considered a good indication of the literary tastes of the people. In walking through the streets on Sunday, I had occasion to observe that a number of young women, who were left in charge of the shops, were sitting behind the counter diligently engaged in reading. The activity displayed in reproducing French literature is in nothing more conspicuous than the announcement which took place during my stay, of an edition of a certain Parisian newspaper, which was to be issued within an hour after the arrival of the paper from Paris.

Brussels possesses a botanical garden, supported by a company of shareholders; it is of great extent and beauty, and forms a delightful promenade on the days on which it is open to visitors. It is situated on an irregular piece of ground on the western Boulevards, at a place greatly improved by the removal of the old walls. In the same quarter, in the midst of a pleasant garden, is placed the royal observatory, an institution through which I had the pleasure of being conducted by the accomplished M. Quetelet, chief-astronomer. The observatory contains a number of instruments of great value, but, as may be supposed, of foreign manufacture.

At the distance of about two miles from Brussels, is situated the palace of Laeken, which now forms a country residence for King Leopold and his family. The small village of Laeken, through which we drive before reaching the royal domain, is of ancient date, and contains a number of guiuengttes, or taverns with public gardens, where we observed parties sitting in the open air playing at dominoes, and otherwise amusing themselves. The palace and its environing pleasure-grounds and garden are secluded from exterior observation by plantations of tall trees; and, uniting this. seclusion with the exceeding lowness of the situation in the swampy plain of the Senne and its tributary canals, it must be allowed that the locality is the very worst that could be chosen, whether with respect to cheerfulness or salubrity. The palace, a large structure, in a handsome Grecian style, was erected in 1784, as a residence for the Austrian viceroy. Some time after the revolution which placed the country under the dominion of the French, it was sold in lots, and would have been demolished but for the timely interposition of Napoleon, who purchased it, and again fitted it up as a palace of royalty. It was here he signed his unfortunate declaration of war against Russia. From the period of Napoleon's fall, the palace has become the property of the crown, and has been the residence of the sovereigns successively called to govern Belgium. Already, in the space of half a century, Laeken has afforded a lodging to princes of four dynasties. Since it came into the possession of Leopold, the grounds have been considerably extended, and now contain 200 English acres. They are laid out with much taste, and comprehend a number of summer-houses, green-houses, and an orangery.

For those who have time to spare, many most agreeable

excursions may be made in the environs of Brussels to different villages where fêtes are constantly occurring, and to which the inhabitants of the town resort in great numbers in the summer months. One of the most commonly visited scenes, it is almost unnecessary to mention, is that of the field of Waterloo, at the distance of an easy forenoon's excursion.

A stay of a few days in Brussels impressed us with a very favourable opinion of it as a place of residence. Both in external aspect, and in various social peculiarities, it bears a marked resemblance to Paris; but the people here, and in some other places in Belgium, are much more like the English than the French. The Belgians are an active and business-minding people; and, though lively enough in their manner, are evidently not wanting in the solid qualities requisite for the mercantile character. Those we see in such towns as Brussels, cannot be distinguished from English in anything but their language-they may be called an English people speaking French; while those in the country, who form the Flemish part of the population, are remarkable for their old-fashioned steady habits, like their brethren the boors of Holland.

For some little time Brussels formed my head-quarters, whence I diverged to make inquiries respecting the state of elementary education, crime, and agricultural operations. The system of school-instruction, I regret to say, was found to be less perfect or commendable than that which had merited approbation in Holland. Of the social condition of the rural population, there was much for the stranger to observe, and to feel interested in. The management of the land in Belgium is altogether peculiar. That kind of small farming which is known to produce misery elsewhere, is here carried on with a success which is puzzling to the social economist. The cause of the phenomenon lies unquestionably in the industrious, orderly, and self-denying habits of the people, along with a knowledge of certain correct principles in husbandry -such as a proper rotation of cropping, and good management of manures. The farms generally vary in size from five to twenty acres in extent, some being as large as fifty, but few extending to a hundred acres. The culture of the light and fertile soil may be said to be a species of gardening, in which nearly all the labour is performed by the hands of the farmer and his wife and family. Nothing can be more neat and attractive than the small whitewashed farm-steadings, and the well laid-out plots of ground, in which not a weed is to be seen among the growing crops. The whole is a picture of cleanliness and comfort. It has been ascertained by statistical inquiry, that the agricultural population, whose lives are a constant struggle, are among the most contented and well-behaved peasantry in the world. With but sufficient to pay a moderate rent, and live in a humble manner, their system of farming, unless for prudential habits, would speedily cover the soil with a swarm of paupers. It becomes tolerably evident, that

