Visci." A few hours more, and all was over; he suddenly fell a victim to disease of

the heart. Such men cannot die; they survive in the force of their example.

BELGIUM is renowned for its quaint old cities, its historical associations, its fortresses, and its battle-fields, and, of late years, for its manufacturing industry, its eager spirit of enterprise, and its growing prospects of future wealth and greatness; but its name calls up in the minds of but few, thoughts of picturesque scenery, of lofty hills, shattered rocks, valleys full of the richest verdure, nooks where the poet might nestle as in a chosen home, and caverns wild and romantic. Yet within the territories of the Belgian Leopold may all these objects of beauty and interest be found; and the traveller through the legendary lands of the "Low Countries," as they were termed of old, has only to turn aside a little to the south, and he will find himself entering a region marked by the peculiarities just indicated, to a degree that is rare and surprising.

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We have often thought of our rambles, some time ago, in the city of Bruges, and fancied we saw the last beams of the setting sun tinging the old brick towers of church and belfry that belfry whose musical chimes are at this moment floating into our And with thoughts of Bruges there have again and again come thoughts of Ghent, with its ancient squares and its streets full of Spanish-looking houses, and its churches and Belgian monastery, and stories of civic wealth, conflict, and power. Brussels, too, with its noble Hôtel de Ville, rich in historical mementoes, and its cathedral of S. Gudule, with its painted windows and curious carvings -that city also has frequently opened on our remembrance most vividly pictorial; nor have we been wont to forget the iron and coal, the engines and manufactures, which impart to Liege, and other spots in the Netherlands, a look like the hives of industrial toil that we see in the north of England. But within the last

twelve months other ideas of Belgium have become prominent in our mind-ideas which had indeed existed there before, but only in the faint shadowy colors such as books produce. What is sylvan and sequesteredwhat is bold and beautiful in vale and river

what is impressive and solemn in long subterranean passages and grottoes of lofty heights-are now indissolubly and in preeminence associated in our thoughts with a country chiefly regarded by us before as one of flat plains and great cities. Having recently, by reading Mr. Costello's book on the subject, stimulated our desires to see the valley of the Meuse, which abounds in the scenery we have mentioned, we resolved on a pilgrimage to the tempting region; and though we went with expectations considerably raised by the very pleasant sketches of that intelligent writer, what we saw far surpassed all which we had imagined.

After an excursion of great beauty, we found ourselves, one summer evening, at the fine old town of Dinant. The history of this place is in striking contrast to its present tranquillity and seclusion. It was once the seat of civic strife and of savage war; and from its importance and wealth, and its relation to the city of Liege, was mixed up with the stirring events which belong to the times of Louis XI. and the Duke of Burgundy. Having excited the anger of Philip, the father of Charles the Bold, the city endured a terrible retaliation, which that prince came to witness in his litter, just before his death.

"The Dinandii," says Philip de Comines, "made a bold sally one day, but it proved much to their disadvantage; for they were beaten so cruelly, that the eighth day after, (their friends having no time to consider of their relief,) the town was taken and set on fire, and the prisoners (about eight hundred) drowned before Bouvines. Whether God

permitted it as a judgment upon them for their malice, I cannot determine, but certainly it was a dreadful revenge." The town was a second time demolished by the French in 1554, and has never since regained its previous extent and power. Nor has the wrath of man been the only scourge of the place, for the elements have also warred against it; and in the old church, upon one of the pillars near the door, there still remains, far from the floor above the pavement, the floodmark reached by the overflowing river some years ago.

But we must not now tarry at Dinant, though right pleasant be the place, reminding us, by the way, not a little of Heidelberg, as seen above the bridge in Turner's famous picture of it. We shall proceed along the banks of the Meuse, in the direction of Givet. Here we find ourselves amongst perpendicular rocks to the right, and outspread meadows, fields, and woods to the left; while the labcrers engaged in damming up the banks, and the noise of quarrymen at work getting stone out of the mountains, entertain us as we proceed. We were struck with a long line of trees running across the meadow-lands on the left bank, which, as seen from the right-that which we followed-appeared like a screen, more fair than any Gothic one, giving increased beauty to the landscape that rose behind and beyond.

Advancing on, we found the scene more bold and lonely, the hills sweeping round and forming an amphitheatre, in the basin of which the river lay as it had been a lake. Before us stood the château de Freyr, embosomed among the trees-a plain, old-fashioned, white edifice, with dark conical-capped towers at the angles, those common features in continental castles. We walked about the gardens and entered the summer-house, all in the style of the last century, formal and stiff; but the chief object of interest of which we were in quest was the grotto, discovered only twenty-five years since, according to the account given by Costello. The late possessor, the Duc de Beaufort Spontin, was out shooting, when "his dog, in pursuit of a fox, ran into an earth, and disappeared so long that he was thought to be lost; but in the course of about half an hour he was distinctly heard, yelping at a considerable distance from the spot where he entered; and on closely examining the rocks, a deep fissure was found opening out into a spacious chamber, and communicating by a long and sinu ous passage with the fox-earth. Some la

borers were set to work with pick-axe and mattock, and the lower aperture, enlarged, formed the entrance to a series of eight beautiful galleries, thickly encrusted with stalactites, and terminating in the lofty hall first discovered, which admits a ray of daylight through the brushwood that nearly covers the fissure. Some bones and two or three skulls are shown; but whether they are the relics of ancient sacrifice, the remains of venerable hermits, or the disjecta membra of refugees or murdered travellers, tradition is silent."

