marbles) so neatly kept, that I assure you, I walked almost all over the town yesterday, incognito, in my slippers, without receiving one spot of dirt; and you may see the Dutch maids washing the pavement of the street with more application than ours do our bed= chambers. The town seems so full of people, with such busy faces, all in motion, that I can hardly fancy it is not some celebrated fair; but I see it is every day the same. 'Tis certain no town can be more advantageously situated for commerce. Here are seven large canals, on which the merchant ships come up to the very doors of their houses. The shops and warehouses are of a surprizing neatness and magnificence, filled with an incredible quantity of fine merchandize, and so much cheaper than what we see in England, that I have much ado to persuade myself I am still so near it. Here is neither dirt nor beggary to be seen. One is not shocked with those loathsome cripples, so common in London, nor teized with the importunity of idle fellows and wenches, that chuse to be nasty and lazy. The common servants and little shop-women, here, are more nicely clean than most of our ladies; and the great variety of neat dresses (every woman dressing her head after her own fashion) is an additional pleasure in seeing the town. You see, hitherto, I make no complaint, dear sister, and if I continue to like travelling as well as I do at present, I shall not repent my project. It will go a great way in making me satisfied with it, if it affords me an opportunity of entertaining you. But it is not from Holland, that you must expect a disinterested offer. I can write enough in the stile of Rotterdam, to tell you plainly, in one word, that I expect returns of all the London news. You see I have already learnt to make a good bargain, and that it is not for nothing I will so much as tell you, I am your affectionate sister.

LETTER II.

To Mrs. S

Hague, Aug. 5, O. S. 1716.

I MAKE haste to tell you, dear madam, that after all

the dreadful fatigues you threatened me with, I am hitherto very well pleased with my journey. We take care to make such short stages every day, that I rather fancy myself upon parties of pleasure, than upon the road; and sure nothing can be more agreeable than travelling in Holland. The whole country appears a large garden; the roads are well paved, shaded on each side with rows of trees, and bordered with large canals, full of boats passing and repassing. Every twenty paces gives you the prospect of some villa, and every four. hours, that of a large town, so surprizingly neat, I am sure you would be charmed with them. The place I am now at, is certainly one of the finest villages in the world. Here are several squares finely built, and (what I think a particular beauty) the whole set with thick large trees. The Voor-hout is, at the same time, the Hyde Park and Mall of the people of quality; for they take the air in it both on foot and in coaches. There are shops for wafers, cool liquors, etc. I have been to see several of the most celebrated gardens, but I will not teize you with their descriptions. I dare swear you think my letter already long enough. But I must not conclude without begging your pardon, for not obeying your commands, in sending the lace you ordered me. Upon my word, I can yet find none that is not dearer than you may buy it in London. If you want

any India goods, here are great variety of penny-worths, and I shall follow your orders with great pleasure and exactness, being,

Dear madam, etc. etc.

LETTER III. $

To Mrs. S. C.

Nimeguen, Aug. 13, O. S. 1716.

I AM extremely sorry, my dear S. that your fears of

disobliging your relations, and their fears for your health and safety, have hindered me from enjoying the happiness of your company, and you the pleasure of a diverting journey. I receive some degree of mortifi= cation from every agreeable novelty, or pleasing pro spect, by the reflection of your having so unluckily missed the delight which I know it would have given you. If you were with me in this town, you would be ready to expect to receive visits from your Nottingham friends. No two places were ever more resembling; one has but to give the Maese the name of the Trent, and there is no distinguishing the prospect. The houses, like those of Nottingham, are built one above another, and are intermixed, in the same manner, with trees and gardens. The tower, they call Julius Cesar's, has the same situation with Nottingham castle; and I cannot help fancying I see from it the Trent-field, Adboulton, places so well known to us. 'Tis true, the fortifications make a considerable difference. All the learned in the art of war bestow great commendations on them; for my part, that know nothing of the mat= ter. I shall content myself with telling you, 'tis a very

pretty walk on the ramparts, on which there is a tower, very deservedly called the Belvidera, where people go to drink coffee, tea, etc. and enjoy one of the finest prospects in the world. The publick walks have no great beauty, but the thick shade of the trees, which is solemnly delightful. But I must not forget to take notice of the bridge, which appeared very surprising to me. It is large enough to hold hundreds of men, with horses and carriages. They give the value of an English two-pence to get upon it, and then away they go, bridge and all, to the other side of the river, with so slow a motion, one is hardly sensible of any at all. I was yes= terday at the French church, and stared very much at their manner of service. The parson clapped on a broad: brimmed hat in the first place, which gave him entirely the air of, what d'ye call him, in Bartholomew fair, which he kept up by extraordinary antick gestures, and preaching much such stuff, as t'other talked to the puppets. However, the congregation seemed to re= ceive it with great devotion; and I was informed by some of his flock, that he is a person of particular fame amongst them. I believe, by this time, you are as much tired with my account of him, as I was with his sermon; but I am sure your brother will excuse a di= gression in favour of the church of England. You know, speaking disrespectfully of the Calvinists, is the same thing as speaking honourably of the church. Adieu, my dear S. always remember me, and be ass sured I can never forget you, etc. etc.

Cologn, Aug. 16, O. S. 1716.

Ip my lady
could have any notions of the fa=
tigues that I have suffered these two last days, I am sure
she would own it a great proof of regard, that I now
sit down to write to her. We hired horses from Nime
guen hither, not having the conveniency of the post,
and found but very indifferent accommodations at
Reinberg, our first stage; but it was nothing to what
I suffered yesterday. We were in hopes to reach Cologn;
our horses tired at Stamel, three hours from it, where
I was forced to pass the night in my clothes, in a room
not at all better than a hovel; for though I have my
bed with me, I had no mind to undress, where the wind
came from a thousand places. We left this wretched
lodging at day-break, and about six this morning came
safe here, where I got immediately into bed. I slept so
well for three hours, that I found myself perfectly res
covered, and have had spirits enough to go and see all
that is curious in the town, that is to say, the churches,
for here is nothing else worth seeing. This is a very
large town, but the most part of it is old built. The
jesuits' church, which is the neatest, was shewed me,
in a very complaisant manner, by a handsome young
jesuit, who, not knowing who I was, took a liberty in
his compliments and railleries, which very much di-
verted me. Having never before seen any thing of that
nature, I could not enough admire the magnificence of
the altars, the rich images of the saints, (all massy