the too rapid increase of population is checked by the universal repugnance to marrying before the subsistence of a family can be readily and honestly obtained by industry. Conversing on this subject at Brussels with M. le Compte Arrivebene, I was informed by him that he had resided for eleven years in a village called Gaesbeck, in the province of Brabant, containing 364 inhabitants, and that, during the whole of the period, neither a crime nor a culpable indiscretion had been committed. The greater part of the inhabitants are renters and cultivators of land, to the extent of five or six acres each family; and this, with a cottage and garden, is quite enough to render them comfortable. They are all Roman Catholics, and exceedingly devout. Their piety, however, does not render them gloomy and morose: they have fifteen holidays throughout the year, exclusive of Sundays; and these they partly devote to dancing and out-of-door amusements. The food of this cheerful, industrious, and religious people, is of a simple kind. It consists of coffee with bread early in the morning; bread, butter, and cheese, with milk, at nine o'clock; potatoes with lard at noon; in the evening, a salad with bread; and occasionally there is a little beer. Whether a people, capable of better things, should contentedly drudge on with so slender a reward, may be matter for consideration, and perhaps regret. It is, at all events, certain that Belgian peasant-life, such as it is, possesses some agreeable features, and may form a favourable contrast with what prevails throughout the British islands.

English visitors of Brussels usually devote a day to an excursion to the field of Waterloo, which they can now easily reach by means of a stage-coach, specially established for the purpose, and which departs every morning from the Place Royale. Our excursion to Waterloo formed the commencement of a journey to Namur and the southern part of Belgium, which may now be briefly described.

The country, on leaving Brussels, begins to ascend in gentle undulations, and to partake of rather bleakish upland, here and there darkened with patches of trees, and exhibiting_more_than usually shabby villages. At two or three miles from Brussels, we pass the forest of Soignes, a tract of tall fir-trees, with no feature of liveliness to cheer its gloom; and at nine miles we reach the village of Waterloo, easily distinguishable by its neat brick church, the only good edifice in the place. We are still, however, two miles from the field,' and nothing can be more certain than that the village was not in the least entitled to give its name to the battle. Passing along, we reach, at the distance of a mile, the village of Mont St Jean, a congregation of dwellings much superior to Waterloo; and at a mile beyond, we attain the head of a slight ascent, where stands the hamlet of La Belle Alliance, which marks the commencement of the battle-field. Here the main road, which proceeds in a straight line down the shallow but wide hollow towards the extremity of the horizon at Genappe, is cut across by

an inferior country road; and it was along this ridge, in the line of the cross-path, that the English army was posted. The French lay on the opposite rising-ground on the south, and the heat of the battle may be said to have been in the shallow vale at the farmhouse of La Haye Sainte and Hugoumont. Several monuments, commemorative of distinguished officers, now occupy points on the brow of the ridge by the road-side; but the tree called the Wellington-tree, once a prominent object, is gone. Proceeding for about a hundred yards to the right, along the cross-road, we reach the base of a huge mound of earth, which, with very bad taste, has been erected as a perpetual memorial of victory. It is a conical tumulus, 200 feet in height, surmounted by the figure of a lion, cast by Cockerill of Seraing, from the metal of cannon captured in the engagement. A long flight of steps aids the ascent, and from the summit we are offered a complete panoramic view of the whole field and many miles of country beyond. At the period of my visit, the fields around had been for the most part cleared of their grain, and now lay in stubble, or were in the process of tillage for a new crop. As regards merely physical features, therefore, there was nothing to please the eye in the prospect; a person who attended as guide mentioned that the fields still bore much heavier crops than others at a distance, in consequence of the number of bodies of men and horses which had here enriched the soil. What a mockery of military glory! A shower now falling drove us hurriedly to the carriage, which awaited us on the road, and we made the best of our way, by Genappe and Quatre-Bras, to Namur, a distance of thirty-three miles, in a south-easterly direction, from Waterloo.

