studied, for this is the most striking feature in the national education, and is of great importance when we are considering the national life and character of Holland. Former generations of Dutchmen won a place among the 'learned nations' by their knowledge of the classical languages; and their descendants seem to have inherited the gift of tongues, but make a more practical use of it. French, German, English, and Dutch, which go by the name of 'de vier Talen,' or 'the four languages,' have taken the place of Greek and Latin. In the 'Gymnasia' every pupil learns to speak them as a matter of course, and in the 'higher burgher' schools the same languages receive special attention, with a view to commercial correspondence. Even in the upper elementary schools, boys and girls are taught some or all of them. A boy entering one of the higher schools at the age of twelve or thirteen generally has some knowledge of, at least, one foreign language, acquired either at an elementary school, or at home, and he is never shy of displaying that knowledge. If his parents are well off, he has probably learned to speak French or English in the nursery, and it sometimes happens that he even speaks Dutch with a French or an English accent, having been brought up on the foreign language and acquired his native longue later. German as a rule is not begun so soon, the idea being that its resemblance to Dutch makes it easier, which is no doubt true to a certain extent. The result, however, is very often that the easiest language of the three is the one least correctly spoken.

As in all Continental countries, there is nothing in Holland corresponding to the English public school System. The 'Gymnasia' prepare boys for the Universities, and the 'higher burgher' schools train them for commercial life and some professions, somewhat in the same way as English modern schools, but there the resemblance ends. As a rule, a Dutch boy's school life is limited to the hours he spends at lessons; the rest of the day belongs rather to home life. There are a few boarding schools in Holland, but the life in such schools in the two countries is different in almost every respect. The size of the schools may have something to do with this, though by itself it is not enough to account for the difference. A Dutch head-master once drew my attention to the lack of tradition in his own and other schools in the country, and expressed a hope that time might work a change. At present there is little sign of such a change. Tradition has hardly had time to grow up yet, for few of the existing schools are much more than twenty years old, and its growth is retarded by the small numbers, which make any widespread freemasonry among old boys impossible. But there is another and more serious obstacle. The uniform control which the Government exercises over ail schools alike, State, endowed, or private, whatever advantages it may have, certainly hinders the development of that individuality which makes 'the old school,' to many an English boy, something more than a place where he had lessons to do and was prepared for examinations.

A rough sketch of the inside of a Dutch school will doubtless be of interest. One of the few endowed schools in Holland may be taken as fairly typical of its class, but not of the State schools, though it competes with these and combines the classical and modern courses. It lies in the country, near a small village, and in this respect also differs from the 'Gymnasia' and 'higher burgher' schools, which are ail situated in the larger towns.

One of the first things which attracts notice is the large number of masters. It seems at first that there are hardly enough boys to go round. This is due to the law, which requires that every master must be qualified to teach his particular subject either by a University degree or by an equivalent diploma. Few hold more than two diplomas, and consequently much of the teaching is done by men who visit this and other schools two or three times a week. In this particular foundation the three resident masters are foreigners, but such an arrangement is exceptional. Classes seldom include more than half a dozen boys, and very often pupils are taken singly, and therefore each boy receives a good deal of individual attention. Such a school is divided into six forms or classes, but not for teaching purposes; the day's work is differently arranged for each boy, and these classes merely record the results of the last examination. Some of the lessons last for an hour, but the rest are only three quarters of an hour long; they make up in number, however, what they lack in length, amounting to about nine and a half hours a day. Owing to the time being so much broken up, it may be doubted whether the amount of work done is any greater here than in an average English school where the aggregate of working hours is considerably less. Amongst our Dutch friends, however, and there may be others who share their opinion, the general belief is that English schoolboys learn very little except athletics.

With regard to sports and pastimes, these are the only schools in which any interest is taken or encouragement given therein. Football is played here on most half-holidays during the winter, and sometimes on Sunday, and occasionally its place is taken by hockey. It must be admitted that the standard of play is not very high in either game, though many of the boys work hard and, with better opportunities, might develop into high-class players; but as there are only about thirty boys in the school, competition for places in the teams is not very keen. Rowing has lately been introduced, not to the advantage of the football eleven. It may be remarked, by the way, that only Association football is played in Holland; the Rugby game is strictly barred by head-masters and parents as too dangerous. Attempts have been made to introduce cricket, but the game meets with little encouragement. There is a lawn-tennis court, however, which is constantly in use during the summer term. Bicycling is very popular, not only here, but in Holland generally; in fact, most of the boys seem to prefer this form of exercise to any of the games which have been mentioned.

Whether at work or play, all the boys are under the constant supervision of one or other of the resident masters, and the head is not far off. A few of the seniors are allowed to go outside the grounds when they please, but the rest may only go out under the charge of a master. In spite of this apparently strict supervision, however, there is not much real discipline. Corporal punishment is not allowed; both public opinion and the law of the land are against it. Other punishments, such as detention and impositions, are ineffectual, and are generally regarded by the culprit as unjustly interfering with his liberty. Consequently the masters have not much hold over the boys, who might, if they chose, perpetrate endless mischief without fear of painful consequences so long as they did nothing to warrant expulsion; but the young Hollander does not appear to have much enterprise in that direction. Perhaps he is sometimes kept out of mischief by his devotion to the fragrant weed, for he generally learns to smoke at a tender age, with his parents' consent, and no exception is taken to his cigar except during lessons; but it is certainly startling to see the boys smoking while playing their games, as well as on all other possible occasions.

