expression of meekness; a long sword was directed by an invisible hand towards her heart; the whole being an enfiguration, is there such a word? of the text, "The sword shall pierce through thy own soul also." In truth, it was very culous. The specimens here of oak carving are truly splendid. The stalls, the confessionals, the pulpits, are wrought in a manner most rich and beautiful. We have heard that birds have built in the deep cut foliage of some of our own Minsters, and verily we doubt it not, since we have seen the excessive relief of these wooden sculptures. There is not much in these churches which requires any very particular notice. Having seen one, we know all. The inducements to visit other churches in general are, their being possessed of some master pieces of the old painters, or of sculpture; to see which, is well worth a little additional walking, even with the thermometer at 80°. In pursuance of this laudable desire, we endured a heat some degrees above that point, and tramped through the dusty streets to the church of St. Paul. Here is a good painting of "The Scourging," by Rubens, which amply repaid our trouble; some quaint paintings, by Teniers, of the " Acts of Charity," are also worthy of a slight look; but the grand boast of this church, in the eyes of the devout Roman Catholic, is the model of the Holy Sepulchre. The monks have it that two of their order, by name Grundisalvus and Jordanus, did some few centuries ago, undertake a journey to Jerusalem, whence they brought the model by which this sepulchre is built. The beholders look through a small grating at the body, lying on a bier; having viewed this, they are then turned into "Purgatory," where, in a grotto of stone and spar, they are surrounded with flames, cut in wood, with figures and heads distorted with pain, of the same material, stretching forth their hands to the beholders, and seeming to beseech their prayers. All this, to us, was tinctured with the ridiculous, and even with a feeling of a deeper nature; but to a devout, i. e. a bigoted and superstitious papist, this must be a scene of the most intense and painful interest. No doubt the holy friars find their account in the alms-box at the door of this purgatory, which bears an inscription, purporting that all the money there deposited is spent in saying masses for the donors. In a sort of garden leading to the sepulchre, are a collection of busts and statues-apostles, including St. Peter's cock, on a high wall,-saints innumerable,-prophets, angels, martyrs, and all such as may, from their sanctity, be placed outside the purgatorial cave. We reentered the church, to take a last look at the Rubens, and roused a brace of immensely fat monks, employed inwhat, think you, Anthony? Dressing a saint for the festival of the Ascension, which was to take place in a day or two. They had a stuffed or carved modern figure, the arms being detached pieces, for the convenience of putting on the robes. Two underlings were at work; one painting and rouging the face to a fine healthy red, the other varnishing the legs with a paint rivalling Warren's Blacking in brilliancy. The upper legs were clothed in tight net-work inexpressibles, and the table was heaped with sumptuous robes.We at first strove to smother a laugh, but one of the monks caught our eyes, and set off himself in a roar of laughter, setting a good example to us heretics, who had, however, gravity and decency enough to postpone our mirth until our return to the hotel, when we did enjoy ourselves, at the expense of these wor thy friars. What would we not have given for the pencil of a Lover, when a huge fat fellow, about ten feet in girth, held up a lace robe, inspecting some holes with care, which seemed to have been cut by some sacrilegious moth-the fat dumpy hands held above the head, the skirt of the robe lying on his ample belly-the red, round, rosy face, horror-struck at the devastation committed on the garment-all combined to make a picture which even roused the mirthful feelings of his reverend brother, who lay back in his chair, his right leg thrown over its fellow, shaking his enormous sides, and the tears of fun chasing each other over his crimson cheeks, where, one wondered, they did not hiss and go off in steam. We now adjourned to the Cathedral, famous throughout Europe for being the resting-place of the picture of pictures, Rubens's “Deposition from the Cross." We will say no fine sentences, Anthony, of this painting. We are no artists, nor do we understand the set phrases-but one word, intelligible to all, will we indite MAGNIFICENT. With this must your readers be satisfied; if not, they must see it themselves, and then try to write a description. On the opposite side of the choir gate is the corresponding painting of the "Elevation of the Cross;" much admired by some, though to our ignorant eyes, the grouping seemed confused. On the back of the grand altar was a beautiful imitation of marble bas-relief, by Van Bréé, of whom we have already spoken; and in one of the chapels a gem of a St. Francis, by Murillo, which pleased us more than almost any single figure we had seen. The grand altar-piece is an Ascension of the Blessed Virgin, by Rubens, containing portraits of his family, and is said to have been painted in 13 days Another exquisite little thing is a Madonna and Child, by Otto Venius; the heads only, which are the perfection of finish and loveliness. We should only tire you with long catalogues of paintings, did we tell you all that we saw. We must get on.Having dined, we set