The district through which our route lay forms part of Hainault, a province of a hilly or at least elevated character, and altogether different in aspect from the plains of Flanders. The people, too, are less neat and economical in their arrangements; some of the villages were poor and dirty, and the growing of flax seemed to be one of the principal means of support. At spots where the work of the harvest was proceeding, we observed the peculiar Hainault scythe in operation, by which the grain was cut down with considerable rapidity, though, to my fancy, the process appeared slovenly in comparison with that of the sickle in the hands of a skilful reaper. Hainault derives less importance from its agriculture than its mines of coal, of which a fifth part is exported to France. The mines of Charleroi and Mons are of vast extent and incalculable value. By means of short railways, the pits communicate with the navigable rivers or canals. This part of the country is likewise rich in stone of various kinds, among which the blue stone of Tournay, and the marbles of St Anne, Charleroi, and Chimay, possess a high reputation.

Within Hainault lies the picturesque and beautiful Valley of the Sambre, a small river we see on our right on descending to Namur, where it falls into the Meuse, a stream of considerable.

size. The angle of ground at the junction of the waters, pointing towards the north-east, is a high rocky hill, on which stands the citadel, a series of loopholed battlements, overlooking the town, and commanding the vales both of the Sambre and Meuse. The town itself, in which we spent a night, like all places hemmed in by walls, consists of crooked and narrow streets of tall old houses, and, except one or two churches, has nothing of interest for strangers. From the number of shops in which cutlery and articles of brass are exhibited for sale, it may be ascertained that these kinds of goods are a staple manufacture in Namur, which may appropriately enough be called the Sheffield of Belgium.

The Valley of the Meuse, as it lies exposed from the quay at Namur, opens up a new scene of beauty as well as of wide-spread industry. A year or two ago, the river was travelled only by boats drawn by a train of horses, and was therefore of little use; it is now navigated daily by small steam-boats from Dinant, eighteen miles above Namur, to Liege, about fifty-four miles below it; the voyage between these extreme points, in going down, being usually performed in nine hours. The scenery on the banks above Namur is grand and imposing, consisting of high bluffs and cliffy precipices, often dotted over with shrubs, or rendered picturesque by the ruins of an antique castle. From Namur downwards, the river winds through a country presenting a miniature resemblance of the Rhine scenery, with the qualification of shewing more life and industrial enterprise. As we sail down between the romantic rocks, whose bases frequently approach the water so closely as to leave space only for the public highway, we are alternately charmed with the rough abutments and rich slopes clothed with vines to their summits, the gray-tiled cottages perched among the cliffs, and the old red châteaux with jalousy-covered windows, stuck on the uppermost peaks; or, what becomes more frequent as we get further down, the spectacle of little villages, nestling at the bottom of a rocky hill, and obviously the centre of mining or smelting operations. At about half-way to Liege, we pass on the right the ancient town of Huy, stuck awkwardly on the face of the hill, the summit of which is crowned with a fortification, apparently of immense strength, and commanding, with rows of bristling cannon, the passage up and down the Meuse. Part of the town is on the low ground on the left bank, the two divisions being connected by a long stone-bridge, beneath which the steamer barely clears its way. Shortly after, we pass the ancient castellated château of Chocquier, planted on the apex of a cliff, which rises precipitously about 300 feet from the left bank of the river; and further on, on the right, the country now softening into gently ascending fields or stretches of flat meadow-land, we come in front of the ironworks of Seraing, the far-famed establishment of Mr Cockerill. Behind a long and useful quay, the works stretch upwards in the form of a series of large quadrangular_brick