Illustrations of political economy, Volume 6 (of 9)

In planning the present story, I was strongly tempted to use the ancient method of exemplification, and to present my readers with the Adventures of a Bill of Exchange, so difficult is it to exhibit by example the process of exchange in any other form than the history of the instrument. If, however, the transactions of Messrs. Vanderput and Snoek should be found to furnish my readers with a pretty clear notion of the nature and operation of the peculiar kind of currency of which this Number treats, I shall readily submit to the decision that the present volume has little merit as a specimen of exemplification. Though the working of principles might be shown in this case, as in any other, it could not, I think, be done naturally in a very small space. If I had had liberty to fill three octavo volumes with the present subject, an interesting tale might have been made up of the effects on private fortunes of the variations in the course of the Exchange, and of the liabilities which attend the use of a partial and peculiar representative of value. As it is, I have judged it best to occupy a large portion of my confined space in exhibiting a state of society to which such a species of currency is remarkably appropriate, in order that light might be thrown on the nature and operation of bills of exchange by showing what was being done, and what was wanted by those who most extensively adopted this instrument into their transactions.

In case of any reader questioning whether Dutchmen in the seventeenth century could advocate free trade, I mention that the principle has never been more distinctly recognized than at a remoter date than I have fixed, by countries which, like Holland, had little to export, and depended for their prosperity on freedom of importation. Every restriction imposed by the jealousy of those from whom they derived their imports was an unanswerable argument to them in favour of perfect liberty of exchange. As their herrings and butter were universally acknowledged to be the best herrings and butter in existence, and yet were not enough for the perfect comfort of the Dutch, the Dutch could not resist the conclusion, that the less difficulty there was in furnishing their neighbours with their incomparable herrings and butter, in return for what those neighbours had to offer, the better for both parties. The Dutch of the seventeenth century were therefore naturally enlightened advocates of the free trade.--Whether their light has from that time spread among their neighbours equally and perpetually, my next Number will show.

Chapter I.
MOURNING.

During the days when the prosperity of the United Provinces was at its height,--that is, during the latter half of the 17th century,--it could hardly be perceived that any one district of Amsterdam was busier than another, at any one hour of the day. There was traffic in the markets, traffic on the quays, the pursuit of traffic in the streets, and preparation for traffic in the houses. Even at night, when the casks which had been piled before the doors were all rolled under shelter, and dogs were left to watch the bales of merchandize which could not be stowed away before dark, there was, to the eye of a stranger, little of what he had been accustomed to consider as repose. Lights glanced on the tossing surface of the Amstel, as homeward-bound vessels made for the harbour, or departing ships took advantage of the tide to get under weigh. The hail of the pilots or the quay-keepers, or of a careful watchman here and there, or the growl and bark of a suspicious dog, came over the water or through the lime avenues with no unpleasing effect upon the wakeful ear, which had been so stunned by the tumult of noon-day as scarcely to distinguish one sound from another amidst the confusion.

One fine noon, however, in the summer of 1696, a certain portion of the busiest district of Amsterdam did appear more thronged than the rest. There was a crowd around the door of a handsome house in the Keiser's Graft, or Emperor's-street. The thickly planted limes were so far in leaf as to afford shade from the hot sun, reflected in gleams from the water in the centre upon the glaring white fronts of the houses; and this shade might tempt some to stop in their course, and lounge: but there were many who were no loungers flocking to the spot, and making their way into the house, or stationing themselves on the painted bench outside till they should receive a summons from within.

The presence of one person, who stood motionless before the entrance, sufficiently explained the occasion of this meeting. The black gown of this officer, and his low cocked hat, with its long tail of black crape, pointed him out as the Aanspreeker who, having the day before made the circuit of the city to announce a death to all who knew the deceased, was now ready to attend the burial. He stood prepared to answer all questions relative to the illness and departure of the deceased, and the state of health and spirits of the family, and to receive messages for them, to be delivered when they might be supposed better able to bear them than in the early hours of their grief. Seldom were more inquiries addressed to the Aanspreeker than in the present instance, for the deceased, Onno Snoek, had been one of the chief merchants of Amsterdam, and his widow was held in high esteem. The officer had no sooner ended his tale than he had to begin it again;--how the patient's ague had appeared to be nearly overcome; how he had suffered a violent relapse; how the three most skilful French apothecaries had been called in, in addition to the native family physician; how, under their direction, his son Heins had opened the choicest keg of French brandy, the most precious packages of Batavian spices in his warehouse, for the sake of the sick man; how, notwithstanding these prime medicaments, the fever had advanced so rapidly as to prevent the patient from being moved even to the window, to see a long expected ship of his firm come to anchor before his own door; how he seemed to have pleasure in catching a glimpse of her sails through the trees as he lay in bed; but how all his endeavours to live till morning that he might hear tidings of the cargo, had failed, and rather hastened his end, insomuch that he breathed his last before dawn.

Among the many interrogators appeared a young man who was evidently in haste to enter the house, but wished first to satisfy himself by one or two questions. He wore the dress of a presbyterian clergyman, and spoke in a strong French accent.

"I am in haste," he said, "to console my friends, from whom I have been detained too long. I was at Saardam yesterday, and did not hear of the event till this morning. I am in haste to join my friends; but I must first know in what frame the husband,--the father,--died. Can you tell me what were the last moments which I ought to have attended?"

The officer declared that they were most edifying. The patient's mind was quite collected.

"Thank God!" exclaimed M. Aymond, the divine.

"Quite collected," continued the officer, "and full of thought for those he left behind, as he showed by the very last thing he said. He had most carefully arranged his affairs, and given all his directions in many forms; but he remembered, just in time, that he had omitted one thing. He called Mr. Heins to his bed-side, and said, 'my son, there is one debtor of ours from whom you will scarce recover payment, as I never could. Meyerlaut has for many months evaded paying me for the last ebony we sold to him. Let him therefore make my coffin.--Stay!--I have not done yet.--You will, in course of nature, outlive your mother. Let her have a handsome coffin from the same man; and if it should please Heaven to take more of you, as our beloved Willebrod was taken, you will bear the same thing in mind, Heins, I doubt not; for you have always been a dutiful son.'"