out for the ascent of the spire of the cathedral, said to be one of the highest in Europe. At the various leads, we stepped out on the galleries, and obtained views of different extents. We stopped in the belfry for some time, listening to the carrillons, which were uncommonly sweet, although rather close to us. One room in the tower held many of the projecting points and pinnacles of the architecture, which had, as our guide said, been knocked off by the balls from the citadel, when Chassé bombarded the city in 1830. If this be true, it tells much against the honour of the old man. To injure this noble pile, could effect no good to himself or his cause; and from the great elevation of the injured part above the city, it would seem that no stray ball could have done this mischief, but that they were aimed expressly for the cathedral. We hope, for the honour of the old Dutchman, that this is not the case; but we had no opportunity of ascertaining the facts. That the Antwerpians did evidently calculate on the chances of a bombardment is very plain, for the cellars of the houses were made splinter-proof, and the two pictures in the cathedral taken down and heaped over with sacks and hides, so as to make them almost bomb-proof. The air was so clear, that we could plainly distinguish the rig of a Dutch line-ofbattle ship, lying at Flushing; a distance, as we were informed, of thirtysix miles in a straight line. We could plainly see that she had her jib up. The views of the inundations were very grand; immediately under us was the flooded land, behind the Tete de Flandres, with Forts Napoleon, Marie Louise, and Isabella, like islands in the midst. The gap in the dyke was a most busy scene; above 120 boats were employed all day in carrying clay to the sides, which at low water was hurled into the gap in immense quantities. As this could be best done at low water, the men were often obliged to work by torch-light, which must have been really picturesque. The estimate for this repair, we were told, was 600,000 francs. Far away to the right of the river was another inundation, which melting into the mist coming from the ocean, seemed to be interminable. In the opposite direction the view was rich in the extreme. Mechlin, or Malines, was plainly visible, although twelve miles from us; and had not some rising ground intervened, we could have seen Brussels. Before descending, we had a curious example of the different speeds with which light and sound travel. A large body of troops were crossing the Place de Mer, accompanied by their drums. We could plainly hear the beat of the latter, but the men seemed to walk quite out of time to the music. The eye caught the step much sooner than the sound could reach the ear. Home to bed, and sound asleep. The Place de Mer is the marketplace of Antwerp, and the sight in the morning is picturesque and interesting. The peasants flock in from the neighbouring country in the neat dress of their province. Some driving teams of dogs harnessed to carts; some already at their stands, sorting out the piles of vegetables and fruit in conical baskets; others moistening and refreshing their verdant heaps with water poured from tall Dutch-bellied brass jars, glancing merrily in the sun, while stands of various coloured petty merchandise are scattered with the more edible productions of the country. A huge waggon now and then winding through this busy street, piled high shade from the broiling sun. The city itself was pleasing, being built on a hill, and beautifully wooded round the skirts. A superb palace, situated most beautifully on the right of the road, is an object worthy much attention: we found, however, to our grief that no admittance could be had; it is called Schomberg, and was the residence of Napoleon and his brother, and since favoured with the presence of the Orange family-at present it of course is in the hands of the worthy King of the Belgians. We will not say, “Long may he enjoy it." As we tramped up the steep hill in the town, and arrived on the brow, we stood still in admiration of the splendid buildings before with fodder for the horses, finishes the fight, and that they are foolish enough scene which altogether had so much of to keep up their ill-humoured jealousy variety and interest as to detain us to this day. We know not how this long at our windows, whence we could may be, and we care not.-Near Brusoverlook the whole. At twelve pre- sels, we received refreshment to our cisely we mounted the diligence for weary eyes, in a few low hills, rising Brussels, and proceeded on our tour, just high enough on either hand, to leaving, with regret, this famous city render it not an absolute falsehood, to in which we had found very much to say that the road runs through a val interest and amuse us. ley-the whole way for miles was lined The road to Brussels is unvarying with superb elms, affording a grateful just such as to make one rouse up from their corner every now and then to see that nothing remarkable should be passed by, and then relapse into one's book, or conversation, or sleep. We had a hearty laugh at a piece of Belgianism, which we observed in a trim well laid out garden on the road side. You of course know that in the northern parts of the Netherlands there is scarce such a thing as a hill, not to speak of a mountain. The acmé of perfection, therefore, in landscape gardening is, to make a hill which varies from ten to fifty feet in height. What excited our mirth in this case was, a mound, about the size of a small dunghill, carefully put in a