rary novelties from street to street, as customers are supplied, and is never guilty of neglecting opportunities.

The professor of metaphysics, in dissecting his mental structure, will find new veins of thought, scattered like trellis-work over its surface, compensating for their lack of depth, in the infinitude of their variety. Among other prominent characteristics, the organ of antipathy will be found in him more extensively developed than is consistent with a perfect mental organization.

The canons of fashion, the laws of dress, and the dictates of cleanliness, he especially eschews; averring that they are begot by pride from effeminacy, and totally unworthy the regard of a lad of spirit. Sobriety of demeanor he classes with hypocrisy, and denominates reflection the child of stupidity. Thought is in him the parent of action, and his imagination conceives no paradise, in which motion is not the main element.

Indolence and misery are synonymous in his lexicon, and his conceptions can embody no greater evil than the suspension of his locomotive powers. Being blest with a large share of assurance, he holds no communion with modesty. He confounds hesitation with unworthiness, and deems a strict regard to truth a sure evidence of a lack of invention. A decided utilitarian, with him the question 'cui bono?' in its practical application, is a test for every theory in science, morals, and political economy. The romance of the heart, with its alternate tears and sunshine, he attributes to mental hallucination, and denies the existence of any ill which is unallied to bodily suffering. For the devices of heraldry, with their accompanying honors, he entertains no respect. Himself a creation of the hour, he owns no ancestry, and would conceive himself insulted by an allusion to the dignities conferred by noble lineage.

With him the past and the future are equally invisible. He plumes his wing for the sunny regions of the present, and looks not beyond its charmed boundary. His sheet is indeed an epitome of the hour; a picture to be glanced at and forgotten; a moving diorama, ever exhibiting new features; a vision, like the dawn of morning, pleasant but evanescent.

The news-man occupies a midway station between the ancient system and the new, infusing into the former a portion of the moving energy of the latter, and so mingling the elements of official character as not to be distanced in the march of improvement. If he lag somewhat behind the intelligence of the age, and the news-boy be found sporting in advance, the eccentric and desultory wanderings of the latter from the main track, frequently bring him to the side of his steady-minded senior. Whether the penny press has created greater evils than it has eradicated, is a mooted question; and as a consequence, the utility of the news-boy has been zealously denied, on the one hand, and as earnestly asserted on the other. But all this the news-boy heeds not. Feeling the vital principle strong within him, he trusts to the necessity which created him, to carry him through triumphantly; and with the world before him, falls back on his genius and aptitude, and they never fail to sustain him. But a short period has elapsed, since a portion of the conductors of the penny press attempted, like Mahmoud the Mighty, in the case of the Jannizaries,

to annihilate the whole tribe of news-boys at a blow; but the effort met with signal discomfiture. The experiment taught the editors that the news-boy is a constituent part of the system; an important ingredient entering into its essence and vitality, and indispensable to its existence.

Like a practical philosopher the news-boy takes the world as it goes, never repining at the rise or fall of stocks, the prevalence of storm or sunshine, or the abundance or scarcity of supplies. Good news or ill are equally acceptable, as both increase the demand for his sheet.

The news-boy is a politician, but no partisan. Holding doctrines sufficiently radical to border on the revolutionary, he pronounces the leaders of both parties little better than public marauders, whose marches and countermarches are guided by a single regard to their personal interests. His love for the people is not manifested by sickly adulation. Like a candid friend, he admits that the dear rogues are great rascals, but avers that he and his editor were especially born to reform them. Having no confidence in the virtue, or integrity, or punctuality of his patrons, like a modern politician, he demands the quid pro quo' at sight!