"This is the way Heins told you the fact?" asked Aymond. "Well, but were these the last,--the very last words of the dying man?"

Heins had mentioned nothing that was said afterwards; so the divine pursued his way into the house with a sad countenance. Instead of joining the guests in the outer apartment, he used the privilege of his office, and of his intimacy with the family, and passed through to the part of the house where he knew he should find the widow and her young people. Heins met him at the door, saying,

"I knew you would come. I have been persuading my mother to wait, assuring her that you would come. How we have wished for you! How we----"

Aymond, having grasped the hand of Heins, passed him to return the widow's greeting. She first stood to receive the blessing he bestowed in virtue of his office, and then, looking him calmly in the face, asked him if he had heard how God had been pleased to make her house a house of mourning.

"I find dust and ashes where I looked for the face of a friend," replied the divine. "Can you submit to Heaven's will?"

"We have had grace to do so thus far," replied the widow. "But whether it will be continued to us when----"

Her eyes filled, and she turned away, as if to complete her preparations for going forth.

"Strength has thus far been given according to thy day," said Aymond. "I trust that it will be thus bestowed for ever." And he gave his next attention to one whom he was never known to neglect; one who loved him as perhaps nobody else loved him,--Heins's young brother, Christian.

Christian had suffered more in the twelve years of his little life than it is to be hoped many endure in the course of an ordinary existence. A complication of diseases had left him in a state of weakness from which there was little or no hope that he would ever recover, and subject to occasional attacks of painful illness which must in time wear him out. He had not grown, nor set a foot to the ground, since he was five years old: he was harassed by a perpetual cough, and in constant dread of the return of a capricious and fearful pain which seldom left him unvisited for three days together, and sometimes lasted for hours. When in expectation of this pain, the poor boy could think of little else, and found it very difficult to care for any body; but when suffering from nothing worse than his usual helplessness, his great delight was to expect M. Aymond, and to get him seated beside his couch. Aymond thought that he heard few voices more cheerful than that of his little friend, Christian, when it greeted him from the open window, or made itself heard into the passage,--'Will you come in here, M. Aymond? I am in the wainscoat parlour to-day, M. Aymond.'

Christian had no words at command this day, He stretched out his arms in silence, and sighed convulsively when released from the embrace of his friend.

"Did I hurt you? Have you any of your pain to-dayto-day?"

"No; not yet. I think it is coming; but never mind that now. Kaatje will stay with me till you come back. You will come back, M. Aymond."

When the pastor consented, and the widow approached to bid farewell to her child for an hour, Christian threw his arms once more round Aymond's neck. His brother Luc, a rough strong boy of ten, pulled them down, and rebuked him for being so free with the pastor; and little Roselyn, the spoiled child of the family, was ready with her lecture too, and told how she had been instructed to cross her hands and wait till M. Aymond spoke to her, instead of jumping upon him as she did upon her brother Heins. Christian made no other reply to these rebukes than looking with a smile in the face of the pastor, with whom he had established too good an understanding to suppose that he could offend him by the warmth of an embrace.

"I am sorry you cannot go with us, my poor little Christian," said Heins, who had a curious method of making his condolences irksome and painful to the object of them. "I am sorry you cannot pay this last duty to our honoured parent. You will not have our satisfaction in looking back upon the discharge of it."

"Christian is singled out by God for a different duty," observed the pastor. "He must show cheerful submission to his heavenly parent while you do honour to the remains of an earthly one."

Christian tried to keep this thought before him while he saw them leaving the room, and heard the coffin carried out, and the long train of mourners, consisting of all the acquaintance of the deceased, filing away from the door.--When the last step had passed the threshold, and it appeared from the unusual quiet that the crowd had followed the mourners, Christian turned from the light, and buried his face in one of the pillows of his couch, so that Katrina, the young woman who, among other offices, attended upon him and his little sister, entered unperceived by him. She attracted his attention by the question which he heard oftener than any other,--'the pain?'

"No," answered the boy, languidly turning his head; "I was only thinking of the last time----" Either this recollection, or the sight of Katrina's change of dress overcame him, and stopped what he was going to say. The short black petticoat, measuring ten yards in width, exhibited its newness by its bulk, its plaits not having subsided into the moderation of a worn garment. The blue stockings, the neat yellow slippers had disappeared, and the gold fillagree clasps in the front of the close cap were laid aside till the days of mourning should be ended. While Christian observed all this, contemplating her from head to foot, Katrina took up the discourse where he had let it fall.

"You were thinking of the last time my master had you laid on the bed beside him. It will always be a comfort to you, Christian, that he told you where he was departing."

"He did not tell me that," said the boy; "and that is just what I was wondering about. He said he was going, and I should like to know if he could have told where."

"To be sure he could. He was one of the chosen, and we know where they go. So much as you talk with the pastor, you must know that."

"I know that it is to heaven that they go, but I want to know where heaven is. Some of them say it is paradise; and some, the New Jerusalem; and some, that it is up in the sky among the angels. But do all the chosen know where they are going?"

Certainly, Katrina believed. The dying believer was blessed in his hope. Christian was not yet satisfied.

"I think I shall know when I am dying," said he. "At least, I often think I am dying when my pain comes in the night; but I do not know more about where I am going then than at other times."

Katrina hoped his mind was not tossed and troubled on this account.

"O, no; not at all. If God is good to me, and takes care of me here, he will keep me safe any where else, and perhaps let me go about where I like. And O, Kaatje, there will be no more crying, nor pain! I wish I may see the angels as soon as I die. Perhaps father is with the angels now. I saw the angels once, more than once, I think; but once, I am sure."

In a dream, Katrina supposed.

"No, in the broad day, when I was wide awake. You know I used to go to the chapel before my cough was so bad; as long ago as I can remember, nearly. There are curious windows in that chapel, quite high in the roof; and I often thought the day of judgment was come; and there was a light through those windows shining down into the pulpit; and there the angels looked in. I thought they were come for me, unless it was for the holy pastor."

