in the Strand, I was asked seventeen shillings for "Ebel's Guide through Switzerland ;" and for the same work in French, I gave eight francs in Liége: the book in English would have cost nine francs.

One of our favourite strolls, during our quarantine, was to the fruit and vegetable market. The different costumes of the peasantry; the playing fountains, of which there are three; the rows of rich acacias; and the display of the produce of the surrounding country, formed an exceedingly picturesque affair.

In the evening, attended mass at L'Eglise de St. Denis, a church the interior architecture of which is so light and elegant that you fear lest a puff of wind might blow it away altogether. The altar is an exquisite piece of ecclesiastical decoration. The congregation was numerous, and apparently wrapped in intense devotion. Verily I had near become a catholic myself. The organ had a splendid volume; twilight was wreathing around the sculptured columns; the incense wafted through the fretted aisles; the saints seemed, in the gathering gloom, to be quickening into life; a madonna looked upon me with an eye so like to that of charity, that once I arose to meet her embrace; the censers waved; the host was uplifted: oh! 'twas a rare piece of soulstirring pageantry.

Later in the evening, my companions, with the Englishman and the Belgian, formed a whist-table. I prepared coffee, betted upon the odd trick, and afterwards had a dark solitary ramble on the old bridge and on the banks of the river.

CHAPTER VIII.

SCENERY OF THE RIVER OURT-SPA-
GAMING.

VARIETY is charming-variety it is that sweetens life. I'll maintain this axiom against the boldest averrer to the contrary; therefore we started at nine this morning in the coupé of the diligence to Spa. The fare was three francs each person. The environs of the city on the eastern side of the river presented a succession of cottages enclosed in fruitful orcharding and well-cultivated gardens. There were several vineyards, but the grapes appeared to be small, and poor in quality; indeed, the wine made in this district is little esteemed, and only drank by the lower orders.

A few miles from Liége we left the Meuse, and followed the course of the little river Ourt for

three leagues. I shall have occasion to speak of this stream again: its scenery is exquisite, combining the rural and the romantic. In many places we were strongly reminded of the Wye, and throughout its course its character is the same. Rivers running through a limestone formation are always more picturesque than others. I have often observed this; in Scotland, for example, the streams flowing between granite rocks have often bolder and more striking parts, but have never those pictorial sweeps and richly-wooded cliffs so peculiar to rivers where the rock is limestone. This of course is easily accounted for; because the latter rock being more cavernous than any other, encourages the growth of underwood in the numerous holes and crannies that contain small quantities of soil. The Ourt is clear, free from sedgy banks, turbulent occasionally, and always rapid.

Passed the ruin of Franchimont Castle, situated on a mound: effect more massive than picturesque. We reached Spa at half-past one, and made our. selves comfortable in the Hôtel d'Yorck.

Imagine a continuous dell or ravine; on each side, high hills, covered with heather, wood, and rock, leaving scarcely room for a green meadow, the high road, and a brawling river. Imagine further, a long avenue of lime-trees, containing

the road and a broad promenade, and at the extent of a mile a number of houses huddled together on different little eminences, the streets grassgrown, and every alternate dwelling an hotel; in the centre, a plain ugly edifice ycleped the pumproom, containing, about noon, three young ladies of fifty-eight, all unmarried, and two old benedicts of forty-seven there, five donkeys with white trappings; here, an easy old carriage with two long-tailed black horses. On the steps of all the hotels are ennuis awaiting the table d'hôte bell; and perched on those bald corners of cliff, high on the hills, are what you take for green and white pig-sties, but what the worthy people of the place have cognomened "temples" and "pavillions." Why they be placed there you are at a loss to conceive; but listen to this old cicerone, and he will inform you they are intended to "improve" the scenery.

This is Spa during the day-time: and now for the same village in the evening. The well-lighted little room, over the way, is Monsieur Le Fiddlestick's reading-room, where journals in French, German, and English, are regularly taken in. Here you see six Englishmen, four Frenchmen, and one light-haired, round-headed, German.

It is scarcely one minute's walk to the Grand