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little travels and roadside sketches-第4部分

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thoughts; it refreshes the brain when weary; and every sedentary

cigar…smoker will tell you how much good he has had from it; and

how he has been able to return to his labor; after a quarter of an

hour's mild interval of the delightful leaf of Havana。  Drinking

has gone from among us since smoking came in。  It is a wicked error

to say that smokers are drunkards; drink they do; but of gentle

diluents mostly; for fierce stimulants of wine or strong liquors

are abhorrent to the real lover of the Indian weed。  Ah! my

Juliana; join not in the vulgar cry that is raised against us。

Cigars and cool drinks beget quiet conversations; good…humor;

meditation; not hot blood such as mounts into the head of drinkers

of apoplectic port or dangerous claret。  Are we not more moral and

reasonable than our forefathers?  Indeed I think so somewhat; and

many improvements of social life and converse must date with the

introduction of the pipe。



We were a dozen tobacco…consumers in the wagon of the train that

brought us from Antwerp; nor did the women of the party (sensible

women!) make a single objection to the fumigation。  But enough of

this; only let me add; in conclusion; that an excellent Israelitish

gentleman; Mr。 Hartog of Antwerp; supplies cigars for a penny

apiece; such as are not to be procured in London for four times

the sum。



Through smiling corn…fields; then; and by little woods from which

rose here and there the quaint peaked towers of some old…fashioned

chateaux; our train went smoking along at thirty miles an hour。  We

caught a glimpse of Mechlin steeple; at first dark against the

sunset; and afterwards bright as we came to the other side of it;

and admired long glistening canals or moats that surrounded the

queer old town; and were lighted up in that wonderful way which the

sun only understands; and not even Mr。 Turner; with all his

vermilion and gamboge; can put down on canvas。  The verdure was

everywhere astonishing; and we fancied we saw many golden Cuyps as

we passed by these quiet pastures。



Steam…engines and their accompaniments; blazing forges; gaunt

manufactories; with numberless windows and long black chimneys; of

course take away from the romance of the place but; as we whirled

into Brussels; even these engines had a fine appearance。  Three or

four of the snorting; galloping monsters had just finished their

journey; and there was a quantity of flaming ashes lying under the

brazen bellies of each that looked properly lurid and demoniacal。

The men at the station came out with flaming torchesawful…looking

fellows indeed!  Presently the different baggage was handed out;

and in the very worst vehicle I ever entered; and at the very

slowest pace; we were borne to the 〃Hotel de Suede;〃 from which

house of entertainment this letter is written。



We strolled into the town; but; though the night was excessively

fine and it was not yet eleven o'clock; the streets of the little

capital were deserted; and the handsome blazing cafes round about

the theatres contained no inmates。  Ah; what a pretty sight is the

Parisian Boulevard on a night like this! how many pleasant hours

has one passed in watching the lights; and the hum; and the stir;

and the laughter of those happy; idle people!  There was none of

this gayety here; nor was there a person to be found; except a

skulking commissioner or two (whose real name in French is that of

a fish that is eaten with fennel…sauce); and who offered to conduct

us to certain curiosities in the town。  What must we English not

have done; that in every town in Europe we are to be fixed upon by

scoundrels of this sort; and what a pretty reflection it is on our

country that such rascals find the means of living on us!





Early the next morning we walked through a number of streets in the

place; and saw certain sights。  The Park is very pretty; and all

the buildings round about it have an air of neatnessalmost of

stateliness。  The houses are tall; the streets spacious; and the

roads extremely clean。  In the Park is a little theatre; a cafe

somewhat ruinous; a little palace for the king of this little

kingdom; some smart public buildings (with S。 P。 Q。 B。 emblazoned

on them; at which pompous inscription one cannot help laughing);

and other rows of houses somewhat resembling a little Rue de

Rivoli。  Whether from my own natural greatness and magnanimity; or

from that handsome share of national conceit that every Englishman

possesses; my impressions of this city are certainly anything but

respectful。  It has an absurd kind of Lilliput look with it。  There

are soldiers; just as in Paris; better dressed; and doing a vast

deal of drumming and bustle; and yet; somehow; far from being

frightened at them; I feel inclined to laugh in their faces。  There

are little Ministers; who work at their little bureaux; and to read

the journals; how fierce they are!  A great thundering Times could

hardly talk more big。  One reads about the rascally Ministers; the

miserable Opposition; the designs of tyrants; the eyes of Europe;