"But would you have liked to go?"

"Yes: and when the prayer came after the sermon, instead of listening to the pastor, I used to pray that God would send the angels to take me away."

Katrina thought that if Christian had lived in another country, he would have made a fine martyr.

"I don't know," said the boy, doubtfully. "I have thought a great deal about that, and I am not so sure as I used to be. If they only cut off my head, I think I could bear that. But as for the burning,--I wonder, Kaatje, whether burning is at all like my pain. I am sure it cannot be much worse."

Katrina could not tell, of course; but she wished he would not talk about burning, or about his pain; for it made him perspire, and brought on his cough so as to exhaust him to a very pernicious degree. He must not talk any more now, but let her talk to him. He had not asked yet what company had come to the funeral.

Christian supposed that there was every body whom his father had known in Amsterdam.

Yes, every body: and as there were so many to drink spirits at the morning burial, her mistress chose to invite very few to the afternoon feast. Indeed her mistress seemed disposed to have her own way altogether about the funeral. Every body knew that Mr. Heins would have liked to have it later in the day, and would not have minded the greater expense for the sake of the greater honour.

"I heard them talk about that," said Christian. "My mother told Heins that it was a bad way for a merchant to begin with being proud, and giving his father a grand funeral; and that the best honour was in the number of mourners who would be sure to follow an honest man, whether his grave was filled at noon or at sunset. My mother is afraid of Heins making a show of his money, and learning to fancy himself richer than he is."

Katrina observed that all people had their own notions of what it was to be rich. To a poor servant-maid who had not more than 1000 guilders out at interest----

"But your beautiful gold chain, Kaatje! Your silver buckles! I am sure you must have ten pair, at the least."

"Well, but, all this is less than many a maid has that has been at service a shorter time than I have. To a poor maid-servant, I say, it seems like being rich to have I don't know how many loaded ships between China and the Texel."

"They belong as much to Mr. Vanderput as to us, you know. Is Mr. Vanderput here to-day?"

"To be sure. He is to be at the burial-feast; and Miss Gertrude----."

"Gertrude! Is Gertrude here?" cried Christian, sitting up with a jerk which alarmed his attendant for the consequences. "O, if she will stay the whole day, it will be as good as the pastor having come back."

"She crossed from Saardam on purpose. She will tell you about the angels, if any body can; for she lives in heaven as much as the pastor himself, they say."

"She is an angel herself," quietly observed Gertrude's little adorer. Katrina went on with her list.

"Then there is Fransje Slyk and her father. He looks as if he knew what a funeral should be, and as grave as if he had been own brother to the departed. I cannot say as much for Fransje."

"I had rather have Fransje's behaviour than her father's, though I do not much like her," said Christian. "Mr. Slyk always glances round to see how other people are looking, before he settles his face completely."

"Well; you will see how he looks to-day. These are all who will stay till evening, I believe, except Mr. Visscher."

"Mr. Visscher! What is he to stay for? I suppose Heins wants to talk to him about this new cargo that came too late. O, Kaatje, I never can bear to look through the trees at that ship again. I saw the white sails in the moonlight all that night when I lay watching what was going on, and heard Heins's step in and out, and my mother's voice when she thought nobody heard her; and I could not catch a breath of my father's voice, though I listened till the rustle of my head on the pillow startled me. And then my mother came in, looking so that I thought my father was better; but she came to tell me that I should never hear his voice any more. But O, if she knew how often I have heard it since! how glad I should be to leave off hearing it when I am alone----."

Poor Christian wept so as not to be comforted till his beloved friend Gertrude came to hear what he had to say about those whom he believed to be her kindred angels.

Heins was missed from the company soon after the less familiar guests had departed, and left the intimate friends of the family to complete the offices of condolence. Heins was as soon weary of constraint as most people, which made it the more surprising that he imposed on himself so much more of it than was necessary. All knew pretty well what Heins was, though he was perpetually striving to seem something else; and his painful efforts were just so much labour in vain. Every body knew this morning, through all the attempts to feel grief by which he tried to cheat himself and others, that his father's death was quite as much a relief as a sorrow to him; and that, while he wore a face of abstraction, he was longing for some opportunity of getting out upon the quay to learn tidings of the ships and cargoes of which he was now in fact master. The fact was that Heins was as much bent on being rich as his father had been, but he wanted to make greater haste to be so, and to enjoy free scope for a trial of his more liberal commercial notions. For this free scope, he must yet wait; for his partner, Mr. Vanderput, was as steady a man of business, though a less prejudiced one, than the senior Snoek had been; and then there was Mrs. Snoek. She was not permitted, by the customs of the country, to meddle in affairs relating to commerce; but she knew her maternal duty too well not to keep an eye on the disposal of the capital which included the fortunes of her younger children. It was to be apprehended that she would be ready with objections whenever a particularly grand enterprize should demand the union of all the resources of the firm. Some liberty had, however, been gained through the obstinacy of the fever which would not yield to French brandy and Oriental spices; and there were many eyes upon Heins already, to watch how he would set out on his commercial career.

Some of these eyes followed him from his mother's door to the quay, and back again, when he had concluded his inquiries among the captains. It was remarked that there was, during the latter transit, a gloom in his countenance which was no mockery.

On his re-appearance in his mother's parlour, the cause was soon told, first to his partner, next to his mother, and then (as there were none but intimate friends) to all present. The result of the communication was an outcry against the English, as very troublesome neighbours, while the widow's first thought was of thankfulness that her husband had died without hearing news which would have caused him great trouble of mind. Heins appealed to all who understood the state of Dutch commerce, whether Great Britain had not done mischief enough long ago, by prohibiting the importation of bulky goods by any ships but those which belonged to the exporting or importing country.

"That prohibition was evidently aimed at us Dutch," observed Vanderput. "We were carriers to half the world, till Great Britain chose that we should no longer carry for her. She might punish herself in that manner, and welcome, if she could do so without punishing us; but it is a serious grievance,--difficult as it now is to find an investment for our capital,--to be obliged to lay by any of our shipping as useless."