A large proportion of the boys at the 'Gymnasia,' perhaps the majority of them, pass on to the Universities, some to qualify for the learned professions, others because it is the fashion in Holland as in other countries for young men who have no intention of following any profession to spend a few years at a University in search of pleasure and experience; but the experience in this case is peculiar and unique.



Chapter XIV

The Universities



As to the Universities themselves, it is not necessary to consider them separately, as all four of them, Leyden, Groningen, Utrecht and Amsterdam, are alike in constitution. They are not residential, there are no beautiful buildings, there are no rival colleges, no tutors or proctors, and no 'gate;' nor are they independent corporations like Oxford and Cambridge and Durham, for, though they retain some outward forms which recall a former independence, they are now maintained and managed entirely by the State, which pays the professors and provides the necessary buildings. The subjects to be taught and the examinations to be held in the various faculties are laid down by statute. Consequently the Universities show the same want of individuality as the schools, and, to an outsider at least, there seems to be nothing of the 'Alma Mater' about them under the present regime, and no real ground for preferring any one of them to the others. At the same time, fathers usually send their sons to the Universities at which they themselves have studied, except when they and the professors happen to hold very different political opinions, but such a custom may be due as much to the national love of order and regularity as to any real attachment to a particular University. As to the political opinions of professors, their influence on the students cannot be very great in the majority of cases, being limited to the effect produced by lectures, for there is no social intercourse between teacher and taught. The professors, though very learned men, do not enjoy any great social standing, and the title does not carry with it anything like the same rank as in some other countries.

The system on which these Universities work may be a sound and logical one so far as it goes, and more up-to-date than the English residential system, which its enemies deride as mediaeval and monastic; but it is a cast iron system, designed with the object of preparing men for examinations, and one which does nothing to discover promising scholars or to encourage original work and research among those who have taken their degrees, or, according to the Dutch phrase, have gained their 'promotion'. There are no scholarships, nor anything that might serve the same purpose, though some such institution could hardly find a more favourable soil than that of Holland. Instruction of a very learned and thorough character is offered to those who will and can receive it, and that is all. The classes are open to all who pay the necessary fees, which are trifling, though the degree of Doctor may only be granted to those who have passed the 'Gymnasium' final or an equivalent examination, and, provided he makes these payments, a student is free to do as he pleases, so far as his University is concerned.

Discipline there is none, except in very rare cases, when the law provides for the expulsion of offenders; only theological candidates are indirectly restrained from undue levity by having to get a certificate of good conduct at the end of their course. There is no chapel to keep, for the student's religion and morals are entirely his own concern; there are no 'collections,' for if a man does not choose to read he injures no one but himself by his idleness; and there is no Vice-Chancellor's Court, for in theory students are on the same footing as other people before the law, though in practice the police seldom interfere with them more than they can help. It is not surprising that young men not long from school should sometimes abuse such exceptional freedom, but their ideas of enjoyment are rather strange in foreign eyes. One of their favourite amusements seems to be driving about the town and neighbourhood in open carriages. On special occasions all the members of a club turn out, wearing little round caps of their club colours, and accompanied as likely as not by a band, and drive off in a procession to some neighbouring town, where they dine; in the night or next morning they return, all uproariously drunk, singing and shouting, waving flags and flinging empty wine-bottles about the road. I do not wish to imply that all Dutch students behave in this way, but such exhibitions are unfortunately not uncommon, and show to what lengths 'freedom' is permitted to go.

There is a limit, however, even to the liberty of students, as appears from the following anecdote. One of these young men gave a wine-party in his lodgings, and some one proposed, by way of a lark, to wake up a young woman who lived in the house opposite, and fetch her out of bed, so a rocket was produced and fired through the open window. The bombardment had the desired effect, but it also set the house on fire, and the joker's father was called on to make good the damage. Then the police took the matter up, and the culprit got several weeks' imprisonment for arson, after which he returned to the University and resumed his interrupted studies. There was no question of rustication, as the court simply inflicted the penalty laid down in the Code, and there was no other authority that had power to interfere in the matter at all.

As may well be imagined, students are not generally popular with the townsfolk, who resent the unequal treatment of the two classes, not because they wish for the same measure of license, but because anything like rowdiness contrasts strongly with their own habits; and extravagance, not an uncommon failing among students in Holland or elsewhere, is absolutely repugnant to the average Dutch citizen. This feeling of resentment seems to be growing, and has already had some slight effect upon the civil authorities; if the students find some day that they have lost their privileged position, they will have only themselves to thank, and certainly the change will do them no harm.

But though a certain number go to the Universities merely to amuse themselves or to be in the fashion, most of them work well, even if they do not attend lectures regularly all through their course. In some faculties private coaching offers a quicker and easier way to 'promotion' than the more orthodox one through the class-rooms. No doubt there are some who are in no hurry to leave the attractions of student life, but not many cling to them so persistently as a certain Dutch student, to whom a relative bequeathed a liberal allowance, to be paid him as long as he was studying for his degree. He became known as 'the eternal student,' to the great wrath of the heirs who waited for the reversion of his legacy. For most men the ordinary course is long enough, for it averages perhaps six or seven years, though there is no fixed time, and candidates may take the examinations as soon as they please. The nominal course—that is, the time over which the lectures extend—varies in the different faculties, from four years in law to seven or eight in medicine, but very few men manage, or attempt, to take a degree in law in four years. The other faculties are theology, science, including mathematics, and literature and philosophy.

