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；