gap in the trees, in order to be seen from the road, and be the cause of much breaking of the tenth commandment to the beholders thereof. This huge hillock or mole of earth was about twelve feet high, and sloped away gradually on both sides, up one of which a toilsome gravel walk, of some thirty yards, was directed, and down the opposite; the hill itself was covered with a velvet turf which did indeed create a little envy in our bosoms. We afterwards saw several such mounds, but use deprived them of their mirthful tendency, and we looked on them as gravely as though a Snowdon itself were before us. Our first stage was Mechlin, well fortified, and affording a pleasing termination to a vista of trees, in its fine cathedral tower, as yet unfinishedwe may safely say, never to be completed. There is some vulgar legend that, the moon shining on this tower one night, roused up the worthy burghermasters, who vowed that some wretch had fired the cathedral, and summoned all to assist in the suppression of the flames; further, that on finding their mistake, they were so much ashamed, that to mention the circumstance, was a good pretext for a us. This was the Place Royale, and well worthy of its name it is; in front was the noble portico of the Church of St. James, or the Coudenberg, and all around, superb buildings of white stone, yet strange, almost all these palaces are now hotels. The Hotels de Flandres, where we set up our staff, De Belle Vue, L'Amitie, De l'Europe, &c. &c., are here congre gated, and in any of them the travel ler is sure of good treatment, civility, and comfort. The Hotel de Flandres is particularly neat and pleasant, although there is not such a resort of people as at some of the other, at L'Europe, there were above 120 persons each day at dinner, too many to be comfortable. All these buildings bore marks of the conflict in the revolution, the walls, freizes, and cornices, shattered with the bullets, and the quoins very much injured, all these marks bore testimony to the truth of an observation we had often heard "that in a hurry, troops fire too high." The majority of the bullet holes were in the story over the drawing-roomsnot a few were in the attics.-The soldiery in these encounters hurried in their manoeuvres, and indeed often fought in their retreats, and were the consequence was, that their repeated vollies had but little effect; the trees in the park told the same tale their upper boughs and parts of the stem, twelve feet from the ground, were pierced and riddled with musquetshots, while the lower parts were but little injured. Being too late for the table d'hote, we, with another English gentleman, partook of a hasty dinner, and then gladly adjourned to the park, where the shades promised some relief from the glare of the white buildings; here all the fashion seemed to be collected, but not much beauty-despite French millinery, the ladies did not appear in general even pretty. We slowly walked round this park, looking at the various splendid buildings: at one side, was the royal palace; the front would be very fine were it not that a row of noble pillars, forming the portico, is raised on an arcade of low arches, which constitute the various entrances to the interior. As Leopold was expected hourly to return from his tour, we were refused admittance; a little further on is the palace of the Prince of Orange, as it was called in the late reign, but which is now for sale, some time being granted to the Prince to find a purchaser, on condition, as we understood, of its being dismantled ; on the side of the park facing the royal residence is the palace of the States General, with the two Chambers, in which the debates are held; the fourth side is formed by a handsome row of houses. Having taken this stroll, we followed some ill-looking fellows, with drums on their backs, to the Place Royale; there were collected above fifty drummers, belonging to the national and civic guards, and the troops of the line; they were in line, the former on the right, and two deep; at the first stroke of St. James's clock striking eight, all began to beat the tattoo, in capital style, but making a din which might be heard above the roar of Niagara. Having beaten a roll of about two minutes all paused, and commenced a march, filing off in parties to their various quarters. We have never heard better drumming except in the regimental band of the Coldstreams, who certainly excel even their Brussels brothers at the hide and stick. We turned to our hotel fairly tired by VOL. II. the heat of the day. Next morning we breakfasted early, in order to get to the celebration of high mass at the church of St. James: it was the feast of the Ascension, and every thing was on an unusually grand scale; having taken a praying-chair, for which we paid the forty-seventh part of a franc, we stood the whole time, not even leaning forward, which seemed to be reckoned equivalent to kneeling, except at the elevation of the host, when all were prostrated before the altar. The music was good, especially the parts set to the more solemn prayers, the remainder being of a light and operatic nature. As is usual on the Continent, the organ was supported by a band of stringed and wind instruments. The front of this church is one of the most classical productions which we have seen. We took a guide and went off to see the lions-the palace of the Prince of Orange-like all other palaces, very superb, but not worth any particular notice, the architecture and furniture being in the general gorgeous style of regal