The degree of Doctor is given in these five faculties, and to obtain it two examinations must be passed, the candidate's and the doctoral. After passing the latter a student bears the title doctorandus until he has written a book or thesis and defended it viva voce before the examiners. He is then 'promoted' to the degree, a ceremony which generally entails, indirectly, a certain amount of expense. It appears to be the correct thing for the newly-made doctor to drive round in state, adorned with the colours of his club and attended by friends gorgeously disguised as lacqueys, and leave copies of his book at the houses of the professors and his club fellows, after which he, of course, celebrates the occasion in the invariable Dutch fashion, with a dinner. Many students, however, are not qualified to try for a degree, not having been through the 'Gymnasia,' and others do not wish to do so. Sometimes the candidate's examination qualifies one to practise a profession, and is open to all, in other cases, in the faculty of medicine for example, it gives no qualification, and is only open to candidates for the degree, but then there is another, a 'professional' examination, for those who do not aim at the ornamental title.

The cost of living at the Universities naturally depends very much on the student's tastes and habits. He pays to the University only 200 florins (L16 13s 4d) a year for four years, after which he may attend lectures free of charge, so the minimum annual expenditure is small; but it should be borne in mind that the course is about twice as long as in England. A good many students live with their families, which is cheaper than living in lodgings; and as nearly all classes are represented, there is a considerable difference in their standards of life. Some are certainly extravagant, as in all Universities, which tends to raise prices, but, on the other hand, many of them are men whose parents can ill afford the expense, but are tempted by the value which attaches to a University career in Holland, and these bring the average down. Between these two extremes there are plenty who do very well on L150 or so a year, and L200 is probably considered a sufficiently liberal allowance by parents who could easily afford a larger sum. Even the students' corps need not lead to any great expense, as it consists of a number of minor clubs, and nearly every one joins it, so that the pace is not always the same; students who wish to keep their expenses down naturally join with friends who are similarly situated, leaving the more extravagant clubs to the young bloods who have plenty of money to spare.

The corps is the only tie which holds the students together where there are no colleges, and athletics play but a very small part. Each University has its corps, to which all the students belong except a few who take no part in the typical student life, and are known as the 'boeven,' or 'knaves.' A Rector and Senate are elected annually from among the members of four or five years' standing to manage the affairs of the corps. In order to become a member, a freshman, or 'green,' as he is called in Holland, has to go through a rather trying initiation, which lasts for three or four weeks. Having given in his name to the Senate, he must call on the members of the corps and ask them to sign their names in a book, which is inspected by the Senate from time to time, and at each visit he comes in for a good deal of 'ragging,' for, as he may not go away until he has obtained his host's signature, he is completely at the mercy of his tormentors. If he does not obey their orders implicitly and give any information they may require about his private affairs, he is likely to have a bad time, but as long as he is duly submissive he is generally let off with a little harmless fooling. One 'green,' a shy and retiring youth, who did not at all relish the impertinent inquiries which were made into his morals and family history, was made to stand at the window and give a full and particular account of himself to the passers-by, with interesting details supplied by the company. Sometimes, however, the joking is more brutal and less amusing. For instance, as a punishment for shirking the bottle, the victim was compelled to kneel on the floor with a funnel in his mouth, while his tormentors poured libations down his throat.

When the 'green time' is over the new members of the corps are installed by the Rector, and drive round the town in procession, finishing up, of course, with a club dinner. The corps has its head-quarters in the Students' Club, which corresponds more or less to the 'Union' at an English University, though differing from the latter in two important respects: first, there are no debates, and secondly, the members are exclusively students, for, as I have already noticed, there is no social intercourse between the professors and their pupils. The reading-rooms at the club are a favourite lounge of a great many of the students, but it must be admitted that the literature supplied there is not always of a very wholesome kind, seeing that it includes 'realism' of the most daring description, with illustrations to match, and obscene Parisian comic papers. Every member of the corps also belongs to one of the minor clubs of which it is made up, and which are apparently nothing more than messes, very often with only a dozen members, or less.

A few sport clubs exist, also under the control of the corps, but they do not play a very prominent part, for the taste for athletic exercises is confined to a small minority. Considering the small number of players, the proficiency attained in the exotic games of football and hockey is surprisingly high. The rowing is even better, and attracts a larger number, being perhaps more suited to the physical characteristics of the race than those games for which agility is more necessary than weight and strength. Boat-races are held annually between the several Universities, in which the form of the crews is generally very good. If I am not mistaken, some of the Dutch crews that have rowed at Henley represented University clubs. The typical student, however, though well enough endowed with bone and muscle, has no ambition whatever to become an athlete, or to submit to the fatigue and self-denial of training. Probably the way he lives and his aversion to athletics, more than the length of his course of study, account for his elderly appearance, for he is not only obviously older than the average undergraduate, but begins to look positively middle-aged both in face and figure almost before he has done growing.

Before leaving the subject of the students' corps, mention must be made of the great carnival which each corps holds every five years to commemorate the foundation of its University. The 'Lustrum-Maskerade,' which is the chief item in the week of festivities, is a historical pageant representing some event in the mediaeval history of Holland. The chief actors are chosen from among the wealthiest of the students, and spare no trouble or expense in preparing their get-up, while the minor parts are allotted to the various clubs within the corps, each club representing a company of retainers or men-at-arms in the service of one of the mock princes or knights. For six days the players retain their gorgeous costumes and act their parts, even when excursions are made in the neighbourhood in company with the friends and relatives who come to join in the commemoration, and the mixture of mediaeval and modern costumes in the streets has a somewhat ludicrous effect. On the first day the visitors are formally welcomed by the officers of the corps. Former students of all ages meet their old comrades, and the men of each year, after dining together, march together to the garden or park where the reception is held. Anything less like the usual calm and serious demeanour of these seniors than the way in which they dance and sing through the town is not to be imagined, for the oldest and most sedate of them are as wildly and ludicrously enthusiastic as the youngest student; and their arrival at the reception, with bands of music, skipping about and roaring student songs like their sons and grandsons, is, to say the least, comical. But the occasion only comes once in five years, and they naturally make the most of it.