"We did all we could," said Heins piteously. "Since we could not carry the produce of the East and West into the ports of Great Britain for sale, we brought it here, that the British captains might not have far to go for it. But it seems that Great Britain is jealous of this; for there is a new prohibition (if the report be true) against importing any bulky produce purchased anywhere but in the country where it is produced."

"I hope this is too bad to be true," observed Visscher.

"Nothing is too bad to be attempted by a jealous country against one which has been particularly successful in commerce," observed Snoek. "The tonnage of this country is more than half that of all Europe; and Great Britain thinks it time to lower our superiority. Whether she will gain by doing so, time will show."

"I think Great Britain is very illnatured and very mean," observed Christian, who had generally something to say on every subject that was discussed in his presence. "I think I shall call her Little Britain, from this time. But, Heins, what will you do with all the things you have bought, as you told me, in Asia and America, and in France and Italy? You must send back your cinnamon to Ceylon, and----O, but I forgot that other people may buy them, though the English will not. But I hope you have not bought too much for the present number of your customers. There is another large ship coming from one of the American islands, I heard----."

He was checked by the remembrance of who it was that told him this. Heins related, with a deep sigh, which might be given to the memory of either the ship or its owner, that the vessel had been wrecked, and was now at the bottom of the sea. This was the other piece of bad news he had to tell. At least two-thirds of his hearers asked after the crew, while the rest inquired for the cargo. The cargo was lost, except a small portion, which had been preserved with difficulty. The crew had been picked up, only one sailor-boy being missing. It was from two of them who had found their way home that Heins had received the tidings of his misfortune.

"One sailor-boy!" repeated Christian. "Do you know how he was lost? Was he blown from the yards, do you think? Or was he washed overboard? or did he go down with the ship?"

Heins did not know any particulars of the sailor-boy. But where? But how? But when did this happen?

It happened where many shipwrecks had happened before, and many would again, and in the same manner. The vessel had struck on the Eddystone rock on a stormy night. This was another nuisance for which the Dutch were indebted to the English. This fatal rock----.

"Did the English make the Eddystone rock?" little Roselyn inquired, in a low voice, of the pastor. "I thought it was God that broke up the fountains of the deeps, and fixed the everlasting hills." Her wiser brother Christian enlightened her.

"God made this rock; but perhaps he made it so that it might be of use to us, instead of doing us harm, if the English would make the best use of it. Is not that what Heins means, M. Aymond?"

M. Aymond believed that what Mr. Vanderput had just said was true; that the English were about to build a light-house on this dangerous rock, which might thus be made to guide ships into a British harbour, instead of causing them to perish. He trusted that it would appear that Heins was mistaken in saying that many more ships would be lost on that rock; and he hoped that men would learn in time to make all God's works instruments of blessing to their race. Christian carried on the speculation.

"And then, perhaps, man's works may not perish by accident before they are worn out, as this ship did. But yet this was what happened with one of God's works too,--that sailor-boy. He perished before he was worn out. But why do people ever wear out, M. Aymond? Whether a person is drowned at fifteen or dies worn out at eighty, does not much signify, if God could make them live a thousand years. Only think of a person living a thousand years, M. Aymond! He would see cities grow as we see ant-hills rise, while the sea roared against the dykes as it did at the beginning. He would see the stars move so often that he would know them all in their places. He would know almost everything. O! why do not men live a thousand years? and why does God let a young sailor-boy be lost?"

Gertrude whispered, "All the days of Methuselah were nine hundred, sixty and nine years; and he died."

"Yes," added the pastor, gravely meeting the kindling eyes of Christian; "death comes sooner or later; and whether it came soon or late would be all in all if we were to live no more. But as man's life is never to end----"

"Ah! I see. If his life is never to end, it does not signify so much when he passes out of one kind of life into another. I was going to ask why there should be any death at all. If I made a world, I would----"

Christian had talked too eagerly, and now was prevented by his cough from speaking any more at present. When he recovered his voice, the pastor turned his attention from the lost sailor-boy to the lost ship, asking whether it had not answered its purpose in making several voyages; whether the skill and toil of the artificers had not been repaid. Christian thought not; and he went on to exhibit as much as he could of the worked up knowledge and labour which had in this instance been engulphed by the waves. He seemed so much irritated, however, by his imperfection in the knowledge of ship-building, that Gertrude proposed that he should pay her a visit at Saardam, where he might look down from a window upon the dock-yard, and witness nearly the whole process without being moved from his couch. She almost repented the proposal when she saw the poor boy's rapture; but, happily, no one perceived any objection to the plan. The little voyage of seven miles could be made perfectly easy to invalids; and it was quite certain that Christian would be happy with Gertrude, if anywhere. Heins and the pastor contended for the charge of Christian, and old Mr. Slyk, the most punctilious of mourners, allowed that such an indulgence might,--especially with a view to increased knowledge,--be extended to a sufferer like Christian, within the days of strict mourning, provided the mother and the younger children staid at home. Luc clenched his fist on hearing this, and Roselyn pouted; but their jealousy of their brother soon vanished when his dreaded pain came on, and they were put out of the room by their mother, as usual, that they might not become hardened to the expressions of agony which they could not relieve.

They were heartily glad when the day was nearly over;--when there was an end of going from the melancholy burial feast in one room, into the apartment where Gertrude was describing to the now passive Christian spectacles which they were not to see, and pleasures which were held to be incompatible with the mourning of which they already required to be reminded. They were not, however, allowed to retire in this state of forgetfulness of the occasion. The pastor's closing prayer, the solemn looks of the servants, and their mother's silent tears when she laid her hand upon their heads, left them no disposition for complaint as they stole away to their beds.

"One, two, three,--five of you going with me to Saardam!" cried Christian, as he saw Heins and the pastor follow the children and Katrina into the boat: the children who, in Mr. Slyk's absence, had prevailed on their mother's good nature to let them go with their brothers. "And Mr. Visscher is coming before the afternoon. What a party to belong to me!"