magnificence. Some good paintings, however, delayed us, in spite of the gestures and "sacrés” of our guide, who wished to dispatch us as fast as possible. A Boar Hunt, by Rubens, in the Grand Salle-a Portrait, by Vandych, and some others, we could not find out by whom painted, were worth looking at and studying. We find it would oc cupy too much room did we follow our route in any regular method. We shall for the future merely mention some few detached anecdotes and incidents, and such like, requesting your readers not to be alarmed if we carry them on at the rate of one hundred miles per minute. A hint for our pro poposed new House of Commons, might be taken from the Chamber of Deputies here; the members sit in semi-circular rows, so as to be seen by all in the house. Two of the front "bancs" were set apart for the ministers, the ministerial men, and opposition sit promiscuously, the votes being asked individually by the President, and taken down by the Secretary, so many "pour et contré." The public galleries were over the hindmost row, and the private boxes behind the chair; these last are gained by a Speaker's order." The Chamber of Peers is only a long room, hung with 66 4 B scarlet, and has nothing remarkable. Two paintings which had adorned this room in the last reign, were now ignominiously thrown into a garret, where we saw them; the cause of this disrespect towards the fine arts is, be cause one is a painting of the Prince of Orange wounded at Waterloo; and fearful of hurting Leopold's point of courage, the worthy people dismissed the painting to a disgraceful solitude; the other was also to the honour of the House of Orange, being the Surrender of the Spanish General to Prince Maurice of Orange, at the battle of Neiuport-this has followed the other, and, we suppose, will there remain till better times come round. The old woman, whom we bribed to show us the paintings, looked fierce and growled wickedly, when we remarked the different relative situations of the French and Belgians at Waterloo and the present time. At the museum, or gallery of pictures, we found a cabinet gem of Gerard Dow, a student, painting from a statue of Cupid by lamp-light, exquisitely beautiful, worth half the spoiled canvass we have seen; it is carefully kept locked in a glass-case, and we won the heart of the keeper by our admiration; the collection is not rich in the masters, nor is it on the whole first rate, but there are many well worth seeing. A Chymist, by Rykart, Card Players by Brown, and some by Wouvermans. One strange painting amused us much; a Daphne growing into a Tree, the leaves sprouting like greens from her fingers; a green hue stealing down her arms which are held up, and roots connecting her with the ground. One sees at a glance that before Apollo comes up she will be fast in her coat of virtuous bark; he is puffing away in the back ground, looking a little astonished at the change in his mistress. The whole gave us a laugh, and that is worth coming here for. After dinner we strolled into the park, and rolled on chairs, the weather being too hot to stir, or do any thing but drink Rhine wine and seltzer water, on which we at present live, breakfast being a name, and dinner a nonentity. A relapse into an attack of influenza held one of us to his bed for some days; but this confinement and the silence attendant on a sick chamber were amply recompensed by a circumstance, which but for this much abused complaint, would have been lost. Our hotel was next to the church of St. James, and our room casement opened on a level with one of the windows of the church; both were left open from the heat of the weather, and often were the weary hours beguiled by the solemn music of the many services. The morning was ushered in by a strain so powerful as to rouse up all the neighbourhood. The fore and afternoon prayers were accompanied by the organ, but the delightful part was the vesper services in the deep gloom of the evening; the soft harmony then rose, stealing like a wearied spirit to its rest, while the mellowed voices of the monks came in half lost chords, now swelling to rich fulness-now dying on the air. Once or twice it drew the patient to the window to see the effect of the Gothic building, half lighted by the deepening dusk, but nothing could be seen, save here and there a lamp hung before some figure of the maiden mother, casting a gentle light within its narrow compass, but their dim uncertainty ever adds to the pleasing feelings of such scenes, for while some senses are gratified by the sight or sound of realities, the mind is busied in its imaginative powers, adding those things to the picture, which are thought to improve it. One more look we had at the gallery, to rejoice over the Gerard Dow, and wonder at the Rubens. Each time that we see the old Flemish masters, we more and more dislike the prodigality of blood in their works. Wherever a wound is supposed to be, there is a stream of gore, meant, no doubt, as pathetic, but to our feelings, disgusting. One look like the Magdalen of Rubens at the foot of the Cross, combining love, sorrow, and veneration, is worth a thousand carmine tinged wounds. one speaks to the heart, the other imparts expression only to the eye.Even the calm tranquillity of the tortured martyrs is better than the streaming torrents of blood, so plentifully bestowed in this school. The Politics! A person who remains but a few days in a country, is but little qualified to speak boldly of these knotty concerns. But there are occa sionally some circumstances so marked |