The next day the Masquerade takes place, beginning with a procession to the ground, and is repeated two or three times before huge crowds of spectators, for the townsmen are as excited as the students and the relatives, at least on the first two days. Great pains are always taken to ensure historical correctness in every detail, and the leading parts are often admirably played, and it must be the unromantic dress of the lookers-on that spoils the effect and makes one think of a circus. If only the crowd could be brought into harmony with the masqueraders in the matter of clothes the illusion might be complete; as it is, one can hardly imagine for a moment that the knights who charge so bravely down the lists mean to do one another any serious damage. A tournament is very often the subject of the pageant, or an important part of it, or sometimes a challenge and single combat are introduced as a sort of entr'acte. For the last four days of the feast there is no fixed order of procedure; balls, concerts, garden-parties, and so on are arranged as may be most convenient, while the intervals are spent in visits, dinners, and drives. Not until the end of the week does any student lay aside his gay costume and resume the more prosaic garments of his own times. All through the week the influence of the corps, which is the life of the University from the student's point of view, is manifest in the collective character of all the festivities, everything being done either by the corps itself or under its direction. From a comparison of this celebration with 'Commem' week we can, perhaps, gather a very fair idea of the typical points of difference between the students of Holland and our own country.



Chapter XV

Art and Letters



The art of a country is ever in unity with the character of the people. It reflects their ideas and sentiments; their history is marked in its progress or decline; and it shows forth the influences that have been at work in the minds and very life of the nation from which it springs. If this is true of all countries, it is nowhere so visibly true as in Holland. There art underwent the most decided changes during the various periods of war and armed peace through which the little country passed. It may truly be said that 'the first smile of the young Republic was art, for it was only after the revolt of the Dutch against the Spanish ... that painting reached a high grade of perfection.' One is accustomed to take it for granted too readily that the glory of Dutch art lies in the past; that the works and fame of a Van Eyck, a Rubens, Rembrandt, Van Dyck, and Ruysdael sum up Holland's contribution to the art of the world, and that this chapter of its history, like the chapters which deal with its maritime supremacy, its industrial greatness, and its struggles for liberty, is closed for ever. Nothing could be farther from the fact. Dutch art was never more virile, more original, more self-conscious than to-day, when it is represented by a band of men whose genius and enthusiasm recall the great names of the past. Professer Richard Muther has well said, in his 'History of Modern Painting,' that, 'so far from stagnating, Dutch art is now as fresh and varied as in the old days of its glory.'

The Dutch painters of the present day include, indeed, quite a multitude of men of the very first rank, and some of them, like the three brothers Maris, are unexcelled. Jacob Maris, who died so recently as 1890, was known for his splendid landscapes, and still more for his town pictures and beach scenes. Willem Maris has a partiality for meadows in which cattle are browsing in tranquil content. Thys Maris has a very different style. He paints grey and misty figures and landscapes all hazy and scarcely visible. His love of the obscure and the suggestive led to the common refusal of his portraits by patrons, who complained that they lacked distinctness. No painter, however, commands such large prices as he, and from L2000 to L3000 is no rare figure for his canvases.

H. W. Mesdag is Holland's most celebrated sea painter. He pictures the ever rolling ocean with marvellous power, and carries the song of the waves and the cry of the wild sea birds into his great paintings, which speak to one of the life and toil of the fishermen, the never weary waters, and the ever varying aspects of sea and sky. In this domain he is unrivalled, and he has certainly done some magnificent work. Mesdag has an exhibition of his own works every Sunday morning in his studio at The Hague, and any one who wishes is allowed to visit it, while for the general public's benefit there is the Mesdag Panorama in the same town.

Mauve, who died in 1887, was best known for his pastoral scenes. His pictures of sheep on the moors and fens recall pleasant memories of summer days and sunny hours.

Josef Israels went largely to the life of fishermen for his motives, though one of his best-known works is that noble one, 'David before Saul.'

Bosboom one naturally associates with church interiors, wonderfully well done; Blommers, Artz, and Bles likewise paint interiors, the first two choosing their subjects by preference from the houses of the working classes, while Bles confines himself to the dwellings of the wealthy.

Bisschop is unquestionably the best of the Dutch portrait-painters, though his still life is considered even more artistic than his portraits. The foremost of the lady portrait and figure painters is Therese Schwartze, who, like Josselin de Jong, often takes Queen Wilhelmina as a grateful subject for her brush.

The foregoing may be regarded as painters of the old school, though every one has so much originality as to be virtually the initiator of a distinct direction. The newer schools are represented by men like J. Toorop, Voerman, Verster, Camerlingh Onnes, Bauer, and Hoytema.

Toorop is the well-known symbolist. His style is Oriental rather than Dutch, and his topics for the most part are mystical in character. He is famous also for his decorative art. This many-sided man is probably the greatest artist soul in Holland. He is expert in almost every domain of art. Etching, pastel and water-colour drawing, oil-painting, wood-cutting, lithography, working in silver, copper, and brass, and modelling in clay, belong equally to his accomplishments, though as a painter he is, of course, best known.

