containing twenty-four beans, six of silver-gilt, and eighteen of polished silver. When the members of the council were chosen for particular work, these beans were handed round; those who drew the gilt beans entered on their duties, the rest being rejected.
The island of Marken is entirely occupied by fishermen, and is extremely singular, for, owing to the perfectly level soil, and consequent inundations, the people have raised mounds of earth on which to build their seven villages. The houses are of wood, only one story in height, and painted green, blue, or black, with red-tile roofs; some are raised on poles, and look like immense cages suspended in the air. Of the thousand inhabitants only women and children are to be met with on week-days—their intrepid husbands being far out on the Zuider Zee, fishing for plaice or herrings. Habituated from infancy to go through danger and fatigue, they are a fine race of men; content with the perfect equality which prevails over the whole island, and wishing for no luxuries, they become small capitalists. The houses are divided into as many rooms as the family requires, the bedroom being the largest and most adorned. The bed is a box in the wall, difficult to get into, and inclosed by curtains. The sheets and pillows are embroidered in open work, forming a kind of guipure lace peculiar to Marken, and really elegant in design. The walls are covered with blue china, Japanese porcelain, and curiosities: a Friesland cuckoo clock; old brass chandeliers, shining like gold; and the oak cupboard, filled with large glasses and delft ware, complete the picture. Madame Klok, the confectioner of the island, has a splendid collection of china and pictures, as well as six beautifully carved cabinets, equal in style and preservation. These wonderful relics of old Dutch art enjoy a real celebrity, so that the queen of Holland came last year to see them.
As the island is one huge meadow, the grass is made into hay. Twice a year, mowers come from the continent to cut it; they are called "green Germans," with their small helmet-shaped hats and large pipes. Their work ended, they depart, and the young girls turn the hay, and when dry, fill their light barques, then traverse the canals which cross the island in every direction to the port, where it is to be shipped. Nothing is more picturesque than these handsome women in their national costume of red, with large white head-dresses, working in the green fields, their fair hair—for they do not cut it off—fluttering in the breeze. On Sunday, all the boats are in shore; long, brilliantly coloured processions wend their way to church; after which all enjoy the weekly family gathering. Up to midnight, the houses are lighted up, and lanterns flit about; the boats are filling, lovers are parting, wives accompany their husbands, and soon the sea is covered with what resembles a cloud of glow-worms. Quietness settles down, for there is no trade; furniture, dress, beer, and even bread, all come from the mainland.
Though many of the churches were formerly fine examples of Mediæval architecture, the hand of the iconoclast has destroyed much of their beauty; they are now, as a rule, whitewashed, and look cold and bare. That of Wester-Kirk has preserved its marvellous wood-carving in an old pulpit, which was once supported on columns of silver, now exchanged for bronze. The descendants of the Anabaptists or Mennonites still flourish at Harlingen; and though once so violent, are only noted for their mutual and rather exclusive Christian love, as forming one large family. In the church of the Old Catholics at Enkhuizen, the ancient sacerdotal vestments are preserved from the time when the archbishop of Utrecht, their first head, was excommunicated by the pope in 1725.
This is probably the only country where skating races are held. Young and old, rich and poor, enter the arena, which is a long straight canal, and nothing can give an idea of the dizzy rush of the competitors. The prize is always a piece of valuable plate, a trophy which is preserved in the family with great care, for to obtain it the owner must have striven with eighty or a hundred others. When the race is over, every one puts on his or her skates, and crowds cover the canal; here twenty, hand in hand, form a long chain; there an elegant little sledge is pushed by a brother or husband; or the grand carved sledge, gilded and painted with bright colours, is drawn by a fine horse, adorned with red rosettes and bells.
Whether it would be possible, with any practical advantage, to drain the Zuider Zee, and dyke out the ocean, we are unable to say. The Dutch are a most indefatigable and calculating people, and if the thing could be done, or were worth doing, they would do it; thereby adding largely to their available territory. The drainage of the Haarlem sea or lake has, we understand, succeeded commercially. The first time we visited it was in 1838, when we
