VILLAGE OF OVERCHIE. 91 exciting any apprehension. In this town the prospect of a late dinner induced me to taste its gingerbread, for which Holland is very justly celebrated. Before every cottage, brass kettles and pans just cleaned were placed upon stools in the open air, or were polishing under the hands of their indefatigable owners; and even certain utensils shone with such resplendent brightness in the sun, that the wellknown saying which the French whimsically apply to the grave and thoughtful, Il est serieux comme un pot de chambre, would lose the fidelity of its resemblance here. We were passed by several curricles, a very common carriage in this part of Holland, the horses in rope harness, going to and from Rotterdam. In the roof of the boat were some ladies and gentlemen, who, as well as I could discern through the smoke, seemed pleased to see me so with their country. The land all the way on each side was rich pasture. On our left, a short distance from Delft, we passed a cannon foundery, and on our right some potteries, where the Delft china, formerly much prized all over Europe, and which Vandevelt and other eminent artists embellished with their pencils, used to be manufactured in great abundance. These potteries, since last war, have greatly declined, to the severe injury of the adjoining town. The principal cause of the decay of these potteries has been the vast quantities of porcelain which, for more than a century and a half, have been imported from China into Europe, and the great improvement of that beautiful manufacture in England and Germany. Some years since the earthen-ware of Staffordshire was so much admired in Holland, that to protect the manufacture of Delft from utter ruin, the States General imposed a duty upon its importation into the republic, that nearly amounted to a prohibition. Hence the name of an Englishman is not very popular in Delft. I tasted some excellent beer in this town, which is celebrated for its beer breweries, and produces an admirable imitation of London bottled porter. The town is very ancient and picturesque; at the place where we disembarked, were several treckschuyts moored under an old castellated gateway, from which, preceded by a commissary or licenced porter, who attends the moment the boat arrives, with his wheelbarrow, to convey the luggage of the passengers, we entered Delft, the capital of Delftland, in the province of Holland, and proceeded to a very comfortable inn, which furnished some good cutlets, and a bottle of claret. Before the hotel all was bustle, from the number of carriages filled with genteel people proceeding to, and returning from the Hague, to and from which boats are passing every half hour. Here, as in every inn in Holland, however humble, the guest has always the comfort of a silver fork placed by his side, and a tablecloth of snowy whiteness: in the room where I dined was a glass china cupboard, and every article within it bore shining testimony to its having received a due proportion of diurnal care. Delft is a large but gloomy town, and as silent as a monastery, except in the street immediately leading to the Hague; upon quitting which, no sound was to be heard but that of mops and buckets: narrow, green, stagnant canals divide most of the streets, which are generally, for some little distance before the houses, paved with black and white marble: However, the principal part of the town is handsome, having two spacious streets, with broad canals bordered with trees. The navigation is interrupted from the Rotterdam entrance to that of the Hague, so that the water within it, presents no animating object. In this town turf is principally burnt. Although the taciturnity of the place would induce a stranger to think its population small, it reckons 13,000 inhabitants, 6;000 of whom, since the war, have been reduced to the class of paupers. I met with two or three inhabitants who spoke good English, and expressed in |