It was very natural that Christian should overrate his own importance, passing his life, as he did, in a little circle where every one was eager to give him pleasure: but never was he more mistaken than in supposing that he was any thing more than a convenient pretence to some of his friends for visiting Saardam. There was an attraction there which would have taken two of them thither every day, if as good an excuse had offered as that of which they now took advantage. Heins felt that at Saardam resided one who would make as perfect a wife for a rich Amsterdam merchant as could be imagined, if she had but a little more gaiety. She was pretty; she was amiable; she was rich; and she and his mother would suit admirably; and the children were fond of her. The pastor's feelings about Gertrude are less easily described; but they tended to the same object as those of Heins. These two were aware of each other's intentions; but there was as little enmity in their rivalship as there was present satisfaction in their pursuit. Aymond was perfectly convinced that Gertrude could never love Heins; but he was nearly as certain that she did not yet love himself: and Heins found that he made no progress in the lady's good graces, while he trusted that his friendly hints to her brother would prevent her throwing herself away upon a poor refugee minister of religion, whose tender conscience had already led him into adversity, and who could therefore never be trusted to keep out of it in future.

"What a party of you to take care of me!" repeated Christian, in great glee, when he began to enjoy the easy motion of the boat, and to perceive that his deadly enemy, the fog, was clearing away before the bright June sunshine. "Look, pastor, look at Amsterdam! Is there a city in the world like Amsterdam, I wonder? How the spires, and the highest houses stand up out of the mist, like a little city floating in the air, or sailing in a cloud. O, Heins!--Kaatje, do ask Heins which bells those are. I am sure I never heard such sweet bells before."

They were the bells of St. Nicholas Church, which Christian heard almost every day of his life. Christian would hardly believe they were the same.

"They clatter and jangle so as to make my head ache very often; but these might send one to sleep, if it were not much pleasanter to lie awake and listen to them.--Everything is light coloured here to what it is at home,--as if silver had been shed over it. The sky is not bright blue, as it is between the limes, but grey; and the water gleams as if the moon was hanging just over it; and it is not muddy under the boat as it is below our bridge; and I dare say there is never any bad smell, and nobody need be afraid of ague. I wish we could stop, that I might fish. There must be plenty of fine fish in such water as this."

When reminded of Saardam dock-yards, however, he had no further wish for delay. From this moment to the time of landing, Katrina's good-nature was taxed to turn him incessantly, that he might see, now the forest of masts at Amsterdam, and the dark hulls resting upon the grey water, and then the gaily-painted wooden houses of Saardam, with their pointed gables turned some one way and some another, each with its weather-cock; and all looking like baby-houses amidst the vast piles of timber from which the dock-yards were supplied.

Christian's delight was in no wise diminished when he was established on his couch at the promised window, whence he could overlook one of the busiest parts of the dock-yard. He had no attention to spare for the tidings of wonder which Roselyn brought, from one quarter of an hour to another, when she had fairly gained her point of being allowed to find her way about as she pleased. Now she drew near to whisper that she was sure there was to be a very good dinner, as twice the quantity of turf was burning in the kitchen that was ever used at home, and such a number of bright pots upon the fire that it was inconceivable what could be in them. She had tried to find out, but they were all close covered, and the servants were so busy and so quiet that she was afraid to ask. Better wait and see, Christian pronounced; so off ran Roselyn in another direction, whence she soon returned with more wonders. The garden,--Christian must see the garden. It was little larger than the room he was sitting in; but it had walks, and grottos, and a rivulet; and the rivulet had a paved bed of pebbles, and the walks were made of cockle-shells, and the borders of red and blue and green glass; and the wall which enclosed the whole, was chequered with blue and white bricks. Moreover, there was a better garden some way off, with tulips as fine as could be seen any where within five leagues of Amsterdam. Fond of tulips and good dinners as Christian was, all this interested him less than what was passing before his eyes. He wanted to be left in peace to make his observations, till his beloved Gertrude could come and answer his questions.

When she appeared, Heins was at her heels. He could never understand that it was disagreeable to her to be followed, which ever way she turned; and attributed her gravity of countenance to the religious bent she had taken, which was a most desirable quality in a wife. Christian wished, with all his heart, that Heins would keep away, that Gertrude and he might be as happy together as they always were when there was no one by to whom she curtsied and spoke with formality.

"Does not this hammering tire you?" she asked.

"You had better let me carry you into the inner room," said Heins. "It is as quiet there as on the water."

"O, no, no," cried Christian. "I have not seen half that I want; and I am very glad that they are at work so nearly under the window, because I can watch what they are doing. They were hauling up that great beam when I came, and now look how nicely they have fitted it into its place. But I want to know who some of these people are. You see that short man, smoking, with the rule in his hand, and a great roll of papers peeping out of his breeches pocket."

"Yes; that is a master-builder. You will see that he is never long out of sight of his men."

"You might have known him for the master-builder, and these shipwrights for his men," observed Heins.

"I guessed who he was: but there is another who looks something like a master too, though he is dressed like a sailor. He is a very idle man, I think. He has stood there all this time, with his arms folded, making the men laugh, and the master too, sometimes. Once he took up a mallet that another man had laid down; and a strong blow he gave with it: but he soon left off, and the master did not seem to scold him at all."

"Nobody scolds Master Peter. Nobody asks him to do more work than he likes; but he does a great deal; and hard work too. He likes joking quite as well as working; and these men are fond of having him among them, for he lightens their labour, and is very good-natured."

This hint was enough for Luc, who came into the apartment just in time to hear it. He found his way to another window which also looked into the yard, and began to call, at first cautiously, and then more loudly, "Master Peter! Master Peter!"

