During all this time, when skating was struggling into notice in Britain, in its birth-place it continued to be cultivated as the one great winter amusement. In Holland, too, where it is looked upon less as a pastime than a necessity, nothing has so frequently struck travelers as the wonderful change the advent of ice brings about on the bearing of the inhabitants. “Heavy, massive, stiff creatures during the rest of the year,” says Pilati, in his “Letters on Holland,” “become suddenly active, ready and agile, as soon as the canals are frozen,” and they are able to glide along the frozen surface with the speed and endurance for which their skating has been so long renowned, though these very qualities are bought at the expense of the elegance and grace we nowadays look for in the accomplished skater. Thomson thus graphically describes the enlivening effects of frost on the Dutch: Now in the Netherlands, and where the Rhine Branched out in many a long canal, extends, From every province swarming, void of care, Batavia rushes forth; and as they sweep, On sounding skates, a thousand different ways In circling poise, swift as the winds along, The then gay land is maddened all to joy. Nor less the northern courts, wide o’er the snow, Pour a new pomp. Eager on rapid sleds, Their vigorous youth in bold contention wheel The long resounding course. Meantime to raise The manly strife, with highly-blooming charms Flushed by the season, Scandinavia’s dames Or Russia’s buxom daughters glow around. Though the poet of the “Seasons” speaks of Russia here, it is curious to note that skating is not a national amusement of the Russians, but is entirely of foreign and quite recent introduction. It is quite unknown in the interior, and no Russian—except a few who have picked up the art in St. Petersburg—ever thinks of availing himself of the many pieces of water annually frozen hard in so cold a country. Perhaps it is in Friesland that the skate is most especially a necessary of life. What stilts are to the peasant of the Landes, skates are to the Frisian. The watercourses of the summer are his highways when winter sets in. “He goes to market on skates; he goes to church on skates,” we are told; “he goes love-making on skates.” Indeed, it may be doubted if this province could be inhabited if the art of skating were unknown, for without it the inhabitants would be confined to home for several months of each year. Frisians of both sexes actually skate more than they walk, says M. Depping; no sooner is an infant able to stand upright than the irons are fastened on his feet; his parents lead him on to the ice, and teach him how to move along. At six years most of the young skaters have attained great proficiency, but in Frisian opinion even the best performers improve up to thirty.