&c。; just as one would in real journals。  The Moniteur of Ghent

belabors the Independent of Brussels; the Independent falls foul of

the Lynx; and really it is difficult not to suppose sometimes that

these worthy people are in earnest。  And yet how happy were they

sua si bona norint!  Think what a comfort it would be to belong to

a little state like this; not to abuse their privilege; but

philosophically to use it。  If I were a Belgian; I would not care

one single fig about politics。  I would not read thundering

leading…articles。  I would not have an opinion。  What's the use of

an opinion here?  Happy fellows! do not the French; the English;

and the Prussians; spare them the trouble of thinking; and make all

their opinions for them?  Think of living in a country free; easy;

respectable; wealthy; and with the nuisance of talking politics

removed from out of it。  All this might the Belgians have; and a

part do they enjoy; but not the best part; no; these people will be

brawling and by the ears; and parties run as high here as at Stoke

Pogis or little Pedlington。



These sentiments were elicited by the reading of a paper at the

cafe in the Park; where we sat under the trees for a while and

sipped our cool lemonade。  Numbers of statues decorate the place;

the very worst I ever saw。  These Cupids must have been erected in

the time of the Dutch dynasty; as I judge from the immense

posterior developments。  Indeed the arts of the country are very

low。  The statues here; and the lions before the Prince of Orange's

palace; would disgrace almost the figurehead of a ship。



Of course we paid our visit to this little lion of Brussels (the

Prince's palace; I mean)。  The architecture of the building is

admirably simple and firm; and you remark about it; and all other

works here; a high finish in doors; wood…works; paintings; &c。;

that one does not see in France; where the buildings are often

rather sketched than completed; and the artist seems to neglect the

limbs; as it were; and extremities of his figures。



The finish of this little place is exquisite。  We went through some

dozen of state…rooms; paddling along over the slippery floors of

inlaid woods in great slippers; without which we must have come to

the ground。  How did his Royal Highness the Prince of Orange manage

when he lived here; and her Imperial Highness the Princess; and

their excellencies the chamberlains and the footmen?  They must

have been on their tails many times a day; that's certain; and must

have cut queer figures。



The ball…room is beautifulall marble; and yet with a comfortable;

cheerful look; the other apartments are not less agreeable; and the

people looked with intense satisfaction at some great lapis…lazuli

tables; which the guide informed us were worth four millions; more

or less; adding with a very knowing look; that they were un peu

plus cher que l'or。  This speech has a tremendous effect on

visitors; and when we met some of our steamboat companions in the

Park or elsewherein so small a place as this one falls in with

them a dozen times a day〃Have you seen the tables?〃 was the

general question。  Prodigious tables are they; indeed!  Fancy a

table; my deara table four feet widea table with legs。  Ye

heavens! the mind can hardly picture to itself anything so

beautiful and so tremendous!



There are some good pictures in the palace; too; but not so

extraordinarily good as the guide…books and the guide would have us

to think。  The latter; like most men of his class; is an ignoramus;

who showed us an Andrea del Sarto (copy or original); and called it

a Correggio; and made other blunders of a like nature。  As is the

case in England; you are hurried through the rooms without being

allowed time to look at the pictures; and; consequently; to

pronounce a satisfactory judgment on them。



In the Museum more time was granted me; and I spent some hours with

pleasure there。  It is an absurd little gallery; absurdly imitating

the Louvre; with just such compartments and pillars as you see in

the noble Paris gallery; only here the pillars and capitals are

stucco and white in place of marble and gold; and plaster…of…paris

busts of great Belgians are placed between the pillars。  An artist

of the country has made a picture containing them; and you will be

ashamed of your ignorance when you hear many of their names。  Old

Tilly of Magdeburg figures in one corner; Rubens; the endless

Rubens; stands in the midst。  What a noble countenance it is; and

what a manly; swaggering consciousness of power!



The picture to see here is a portrait; by the great Peter Paul; of

one of the governesses of the Netherlands。  It is just the finest

portrait that ever was seen。  Only a half…length; but such a

majesty; such a force; such a splendor; such a simplicity about it!

The woman is in a stiff black dress;
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