Master Peter did not hear till the party at the window heard also; and when he turned, Gertrude was leaning out to ascertain which of her household was making overtures of acquaintance. Luc's head had already disappeared; so that Master Peter could not but suppose that it was Gertrude who had greeted him. He laid his hand on his breast, and, with a gesture of courtesy, advanced directly beneath the window. The lady explained that some young visitors had made free with his good-nature; and he immediately asked if they would like to come down and view the dock-yard. At the close of his speech, he turned to the master, as if suddenly recollecting that he ought to ask permission to admit visitors. The master exerted himself to intermit his puffs of smoke, while he desired Master Peter to do as he chose.

"O, let me go! let me go!" cried Christian, in answer to Heins's doubts whether it would not be causing too much trouble to gratify the boy's wish.

Gertrude soon settled the affair by taking hold of one side of Christian's little chair, and making Katrina take the other. She would not relinquish her grasp in favour of Heins, who followed her out, officiously pressing his help; she reserved that favour for Master Peter, who met the party at the gate of the yard, and immediately seeing the state of the case, took the boy in his arms, and promised to show him whatever he wished to see. Those who knew Christian thought this a large promise; and Heins was very instructive as to the degree in which it should be accepted.

The boy himself, as he looked around him, scarcely knew where and how to begin his inquiries. Vessels in every stage of progress, from the bare-ribbed skeleton to the full-rigged merchant ship, ready for launching, met his eye in every direction. The carpenters' yards resounded with the blows of the mallet; the rope-walks looked tempting; and he also wanted to be carried among the stacks of timber which seemed to him too huge to have been piled up by human strength.

"Where can all this wood have come from?" was his natural exclamation.

"Some of it came from my country," replied Master Peter. "You see that pile of tall pine-trees laid one upon another as high as the Stadt-house. Those are masts for the ships we are building; and they come out of the woods of my country. They came as part of a cargo, and some of them will go back as part of a ship that carries a cargo."

"And where will it go next?"

"It will come back again with hemp to make such ropes as those, and pitch and tar to smear the timbers with, and canvass for the sails, and many things besides that your people want for use, and your merchants for sale,--tallow, and oils, and hides, and furs."

"But do not you want the hemp, and pitch, and canvass for your own ships? Or have you enough for both yourselves and us?"

Master Peter was sorry to say that very few ships had yet been built in his country. He hoped there would soon be more. But his countrymen must still manage to have enough of the produce of their woods and wilds for themselves and the Dutch, as they could not do without many things which the Dutch merchants were accustomed to bring them in exchange; silks and jewels, for the ladies; wine, spice, and fruit, for their tables: gold and silver to make money of; and pewter vessels and steel utensils for their kitchens."

"But you can fetch these things for yourselves when you have ships," argued Christian.

"We can fetch them, but we must have something ready to give in payment for them."

Heins disputed whether any other country could compete with the United Provinces in fetching commodities from all parts of the globe. He treated with solemn ridicule Master Peter's hopes of what might be achieved by fleets which were not yet in existence, and pointed out, with a very insulting air of superiority, the resources of his own country.--To say nothing of the half-finished navy which was before their eyes, there was a forest of masts just within sight, which he defied any port in the world to rival. There were ships of his own and his partner's bringing iron, copper, and the materials of war from Sweden and Norway; grain and flax-seed from the Baltic; books, wines, and timber from Germany; coal from England; spice, fruits, and cottons from the regions of the east; and gold and silver from the west.

All very true, Master Peter allowed; but all this need not prevent his country from fetching and carrying as much as she could, whether it might prove more convenient to furnish herself with all that she wanted from the ports of Holland, or to go round the world to purchase each commodity in its native region. In answer to Heins's boast of the commerce of the United Provinces, Peter begged to remind him that it was now past its greatest glory. It had perceptibly declined for more than twenty years.--Heins insisted that the shipping of the United Provinces nearly equalled that of the whole of the rest of Europe.--True again; but it was pretty certain that Dutch prosperity would not advance much beyond the point it had now reached, while that of other countries might rapidly overtake it. The Dutch had so much wealth that they now found difficulty in making profitable use of it in their own country; and by lending it to foreigners, they helped those foreigners to become rivals to themselves. Such was the result of Master Peter's observation in the course of his travels,--travels which he hoped to extend to England, where he might chance to meet Dutch capital in another form. He understood that the Dutch had not only deposited forty millions of their wealth in the English funds, but had lent large sums to individuals; thus investing money in a rival country for the sake of the higher interest which could be obtained there.

Christian thought this very unpatriotic. If it was true, also, as he had been told by his mother, that Heins and Mr. Vanderput sold no goods abroad, but brought a great many to sell at home, he thought the firm very wrong indeed. If they chose to spend Dutch money in the countries of their rivals and their enemies, they ought at least to take care that their rivals spent as much money among them.

Heins replied that this was the concern of the exporting merchants who had the use of the ships to carry out Dutch produce, which were to return with foreign commodities.

"You should look well to them," persisted Christian; "for I do not believe they bring in half so much money as you send out. I never see such a thing as a Spanish dollar, or an English guinea, unless a traveller has come to Amsterdam to spend it; and how we have so many ducats, and guilders, and stivers left, after the number you send away, is more than I can tell."

Heins replied mysteriously that his partner and he seldom sent away any money; which made Christian very angry, certain as he was of what his mother had told him of Heins being an importing merchant.

"How can you tease the boy?" inquired Master Peter. And he asked Christian if he really supposed that everything that was bought, all the world over, was bought with gold and silver? If he would only consider the quantity of coin that would have been collected in the States by this time if all their produce had been thus paid for, he would see how troublesome such a method of commerce would be.

But some of this money would go away again, Christian observed, as long as the States bought as well as sold. However, he perceived that while there was mutual exchange, it must save much trouble to exchange the goods against one another, as far as they would go, and pay only the balance in money. But this balance, when large, must be a very sad thing for the country that had to pay it.

"Do you think the country would become liable to pay it," asked Master Peter, "if it had no advantage in return? Do you think your brother would run up heavy bills with the French wine-growers, if he did not hope to make profit of their wines? When my country has as many ships as I wish her to have, I shall encourage my merchants to--I mean, I hope my countrymen will--make very large purchases from foreign countries."