It is but just to admit, that in the boldness of his innovations, the news-boy at times exhibits a disregard of the moralities, and a contempt for the humanities, of his species. Independent of the habit of exaggeration, which may be termed an element of his trade, he has been known to retain funds placed in his hands by credulous patrons, wherewith to procure change, and when casually confronted by the presence of his exasperated creditor, met him with a smile, facetiously remarking, that like the banks he had been obliged to 'suspend. His assaults upon his weaker brethren of the craft are at all times severe and unprovoked; but it is fair to suppose that a laudable desire to retain his ascendancy, causes this apparent deviation from the path of good-feeling. The news-boy is a portion of the drama, and an oracle of the amphitheatres. He prideth himself on being enabled to recognize the stars and lesser lights which twinkle in the Thespian galaxy, and with a patronizing air will inform you that 'there goes Tom Hamblin,' or 'yonder comes Ned Forrest.' For the benighted countryman, who is ignorant of the sayings and doings of the great metropolis, he expresses profound sympathy. In his opinion the man who has yet to learn the meaning of Jim-alongJosey,' All round my Hat,' 'Sich a Gittin' up Stairs,' 'Jump Jim Crow,' and phrases of the like elegance and point, is little better than a heathen, who could not have been reared in a civilized quarter. His perfect acquaintance with the thoroughfares and prominent places of resort in the great metropolis, has inculcated in him the belief that no one but an idiot can be ignorant of their localities; and on a stranger's inquiring of one of the tribe the direction to the Astor House, that interesting personage placed his thumb against his pug-nose, fanned the air with his extended fingers, and informed the querist that ' he could n't come that gag over this child, no way he could fix it!' In awarding to the news-boy the palm of superior activity and shrewdness, when compared with his senior, it is but just to admit that their relative positions exercise no little influence in producing

such a result.

The official station of the news-man is that of a mere messenger, a bearer of despatches, while the news-boy holds the rank of minister plenipotentiary. The duty of the first is specified and clearly defined: the latter is thrown upon his mental resources, and success is the result of their judicious application.

As may be inferred from his official cognomen, the news-boy, in the ordinary course of events, must at length outgrow his profession, and enter on a new state of being. Appearing on the stage of action at the height of three-feet-six, his exit may be dated from the period at which he reaches four-feet-three. From thence his history is a blank. In fact he is the news-boy no longer. The body may remain, but the soul, the spirit has departed. Like the bottle of champagne uncorked at the last night's revel, the sparkle has evaporated, leaving dregs, 'stale, flat and unprofitable.'

While contemplating the rapid course of time, bearing onward to oblivion the monuments of pride, folly, and mediocrity, it is pleasant to indulge in a dream of immortality. Such a vision, dear reader, it is our happiness to descry in the vista. Whatever imperfections may be discerned in the present sketch, our humble name shall be inscribed on the lofty pedestal which after ages shall erect to the fame of the news-boy; and when posterity pays a willing tribute to his achievements, his early historian will not be forgotten!

A GENTLEMAN of Switzerland, having observed a talent in his son for painting, sent him early to a renowned artist in Italy, where he remained many years, and then returned, accompanied by his master. On being asked if he did not prefer Italy to the land of his birth, he replied as follows:

I WENT, this morning early, with my master,
Upon the neighboring cliffs. Night's sable veil
Was yet but slightly lifted from the landscape:
Though the proud head of one stupendous glacier
Did soon begin, in this broad sea of night,
Like a far light-house cupola, to glisten!
'What, what is that!' cried I; 'have they then, here,
As in our clime, earth's grim, fire-belching craters ?
Hath our Vesuve a giant brother here ?'

My master thus, in tremulous voice, replied:
"That is the peak of the great Alps-queen, Jungfrau,
Who, every morn, before her neighbors wake,
Dresses her lofty head with solar fire-flowers."
And lo! while we did gaze, the snow-cap'd peaks
Of other mountains straight begin to sparkle;
And soon each Alpine spire stood glowing there,
Resplendent in the dark blue vault of heaven!
To me it seemed, that now was to be held
High matin mass beneath this dome of God!
That the sacrists had hastened to the altar
To light these lofty, consecrated cressets:
Devoutly then I downward sank in prayer.

Ah! now I well could feel and understand
The Switzer's passion for his father-land!

NOTES ON THE NETHERLANDS.

BY CALEB CUSHING.

THE HAGUE: VOORBURG: THE RHY NLAND.

No city in Europe is more celebrated for the general magnificence of its buildings, or the beauty of its promenades and streets, than the Hague. Having been the ancient residence of the old courts of Holland, afterward of the States General of the United Provinces, during the long period of their prosperity and power, and more recently the seat of the new government alternately with Brussels, it has at all times continued to receive those decorations proper to the residence of a court, and the place of resort of the most elevated and select society. While the purposes of the government itself have rendered a large number of public buildings necessary, other cities of Holland, and indeed several foreign nations, have contributed to beautify it by the construction of hotels for the residence of their representatives at a court, where the great interests of Europe so frequently centered. Of course a general spirit of cultivation and refinement, as well in manners as in all other respects, is a distinguishing trait of the Hague. The style of building, the dress and appearance of the inhabitants, the various decorations of the city, are more European than elsewhere in Holland; that is, have more of those peculiarities of taste, which, being characteristic of the upper classes, are substantially the same all over Europe. At the same time, in its canals, in its gardens and walks, and in the people who supply the daily market, you see enough of what is purely Dutch, to satisfy you in what country you are travelling.