Voerman, once known for his minutely painted flowers, is now a pronounced landscape painter. His cloud studies are marvellous, though perhaps the landscape colours are somewhat hard and overdone in the effort to produce the desired effects. He paints, as a rule, the rolling cumulus, and is one of the first of the younger artists.

Verster is known best for his impressionist way of painting flowers in colour patches, though he has now taken to the minute and mystical method of representing them.

Onnes, like Toorop, is a decided mystic, and there is a vein of mysticism in all his paintings. He is famous for his light effects in glass and pottery, and has especially a wonderful knack of painting choirs in churches ail in a dreamy light.

Bauer is better known, perhaps, by his drawings and etchings than by his paintings. He paints with striking beauty old churches, temples, and mosques, generally the exteriors, and the effect of his minute work is wonderful. Bauer is also one of the finest of Dutch decorative artists.

Hoytema is known for his illustrations. Animal life is his forte, especially owls and monkeys.

Among other younger painters who, though not yet of European reputation, may still be classed with many of the older generation, are Jan Veth and H. Haverman, both of whom excel in portraits. The lady artists who have best held their own with the stronger sex include, in addition to those named, Mme Bilders van Bosse, who paints woods and leafy groves with striking power; and the late Mme. Vogels-Roozeboom, who found her inspiration in the flora of Nature. In her day (she died in 1894) she was the first of floral painters, and whenever she raised her brush the finest of flowers rose up as at the touch of a magic wand. Second to her, though not so well known by far, came Mlle W. van der Sande Bakhuizen.

The Dutch are not only a nation of painters, but a nation of picture-lovers, though in Holland, as in other countries, one not seldom sees upon walls from which better would be expected tawdry art, about which all that can be said is that it was bought cheap. The country possesses a number of good public galleries, and much is done in this way and by the frequent exhibition of paintings to foster the love of the artistic. The principal exhibitions are those of the Pulchri Studio and the Kunst-kring (Art Circle) at The Hague, and the 'Arti et Amicitia' at Rotterdam. To become a working member of the Pulchri Studio is counted a great honour, for the artists who are on the committee are very particular as to whom they admit into their circle, and they ruthlessly blackball any one who is at all 'amateurish' or who does not come up to their high standard. For this reason it is that so many of the younger artists give exhibitions of their own works as the only way of getting them at all known.

Sculpture is not much practised in Holland. It would seem to be an art belonging almost entirely to Southern climes, although there was a time when the Dutch modelled busts and heads from snow. The monument of Piet Hein was originally made of snow, and so much did it take the fancy of the people of Delftshaven, the place of his birth, that they had a stone monument erected for him on the place where the one of snow had stood. It is only recently, however, that sculpture has been re-introduced into Holland as a fine art, and those artists who have taken it up need hardly fear competition with their brethren of other Continental countries, for their names are already on every tongue. The first amongst those who have shown real power is Pier Pander, the cripple son of a Frisian mat-plaiter, who came over from Rome (where he had gone to complete his studies) at the special invitation of the Queen to model a bust of the Prince Consort, Duke Hendrik of Mecklenburg-Schwerin. Other notable sculptors are Van Mattos, Ode, Bart de Hove, and Van Wyck.

There is also another art which is in considerable vogue, and in which much good work has been done—that of wood-carving. In this the painter and illustrator Hoytema has shown considerable skill. Needless to say, Holland is also as famous now as ever for its pottery. Delft ware was ever the fame of the Dutch nation, though the Rosenbach and Gouda pottery is now gaining approval. It may be doubted, however, whether the love for the latter is altogether without affectation. One is inclined to believe that many of its admirers are enthusiastic to order. They admire because the leading authorities assure them it is their duty so to do.

The Netherlands, though very limited in area and small in population, can also boast of having contributed much that is excellent to the literature of the world, and in its roll of famous literary men are to be found names which would redeem any country from the charge of intellectual barrenness. Spinoza, Erasmus, and Hugo de Groot (Grotius), to name no others, form a trio whose influence upon the thought of the world, and upon the movements which make for human progress, has been beyond estimation, and which still belongs to-day to the imperishable inheritance of the race.

As illustrating the world-wide fame of Hugo de Groot it is interesting to note that on the occasion of the Peace Conference held at The Hague in 1899 the American representatives invited all their fellow-delegates to Delft, and there, in the church of his burial, papers were read in which the claim of the great thinker to perpetual honour was brought to the memories of the assembled spokesmen of the civilized world.

It is with the modern literature and literary movements of Holland, however, that these pages must concern themselves, and for practical purposes we may confine ourselves principally to the latter part of the completed century. For the early part of the nineteenth century was by no means prolific in literary achievement, and does not boast of many great names, if one disregards the writers whose lives linked that century with its predecessor, like Betjen Wolff and Agatha Deken. When, in 1814-15, Holland again became a separate kingdom, that important event failed to mark a new era in Dutch literature. Strange to say, though the political changes of the time powerfully influenced the sister arts of music and painting, which show strong traces of the transition of that crisis in the nation's history, upon literature they had no effect whatever. Before 1840 no very brilliant writers came to the front, though the period was not without notable names, such as Willem Bilderdijk, Hendrik C. Tollens, and Isaac da Costa, all of whom possessed a considerable vogue. Bilderdijk's chief claim to fame is the fact that he wrote over 300,000 lines of verse, and regarded himself as the superior of Shakespeare; Tollens had a name for rare patriotism, and wrote many fine historical poems and ballads; while Da Costa, who was a converted Jew, had to the last, in spite of a considerable popularity as a poet, to contend with the oftentimes fatal shafts of ridicule.

