I wish that Mr. Bos had been living, that I might have called upon him and seen his pictures, as M. Havard did.  But he is no more, and I found no one to tell me of the fate of his collection.  Possibly it is still to be seen:  certainly other visitors to Harlingen should be more energetic than I was, and make sure.  Here is M. Havard’s account of Mr. Bos and an evening at his house:  “Mr. Bos started in life as a farm-boy—­then became an assistant in a shop.  Instead of spending his money at the beer-houses he purchased books.  He educated himself, and being provident, steady, industrious, he soon collected sufficient capital to start in business on his own account, which he did as a small cheesemonger; but in time his business prospered, and to such an extent that one day he awoke to find himself one of the greatest and richest merchants of Harlingen.

“Many under these circumstances would have considered rest was not undeserved; but Mr. Bos thought otherwise.  He became passionately fond of the arts.  Instead of purchasing stock he bought pictures, then the books necessary to understand them, and what with picking up an engraving here and a painting there he soon became possessed of a most interesting collection, and of an artistic knowledge sufficient for all purposes.  But to appreciate the virtue (the term is not too strong) of this aimable man, one should know the difficulties he had to surmount before gaining his position.  It is no joke when one lives in a town like Harlingen to act differently from other people.  Tongues are as well hung there as in any small French town.  Instead of encouraging this brave collector, they laughed at and ridiculed him.  His taste for the arts was regarded as a mania.  In fact, he was looked upon as a madman, and even to this day, notwithstanding his successful career, he is looked upon as no better than a lunatic.  Happily a taste for art gives one joys that makes the remarks of fools and idiots pass like water off a duck’s back.

“When we called on Mr. Bos he was absent; but as soon as Madame Bos was made acquainted with our names we received a most cordial reception.  She is, however, a most charming woman, combining both amiability and affability, with a venerable appearance; and, notwithstanding her immense fortune and gold plate, still wears the large Frison cap of the good old times.  She was anxious to do the honours of the collection in person, and immediately sent for her son, so that we might receive every information.

“Mr. Bos returned home the same evening, and at once came on board, and would not leave until we had promised to spend the evening at his house, which we did in the Frison fashion—­that is to say, that whilst examining the pictures we were compelled to devour sundry plates of soeskrahelingen, a kind of pastry eaten with cheese; also to empty several bottles of old wine.

“A slight incident that occurred shortly before our departure touched me greatly.  ‘You think, sir,’ said Mr. Bos, ’that because I do not understand French, I have not read the books you have written on our National Arts.  Pray undeceive yourself, for here is a translation of it,’ The old gentleman then placed before me a complete manuscript translation of the work, which he had had made specially for himself.”