ated and defiled. In the
same square Adelaide de Poelgeest, the mistress of Albert, Count of
Holland, was stabbed on the 22d of September in the year 1392, and the
stone on which she expired is still shown.

These sad memories and those heavy low doors, that irregular group of
dark buildings, which at night, when the moon lights up the stagnant
pool, have the appearance of an enormous inaccessible castle standing
in the midst of the joyous and cultured city,--arouse a feeling of
awful sadness. At night the courtyard is lighted only by an occasional
lamp; the few people who pass through it quicken their pace as if
they are afraid. There is no sound of steps to be heard, no lighted
windows to be seen; one enters it with a vague restlessness, and
leaves it almost with pleasure.

With the exception of the Binnenhof, the Hague has no important
monuments ancient or modern. There are several mediocre statues of the
Princes of Orange, a vast, naked cathedral, and a royal palace of
modest proportions. On many of the public buildings storks are carved,
the stork being the heraldic animal of the city. Many of these birds
walk about freely in the fish-market--they are kept at the expense of
the municipality, like the bears of Berne and the eagles of Geneva.

The greatest ornament of the Hague is its forest, which is one of the
wonders of Holland and one of the most magnificent parks in the world.

It is composed of alders, oaks, and the largest beech trees to be
found in Europe. It is more than a French league in circumference, and
is situated to the east of the city, only a few steps from the last
houses. It is a really delightful oasis in the midst of the depressing
Dutch plains. When one has entered the wood and passed beyond the
fringe of pavilions, little Swiss cottages, and summer houses dotted
about among the first trees, one seems to have lost one's self in a
lonely interminable forest. The trees are as thick as a canebrake, the
avenues are lost in the dusk; there are lakes and canals almost
hidden by the verdure of the banks; rustic bridges, the crossways of
unfrequented bridle-paths, shady recesses; and over all a cool,
refreshing shade in which one seems to breathe the air of virginal
nature and to be far removed from the turmoil of the world.

They say that this wood, like that of the town of Haarlem, is the
remnant of an immense forest which in olden times covered almost the
whole of the coast of Holland, and the