A new period opened, however, about 1840, in the Gids movement promoted by E.J. Potgieter and R.C. Bakhuizen van den Brink, who were editors of the Gids and the severest of literary critics. The Gids was the Dutch equivalent of the Edinburgh Review under Jeffrey, and its criticisms were so much dreaded by the nervous Dutch author of the day that the magazine received the name of 'The Blue Executioner,' blue being the colour of its cover. If, however, Potgieter and Bakhuizen were unsparing in the use of the tomahawk, the service which they rendered to Dutch letters by their drastic treatment of crude and immature work was healthy and lasting in influence, for it undoubtedly raised the tone and standard of literary work, both in that day and for a long time to come, and so helped to establish modern Dutch literature on a firm basis. Perhaps the foremost figure in the literary revival which followed was Conrad Busken Huet, unquestionably the greatest Dutch critic of the last century, whose book 'Literary Criticisms and Fancies,' which contains a discriminating review of all writers from Bilderdijk forward, is essential to a thorough study of Dutch literature during the nineteenth century. Huet also emancipated literature from the orthodoxy in thought which had characterized the earlier Dutch writers, especially by his novel 'Lidewyde.'

No novelist has more truly reflected the old fashioned ideas and simple home life of Holland than Nicholas Beets, who still lives and even writes occasionally, though almost a nonagenarian. His 'Camera Obscura,' which has been translated into English, entitles Beets to be recognized as the Dickens of Holland, and his two novels, 'De Familie Stastoc' and 'De Familie Kegge,' are familiar to every Dutchman. The historical novelists, Jacob van Lennep and Mrs. Bosboom Toussaint, should not be overlooked.

One of the foremost Dutch poets of the century is Petrus Augustus de Genestet. Although he is not free from rhetoric, and frequently uses old and worn-out similes, his general view of things is wider and his feeling deeper than those of any of his contemporaries in verse. The contrast, for example, between him and Carel Vosmaer, though they belong to the same period, is very striking, for while the poetry of Genestet is full of feeling and ideality, that of Vosmaer is unemotional; and though he dresses his thoughts in beautiful words, the impression left upon the mind after reading his poetry is that which might be left after looking at a gracefully modelled piece of marble—it is fine as art, but cold and dead, and so awakens no responsive sympathy in the mind of the beholder.

But the greatest of modern Dutch authors, and the one who may be termed the forerunner of the renaissance of 1880, was E. Douwes Dekker, who died thirteen years ago. Dekker had an eventful career. He went to the Dutch Indies at the age of twenty-one, and there spent some seventeen years in official life, gradually rising to the position of Assistant Resident of Lebac. While occupying that office his eyes were opened to the defective System of government existing in the Colonies, and the abuses to which the natives were subjected. He tried to interest the higher officials on behalf of the subject races, but as all his endeavours proved unavailing he became disheartened, and, resigning his post, returned to Holland with the object of pleading in Government circles at home the cause which he had taken so deeply to heart. As a deaf ear was still turned to all his entreaties he decided, as a last resource, to appeal for a hearing at the bar of public opinion. He entered literature, and wrote the stirring story 'Max Havelaar,' in which he gave voice to the wrongs of the natives and the callous injustices perpetrated by the Colonial authorities. The book made a great sensation, and has unquestionably had very beneficial results in opening the public's eyes to some of the more glaring defects of Colonial administration.

In 1880 Dutch literature entered upon an entirely new phase. The chief authors of the movement then begun were Lodewryk van Deyssel, Albert Verwey, and Willem Kloos, who in the monthly magazine, De Nieuwe Gids, exercised by their trenchant criticisms the same beneficial and restraining influence upon the literature of the day as Potgieter and Bakhuizen did forty years before. The columns of the Nieuwe Gids were only opened to the very best of Dutch authors, and any works not coming up to the editors' high ideas of literary excellence were unmercifully 'slated' by these competent critics. Independence was the prominent characteristic of the authors of the period. They shook themselves free from the old thoughts and similes, and created new paths, in which their minds found freer expression. The new thoughts demanded new words, hence came about the practice of word-combination, which was in direct defiance of the conservative canons of literary style which had hitherto prevailed, so that nowadays almost every author adds a new vocabulary of his own to the Dutch language, so enhancing the charm of his own writings and adding to the literary wealth of the nation in general.

The poetess whom Holland to-day most delights to honour is Helena Lapidoth Swarth, whose works increase in worth and beauty every year. Her command of the Dutch language and her power of wresting from it literary resources which are unattainable by any other writer have made her the admiration of all critics of penetration. Louis Couperas is also another living poet of mark, who, however, does not confine himself to formal versification, for his prose is also poetry. His best works are 'Elme Vere,' the first book he wrote, and the characters in which are said to have been all taken from life, and his novels 'Majesty' and 'Universal Peace,' which have gained for him a European reputation, for they have been translated into most modern languages.

Women authors who have written works with a special tendency are Cornelie Huygens, who is known particularly by her novel 'Barthold Maryan;' Mrs. Goekoop de Jong, who champions the cause of women's rights; and Anna de Savornin Lohman, who, in a striking book entitled, 'Why question any longer?' has written very bitterly against the political conditions of the circle of society in which she moves.

