large new stained-glass window representing the coronation of Queen
Wilhemina--one of the most satisfying new windows that I know, but
quite lacking in any religious suggestion. That poet who considered
a church the best retreat, because it is good to contemplate God
through stained glass, would have fared badly in Holland.

The New Church is new only by comparison with the Old. It was built
in 1410, rebuilt in 1452 and 1645. Amsterdam's Old Church, on the
other side of Warmoes Straat, dates from 1300. The visitor to the
New Church is handed a brief historical leaflet in exchange for his
twenty-five cents, and is left to his own devices; but the Old Church
has a koster who takes a pride in showing his lions and who deprecates
gifts of money. An elderly, clean-shaved man with a humorous mouth,
he might be taken for Holland's leading comedian. Instead, he displays
ecclesiastical treasures, of which in 1904 there were fewer than usual,
two of the three fine old windows representing the life of the Virgin
being under repair behind a screen. The tombs and monuments are not
interesting--admirals of the second rank and such small fry.

It is in the Old Church that most of the weddings of Amsterdam are
celebrated. Thursday is the day, for then the fees are practically
nothing; on other days to be married is an expense. The koster
deplores the modern materialism which leads so many young men to be
satisfied with the civil function; but the little enclosure, like a
small arena, in which the church blesses unions, had to me a hardly
less business-like appearance than a registry office. The comedian
overflows with details. For the covering of the floor, he explains,
there are five distinct carpets, ranging in price from five guelders
to twenty-five for the hire, according to the means or ostentation
of the party. Thursdays are no holiday for the church officials, one