"But if Heins sends away a ship load of guilders," remonstrated Christian, "the States will be so much the poorer, however much wine may come in return; because the wine will be drunk in Amsterdam, and paid for with more guilders. And then Heins will send out these guilders again, I suppose, and not care how little money there is left in the country, so long as his own pocket is filled."

Heins smiled condescendingly, and promised Christian that when he grew older he should know better what he was talking about. How should the boy know better, unless his questions were answered? asked Gertrude, who came with Katrina to relieve Master Peter of his charge. But the good-natured sailor took his seat on a piece of timber, saying that the little man should have his questions properly attended to;--questions the very same as had been asked by many a taller, if not a wiser man. Christian did not like to be called "little man," but forgave the expression in consideration of his questions being thought manly. Peter told him that many kings having feared for their kingdoms what Christian feared for the States,--that they would be emptied of money,--had passed laws to prohibit money being sent out of the country. They had not remembered, any more than Christian, that other countries must buy also; so that Heins's neighbours would be taking money from abroad, while Heins was sending it out,--supposing that it actually went in the shape of guilders.

"But how do we know that they will buy?" asked Christian. "If they do not choose to buy--what then?"

"They always do choose it, and must choose it, since they cannot get what they want in any other way. The people in the mine-countries,--in South America,--have more gold and silver than they know what to do with; and no linen, no cloth, no knives and pots and kettles, no one of many articles that they consider necessary to their comfort. Now, would not it be very foolish in their governors to prevent their sending out their spare gold in exchange for what they must otherwise do without?"

Yes: but Christian thought the case of mining countries peculiar. No where else, he supposed, was precious metal superabundant. If it were indeed,----But perhaps the truest sign of there being too much of it was the wish of the people to send it away. What would Master Peter do if he was a ruler?

Master Peter's nation being in great want of gold and silver, he should wish his people to send out as much tallow and timber as they could sell; but if he ruled in Holland, where there was more precious metal than was wanted, he would encourage the Dutch to send out velvets and brandy, for the sake of bringing back, not money, but wealth in some more useful form. In either case, it would be for the sake of what was brought back that he should be anxious to have the produce of the country exported.

Of course, Christian observed, there could be little good in sending property away unless for the sake of what it brought back. He, for his part, should have no particular wish to dispose of his show-box at the next fair, if he was to have only an apple in exchange; but he should be glad to sell it for the model of a ship which he much desired to have. In the latter case, he should be much pleased; but his pleasure would be, not in parting with his show-box, but in gaining the model.

"Well, my dear boy," said Heins, "that will do. We are not children who want to have every thing explained by a wise little man like you."

"Those kings were not children that Master Peter was speaking of," observed Christian; "and yet they seemed to want to have it explained that they might as well part with their gold as with anything else, since the thing that signified most was whether they got anything better in exchange."

"You have quite changed your opinion," said Gertrude. "An hour ago, you thought it a very sad thing to part with gold."

"Yes; because I thought gold was somehow more valuable than anything else; that it had a value of its own. But, if there is any one country where gold is of little use, it seems as if it was much like other goods;--fit to be changed away when one has too much of it, and got back again when one wants it."

"Then it is time," said Gertrude, "that merchants, and those who rule them, should leave off being very glad when money is imported rather than goods, and very sorry when it is exported."

"They may feel sure," Heins observed, "that they will soon have an opportunity of getting more money, if they want it. No one thing is bought and sold so often as money; and they may be as confident that some will soon fall in their way as that there would always be blue cloth in the market, if every trader in the world bought and sold blue cloth."

Christian saw yet another consequence from what Master Peter had told him. If gold was very cheap in Peru and very dear in Russia, and if furs and hemp were very cheap in Russia and very dear in Peru, it would do as much good to the one country as to the other to exchange them, while it could do nobody any harm. At this grand discovery the boy was so delighted that he ran the risk of bringing on his pain by the start which he made to put his face opposite to Master Peter's. It was very mortifying to hear once more Heins's compassionate laugh, while he asked whether everybody did not know this before. Did not his mother send abroad the butter which it cost very little to make at the farm, and cause her household to eat salt butter of foreign preparation?

"I never could make that out; and Kaatje never could tell me," exclaimed Christian. "We none of us like the salt butter so well; and it costs more to buy than our own fresh butter to make; and yet we must all eat salt butter."

"Because my mother can sell every kop of her butter abroad for more than she pays for the best salt butter that is brought in. You know there is no butter to equal the Dutch."

"Nor anything else, by your own account, Mr. Heins," replied Master Peter, laughing. "There is nothing to be found abroad equal to what you have at home. A pretty honest boast this for a large importer! What say you to your corn?"

"That our difficulty in producing it has proved the loftiness of Dutch genius, and the abundance of Dutch resources. Nature has placed us in a barren district, where we have not the less multiplied and prospered, through our own talents and virtues, by which we have been supplied from abroad with that which Providence had forbidden to us."

"If Providence forbade us to have corn," said Christian aside to Gertrude, "how is it that we have corn? It seems to me that it is very like Providence's having made the Eddystone Rock a dangerous place. Men have been reminded to make it a useful beacon; and our people at home have been obliged to begin a trade in corn; which trade has made them rich; so that they are better off, perhaps, than if they had had the most fertile fields in the world."

Gertrude smiled, and said she believed this was the method by which Providence taught men to help one another, and showed them how. After this, Christian heard no more of the argument going on about the extent to which the Dutch traders had successfully carried their principles of exporting goods that were cheap, and importing those which were dear. He was pondering the uses of adversity,--of the few kinds of adversity which had particularly struck him.--What was there in the storms of the Zee,--what was there in the clay soil of Luc's garden, where no hyacinths would grow,--what was there in the French king's ravaging wars,--what was there in his own horrible pain, to show men how to help one another? In his own case, one side of the question was easily answered. At this moment, while his weary head was resting on Master Peter's breast, wondering at the depth of voice which vibrated from within, he felt that his infirmities allured the wise and the strong to help and comfort him; but how wars stimulated men to aid as well as destroy one another--much more, how he could be of service to any body, were subjects for much deeper meditation. Just when he had an impression that he had arrived near the solution, he unconsciously lost the thread of his argument; and when his companions, some time afterwards, would have asked his opinion of what was last said, they found that he was happily asleep on the bosom of his new friend.