While the authors of the present day are beneficially leavening popular opinion by inculcating higher and healthier sentiments, there are also authors in Holland, as elsewhere, who debase good metal, and write from a purely material standpoint. To this class of authors belong Marcellus Emants and Frans Netcher.

Of Dutch dramatic writers, Herman Heyermans is one of the most noteworthy, and some of his plays have been translated into French, and produced in Paris theatres.

It is a great drawback to literary effort in Holland that the honoraria paid to authors are so low that most writers who happen not to be pecuniarily independent—and they are the majority—are unable to make a tolerable subsistence at home by the pen alone, and are obliged to contribute to foreign publications, and some even resort to teaching. Many Dutch authors of high rank write anonymously in English, French, and German magazines, and probably earn far more in that way than by their contributions to Dutch ephemeral literature, for the ordinary fee for a sheet of three thousand words—which is the average length of a printed sheet in a Dutch magazine—is only forty francs.

The pity is that Dutch literature itself is not known as well as it deserves to be, for any one who takes the trouble to master the Dutch language will find himself well repaid by the treasures of thought which are contained in the modern authors of Holland.



Chapter XVI

The Dutch as Readers



Although printing was not invented in Holland, the nation would not have been unworthy of that honour, for there is a widespread culture of the book among all classes of the population, and the newspaper and periodical press makes further a very large contribution to its intellectual food. Nearly two thousand booksellers and publishers are engaged in the task of bringing within easy reach of their customers everything they wish to read. It is no unusual thing to find a decently equipped retail bookshop in quite unimportant townlets, and even in villages. By an admirable arrangement every publisher sends parcels of books for the various retailers all over the country to one central house in Amsterdam—'het Bestelhuis voor den Boekhandel' (the Booksellers' Collecting and Distributing Office). In this establishment the publishers' parcels are opened, and all books sent by the various publishers for one retailer are packed together and forwarded to him, by rail, steamer, or other cheap mode of conveyance. In consequence, any doctor, clergyman, or schoolmaster can receive a penny or twopenny pamphlet in his out-of-the-way home, as well as any book or periodical from London, Paris, Berlin, Vienna, etc., within a remarkably short time, without trouble, and without extra expense in postage, by simply applying to the local bookseller.

The Dutch are very cosmopolitan in their reading. Many children of the superior working classes learn French at the primary schools; most children of the middle class pick up English and German as well at the secondary schools, and a large proportion of them are able to talk in these three foreign languages; and as opportunities for intercourse are not over-abundant in the smaller towns, they keep up their knowledge of these languages by reading. Indeed, the five millions of Dutchmen are, relatively, the largest buyers of foreign literature in Europe. The translator, however, comes to the rescue of those who succeed in forgetting so much of their foreign languages that they find reading them a very mitigated enjoyment. This question of translation is rather a sore point in the relations between Dutch and foreign authors and publishers. The pecuniary injury done to foreign authors, however, is very slight, while in reputation they have benefited; for if Dutch private libraries are not without their Shakespeare, Motley, Macaulay, Dickens, Thackeray, Kingsley, Browning, not to mention French and German classics, this is mainly due to the fact that the parents of the present generation had the opportunity of buying Dutch translations, and explained to their children the value and the beauty of these works.

Moreover, most authors and publishers in foreign countries, using languages with world-wide circulation, are apt to miscalculate the profits made by Dutch publishers, with their very limited market and limited sale. A royalty of L5 for the right of translating some novel would be regarded as a contemptibly small sum in the English book world, but L5 in Dutch currency presses heavily on the budget of a Dutch translation, of which only some hundred or so copies can be sold at a retail price of not quite five shillings, and is an almost prohibitive price to pay for the copyright of a novel which is only used as the feuilleton of a local paper with an edition of under a thousand copies a week. As a fact, many Dutch publishers pay royalties to their foreign colleagues as soon as the publication is important enough to bear the expense; but the majority clearly will only give up their ancient 'right' of free translation, and agree to join the Berne Convention, if a practicable way can be found out of the financial difficulty. For the present, then, the Dutch are cosmopolitan readers, direct or indirect. In the average bookseller's shop one finds, of course, a majority of novels—novels of all sorts and conditions—supplemented by literary essays and poems. In a number of cases the bookseller is not merely a shopkeeper who deals in printed matter, and supplies just what his customers ask for, but a man of education and judgment, who is well able to give his opinion on books and authors. Often he has read them, though oftener, of course, he is guided by the leading monthly and weekly magazines and reviews, and by the publishers' columns of the leading daily newspapers. The bookseller is thus in many cases the trusted manager and guiding spirit of one or more 'Leesgezelschappen,' or 'Reading Societies.' These societies have a history. At the end of the eighteenth century they were often political and even revolutionary bodies. The members or subscribers met to discuss books, pamphlets, and periodicals, but frequently they discussed by preference the passages in the books bearing upon political conditions, and argued improvements which they considered desirable or necessary. As time passed by, and free institutions became the possession of the Dutch, the political mission of the Reading Society became exhausted, but the institution itself survived, and continues to the present day.