Having been interested in this description, we sought from the gardener the privilege of seeing the cavern, and were conducted through woods and along winding rocky paths for some distance, till we reached the entrance, the lower aperture mentioned by Costello. The preliminary business of lighting candles being done, we followed our guide into the gloomy recess, at first very narrow and very low, and, like all such places, damp and cold. Having reached the end of a confined passage, we were introduced into a small but lofty chamber, where the stalactites drooping from the roof are very curious.* These are in some cases connected by a thin strip of petrifaction in wavy folds, quite transparent, and, as seen with a candle. behind them, exceedingly beautiful. Many of the forms which these singular rocksecretions exhibit, suggest fanciful resemblances, and one in particular strongly reminded us of the enormous skull of some extinct megatheroid, or other fossil monster. The stalagmites, too, rising up from the ground, as if emulous of reaching their neighbors on the roof, are in several instances very striking, looking like stunted firs, stripped of their branches and their bark, and bleached by the rain and the tempest.

At the termination of these passages and smaller chamber we reached the larger cell

* Stalactitic carbonate of lime occurs chiefly in long masses suspended from the roofs of caverns in limestone rocks. Stalactites appear to be continually forming. Water containing carbonate of lime held in solution by carbonic acid, trickling through crevices in the roofs of the caverns, gradually during its exposure to the air loses its carbonic acid, and consequently deposits its carbonate of lime; the water passing over the portion first deposited gradually adds to it, and eventually gives the carbonate of lime its great length and stalactitic character. The flatter deposits, called stalagmites, are formed on the floor of the cavern, by the water there depositing that portion of its carbonate of lime which is not separated during the formation of the stalactite.

of the grotto, into which the foxhound made | his way, and so led to the discovery of the curious place. This is the noblest of the subterranean cells; and awful indeed does it appear, when the guide descends into the yawning abyss below, and lights up the gloomy rugged sides. The beams of day, however, come in from the upper part, and the upper floor of the cave seems just the place that would have pleased a hermit in the olden time.

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Having sufficiently explored these wonders, and filled our minds with images of the wild and terrible, we emerged into bright midday again at the same spot where we had entered the cave. The walk thence down to the river, along wooded pathways, and through graceful alleys of overshadowing trees, was exceedingly grateful amidst the sultry heat, and we were glad to catch the breezes which came in welcome but gentle gusts from the waterside, as we issued from the shady avenues. We crossed the river, and wandered through the meadows beyond the leafy screen work before mentioned, and mounted into charming orchards spread out over the rising lands; and then into fields of barley and wheat, and others full of peas and beans; wending our way, well as the vague information elicited from the peasants could guide us, towards the castle of Walzen, another object of which we were in search. After walking a considerable distance over hills, we came suddenly upon one of the most magnificent and entrancing views which, of that kind, we ever beheld. There lay below, in a deep broad hollow, formed by rocky hills, which here again assumed somewhat the shape of an amphitheatre, a sequestered glen or valley, watered by the Lesse, one of the tributaries of the Meuse. The emerald greenness of the meadow at the bottom; the sparkling waters seen through the opening branches of the woods spreading out at our feet; the multitude of trees, in massy foliage, behind and around, here skirting the many-colored rocks, and there completely covering them; the tops of distant châteaus peering up from gardens and orchards in the midst of which they were embosomed; these, with the addition of a wooden bridge that came into view as we descended the hills, contributed to make a landscape which, once seen, can never be forgotten. All travellers have in the precious picture-gallery of imaginative memory, a few cabinet paintings such as out vie the productions of the first masters of art, and which from present scenes they oft

retire to look at. The view of the valley of the Lesse from the rising grounds we have described, will henceforth be to us one of those cherished treasures.

We descended into the valley along undulating roads, very retired and shady, and passed the châteaus we have mentioned, and then came out again upon another scene of sylvan beauty vying with the first. It was a long valley of the same general features; steep wooded banks rising from the opposite side of the water, and meadows of sparkling green, lying between the Lesse and the elevated road, over which we made our weary way to the castle of Walzen. The valley recalled to our recollections the most beautiful portions of the Wharfe near Bolton Priory. Just by the castle gate, where the road commands a view of the valley below, we could not help pausing to drink in the delicious beauties of the whole scene, here heightened by a few cottages sprinkled over the banks of the river, together with that picturesque feature in a landscape-a time-worn watermill. Peasants, too, in one part, were fording the shallow stream, while in another part the ferryman appeared plying his humble occupation.

Admitted within the precincts of the castle, which has nothing to recommend it but a general air of antiquity, we crossed some gardens bright with scarlet geraniums, to a terrace which overhung the winding river at another point, giving us a further view of the stream and the bendings of the valley. Guided still farther on by the castle gardener, we came to a seat on a lofty pathway, striking out in a new direction, overlooking the valley, whence there broke upon us the front of the castle, at the back of which we had entered. There it stood, with its white walls, and little windows, and circular towers, and steep roof, so queer and quaint, perched on the extreme edge of a rock, which went down to the river as perpendicularly as you would cast a plumb-line, the castle rather projecting from the top than otherwise. It was just the place in which to sit for hours, and dream of nature's beauty and of feudal times, of the peacefulness of God's creation, and of the broils and discords of man's wild ways. The Lesse must altogether be a river of wonderful interest; for besides what we have detailed, and have yet to describe in connection with it, there are some extraordinary rocks which we did not see at Chaleux, "projecting like spires, and one, La Chaudelle, like a pillar from the face of the rock."