The hut in which Master Peter had taken up his abode being just at hand, he insisted on laying the boy on his own bed, while he took his frugal workman's meal. Gertrude, who said she could see the dock-yards any day of her life, remained with Christian, while her guests continued their survey of the curiosities of the place.

When they returned to the house to dinner, they found that the other expected guest, Aalbert Visscher, had arrived, and was making himself very agreeable to Christian;--probably more so than to Gertrude; since his discourse was of pleasures whose number and variety could scarcely be approved by such steady and self-denying persons as the Vanderputs. Gay were the tales of the snipe-shooting and skaiting of last winter; of the sailing and fishing matches of the spring; and of the wagers of fancy pipes and rare tobacco which yet remained to be decided by the arrival or non-arrival of expected ships by a certain day. Gertrude rose and offered to show Christian the curious time-piece he had inquired for;--the time-piece whose hours were struck on porcelain cups by a silver hammer. It was almost the first time Gertrude was ever known to break voluntarily the modest silence of a Dutchwoman in company; much more to interrupt the conversation of another; and Christian looked up surprised.

"My poor boy," exclaimed Aalbert, "I beg your pardon. I only thought of amusing you, and I am afraid I have hurt you."

"O, because I cannot shoot and skait and swim? It does not hurt me, indeed, or I am sure I should be very unhappy; for I hear of something every day that I shall never be able to do."

"Christian likes to hear of other people's pleasures, whether he can join in them or not," observed Gertrude. "But he can lay wagers, and may be all the more easily tempted to do so from having fewer amusements than you, Mr. Visscher."

"And you do not approve of laying wagers, my sober lady," replied Aalbert.

"It is God who appoints the winds, and makes a path in the deep waters for the blessings he brings us," replied Gertrude; "and I think it scarcely becomes us to sport with the uncertainty with which He is pleased to try our faith, and make matter for gambling of His secret counsels."

The pastor enforced the impiety. Vanderput thought all gambling vicious; and Heins proved to Christian that in him it would be peculiarly atrocious, since, as he could never hope to earn any money, his speculations must be at the risk of others. Christian ingenuously admitted all this, but was not the less in a hurry to ask for more tales of adventure from the gay bill-broker, as soon as the pastor's long grace was over. Nothing more was said of wagers; nor was it necessary, so ample were Aalbert's other resources of amusement,--or, as the pastor expressed it, of dissipation. Aymond's countenance wore a deeper gravity every moment as he saw the eagerness with which the children listened, the indolent satisfaction with which Vanderput let his guests be thus entertained, and the interest with which even Gertrude appeared to be beguiled. Heins also perceived this interest; and thought it time to be exerting himself to rival it. He took advantage of every long puff with which his adversary regaled himself, to draw attention upon his own gaieties. For every wild-duck, he had a story of a tulip; for every marvellous bagging of snipe, he had an unheard-of draught of herrings. If Aalbert had made a humorous bargain at the last Rotterdam fair, he had made an excessively acute one. If the bill-broker had met with a ducking in Haerlem lake, the importer had been within an ace of running aground in the Zuyder Zee. There was a remarkable parallel between their fortunes if Gertrude would but perceive it. What she was most ready to perceive, however, was that the conversation grew very tiresome after Heins had taken it up; and she was not sorry when the boatmen sent in word that it was time the party were afloat, if they meant to reach Amsterdam before the gates were closed.

The prudent guests were in haste to be gone. It was true that, by paying a stiver each, they might gain admittance any time within an hour from the first closing of the gates; but where was the use of paying a stiver, if it could be as well avoided?

As it was bad for Christian's cough to be on the water in the evening, he was left behind to enjoy one more survey of the dock-yard,--one more chance of intercourse with his dear Master Peter. He sacrificed something, he knew, in not seeing the congregation of dark masts springing from the silver mist, and not feeling the awe of penetrating the fog where unknown obstacles might be concealed. He remembered something of the night-call of the boatmen, alternating with the splash of their oars, as they approached the crowded harbour; and he would have liked to hear it again. But Gertrude was at hand to hearken to and join in his vesper prayer, and to sing him to sleep with any hymn he chose.

"My pain has not come to-day, nor yesterday, nor the day before," said he, as he lay down. "I do not think it will come yet. O, Gertrude, suppose it should never come any more!"

"And if not," said Gertrude, with a pitying smile, "what then?"

"Why, then I think I should like to live a thousand years, like the man we were fancying the other day. But, perhaps, I might want next to be able to walk, and then to have no more coughing (for I am very tired of coughing sometimes). So I dare say it is best----"

"It is always best to make ourselves as happy as it pleases God to give us power to be, my dear boy; and I think you do this very well for a little lad."

As she stooped to kiss his forehead, Christian whispered that she very often helped to make him happy. "But," said he, "you think my pain will certainly come again?"

Gertrude could not tell. She recommended thinking as little about it as possible. If he thought about God, and what the gospel promises, he would be happy at the time, and best prepared, if his pain should seize him.

"Whenever I think of Jesus Christ, Gertrude, it makes me long to have lived when he lived. If he had cured me, as he cured so many, I would never have denied him, or gone away without thanking him. Do you really believe anybody ever did that?"

Gertrude was afraid it was too true; but suggested some palliations; and hinted that there were ways of testifying faithlessness or discipleship to Jesus even now, when he was present only in his gospel.

His spirit pillowed upon this truth, Christian fell asleep, and dreamed that he met Jesus on a shore, which would have been that of the Zuyder Zee, only that there were mountains; and that Jesus bade him walk, and that he not only walked, but flew up to the very top of the highest mountain, where he met Gertrude, and told her what had happened; and that she sang his favourite hymn; and that, though they seemed alone, many voices came to sing it with her from every side.