What the Dutch particularly prize and admire, at the Hague, is the beauty of its public walks and its places, or squares, as, for want of a better name, they are called in English, and its noble groves and avenues of trees. Indeed, on whatever side you enter the city, you are partly prepared for this feature of it, by the broad and regular avenues of majestic trees by which it is approached: but the reality far exceeds the expectations which you will have formed; for nothing can exceed the rich verdure of the Vyverberg and the Voorhout. The Vyverberg is an extensive oblong square, planted with noble trees, and having a beautiful promenade which overlooks a large sheet of water, faced with stone, and having a wooded island in its centre, and beyond it, a pile of buildings connected with the old palace. The Voorhout is a magnificent street, bordered by rich buildings, with its rows of trees, conducting to the Wood, as it is called, of which I shall speak hereafter. The parade, and the park, with its herd of deer peacefully feeding under the trees, follow in the same direction. The Boschkant also deserves to be mentioned in connexion with the rest, it being a broad street, bordering on the Wood, as its name imports, and presenting similar features of blended rural beauty and city magnificence. Indeed, all this part of the Hague has the appearance of a vast garden.

VOL. XV.

19

Of the great edifices of the Hague, the Old Palace is the most ancient, and in other respects the most remarkable. It is a huge pile of buildings, of different ages and styles, put together without much system, yet not unpleasing in its effect. Part of it was the court of the counts of Holland, in the days of their glory. It is a sort of fortress, surrounded by water, to which you enter by three bridges and as many gates. In the central building is a large and lofty apartment, of great height, reminding one of Westminster Hall, in its general character, although not in its details. It was used, when I saw it, for drawing the prizes of the public lottery, and for the bills of the deferred national debt, which were placed in a colossal wheel, of a bold and striking construction. The other buildings contain extensive apartments, of various kinds. Some were occupied by the old States General; others by the Stadhouder; others, more recently built, by the National Assembly and by Louis Napoleon.

The new palace is the residence of the present king of the Netherlands. It was formerly used as the abode of several princes of the house of Orange, but has been greatly altered and improved, to adapt it to its present destination. It consists of a central building of brick, with two wings projecting in front, and with a superb garden in the rear; and although not preeminently beautful as a royal palace, is yet convenient, and not open to particular exception. The king's family being at Brussels, I was enabled to see all the apartments, under the guidance of the house-keeper, who spoke good English. It seems, at first blush, somewhat singular that the private dwelling of a prince should be thrown open to every curious gazer; but a moment's reflection reconciles one to the usage; because the arrangements of the palace are all designed for ostentation, and while the exhibition of it occasions no inconvenience to the occupant, it serves to raise the ideas entertained of him by his subjects and by strangers. To describe minutely the interior of the palace, would be to give details of the color of hangings, and the materials of which the furniture was composed, partaking too much of the style of an upholsterer's inventory of goods and chattels. A few general remarks on the subject will suffice.

I was most agreeably impressed, in the first place, with the good taste which appeared to have presided over all the decorations and furnishing of this royal residence. Every thing in it united elegance with commodiousness, in a remarkable degree, all the comforts of refined life being collected, and it was throughout worthy of a monarch, yet without running into the senseless luxury and prodigality of expense displayed at Versailles by Louis XIV. Chairs and couches of figured satin, carpets of the best Brussels fabrics, hangings of silk, velvet, or gobelin tapestry, mantel ornaments, and clocks in the exquisite style of Parisian workmanship, portraits and other pictures, as usual, such were the contents of the various apartments. Pictures of the royal family abound, comme de raison, and busts of the family and those with whom they are now connected by marriage. Among the rest were fine portraits of two of her children, said to have been painted by the queen herself, and if so, highly creditable to her taste and education. Some few superior paintings, of a miscellaneous kind, are shown here, but they are not numerous, nor does the palace possess many of those master-pieces of art which distin