The 'Leesgezelschap' owes its special form to another peculiarity of the Dutch—their intensely domesticated, home-loving character. Family life, with its fine and delicate intimacies between husband and wife, between parent and children, is the most attractive feature of national existence in the Netherlands. Family life is, indeed, the centre from which the national virtues emanate, because there the individual members educate each other in the practice of personal virtues. The Dutchman is not constitutionally reserved and shy; he knows how to live a full, strong, public life; he never shrinks from civic duties and social intercourse; but his love of home life takes the first place after his passion for liberty and independence. Club life in Holland is insignificant, and few clubs even attempt to create a substitute for home life; they are merely used for friendly intercourse for an hour or so every day, and as better-class restaurants. A Dutchman prefers to do his reading at home, in the domestic circle, with the members of his family, or in his study if he follows some scientific occupation, and his 'Leesgezelschap' affords him the opportunity of doing this. There are military, theological, educational, philological, and all sorts of scientific reading societies, besides those for general literature. They work on the co-operative System. The manager is in many cases a local bookseller, buying Dutch and foreign books, magazines, reviews, illustrated weeklies and pamphlets in one or more copies, according to the number, the tastes, and the wants of the members. Most societies take in books and periodicals in four languages—Dutch, French, German, English—and so their members keep themselves well acquainted with the world's opinion. And all this, be it added, costs the subscriber vastly less than the fees of English circulating libraries, with their restricted advantages and heavy expenses of delivery.

Between the book and the newspaper lies a form of literature which is specifically Dutch—the 'Vlugschrift,' brochure, or pamphlet. The brochure is an old historical institution. In the eighteenth century it was very popular as a vehicle for the zeal of fiery reformers who thus vented their opinions on burning political questions of the day. There is no necessity nowadays for these small booklets, so easily hidden from suspicions eyes, though the brochure is still used whenever, in stirring speech or impassioned sermon, Holland's leading men address themselves to the emotions of the hour. These brochures, as a rule, cost no more than sixpence, yet, none the less, the thrifty Dutch have 'Leesgezelschappen' which buy and circulate them among their subscribers; they take everything from everybody, never caring whose opinions they read upon the various subjects of current interest, a trait which evidences a very praiseworthy lack of bias.

This lack of bias is not so obvions so far as newspaper reading is concerned. Like other people, the Dutch take such newspapers as defend or represent their own political opinions, and often affect towards journals on the other side a contemptuous indifference which is only half real.

Political parties in Holland differ slightly from those of Great Britain, except that in the former country politics and religion go together. Thus in Holland a Liberal who at the same time is not advanced in religious thought hardly exists, and would scarcely be trusted. In consequence the Liberals were not defeated at the last general elections because they were Liberals, but because their opponents (the Anti-Revolutionists and Roman Catholics) denounced them as irreligious and atheistical. In political strife the religious controversy takes the form of an argument for and against the influence of religious dogma upon politics and education.

Now, as far as journalism goes, the Liberal and Radical newspapers unquestionably take the lead. The Roman Catholics are like the Anti-Revolutionists, very anxious to provide their readers with wholesome news, but this anxiety is not successfully backed up by care that this wholesome news shall be early as well; hence their journalism is somewhat behind the times. Of most of the progressive newspapers it may be said that the whole of the contents are interesting; as to the rest, they are only interesting because of the leading articles, which are sometimes written by eminent men.

As far as circulation goes, Het Nieuws van den Dag can boast to be the leading journal, its edition running to nearly 40,000 copies a day. Up to the present its editors have been advanced, or 'Modern,' Protestant clergymen, in the persons of Simon Gorter, H. de Veer, and P.H. Ritter. Although not taking a strong line in politics, its inclinations are decidedly towards moderate Liberalism, and, thanks to its cheap price—14s. 6d. per annum—its extensive, prudently and carefully selected and worded supply of news, and its sagacious management, it became the family paper of the Dutch, excellently suiting the quiet taste of the middle class of the nation. It is found everywhere save in those few places where the Roman Catholic Church has sufficient influence to get it boycotted. The Nieuws, as it is generally called, gives from twenty-four to thirty-two, and even more, pages of closely printed matter, of which the advertisements occupy rather over than under half. One does not see it read in public more than any other Dutch paper, and two reasons account for this. One is the fact that, as has been said, a Dutchman prefers to do his reading at home—'met een boekje, in een hoekje' ('with my book in a quiet corner') is the Dutchman's ideal of cosy literary enjoyment. Then, too, Dutch newspaper publishers prefer a system of safe quarterly subscriptions to the chance of selling one day a few thousand copies less than the other, since even the largest circulation in Holland is too limited for risky commercial vicissitudes. Hence they make the price for single numbers so high that only the prospect of long hours in a railway-carriage frightens a Dutchman into buying one or more newspapers.

The Nieuwe Rotterdamsche Courant is another typical Dutch newspaper, but appealing to quite other instincts than the Nieuws. In their quiet way the Dutch are rather proud of their Nieuwe Kotterdammer, which inspires something like awe for its undeniable, but slightly ponderous, virtues. The Nieuwe Rotterdammer is absolutely Liberal, and stands no Radical or Social Democratic nonsense; its leading articles are lucid, cool, logical, and to the point; it has correspondents everywhere, at home and abroad; and all staunch Liberals of a clear-cut, even dogmatic type, who love Free Trade and look upon municipal and State intervention as pernicious, swear by it. The present chief editor is Dr. Zaayer, formerly a Liberal member of the Second Chamber of the States-General, a shrewd, well-read Dutchman, with a splendid University education; and the manager, J.C. Nijgh, is as clever a man of business as Rotterdam can produce. As far as it is possible to lead Dutchmen by printed matter, the Nieuwe Rotterdammer does it. Its supply of news is so fresh and so reliable that everybody reads it, even the Roman Catholics in North Brabant and Limburg, Holland's two Catholic counties.