added. Scott was very far from possessing fluency in French conversation, and seemed only to understand what was distinctly spoken and addressed to himself; this deprived him of the power of making use of much that would have given life to the character of his hero, amidst the long historical details. Marshal Macdonald invited to meet him at dinner all the distinguished persons who had known Napoleon most intimately; every one was eager and happy to tell Sir Walter something of their great master; but he, overwhelmed and confounded amidst their French vivacity, and driven to despair by the volubility of their foreign tongues, told the Marshal afterwards that he had actually not understood a single word that was said about the emperor during the whole evening. And thus the good-natured attempts to get him the best information à vive voix, ended in a hearty laugh on the parts of both host and guest; both, with all their great talents, equally endowed with a happy disposition for enjoying the amusing and the ludicrous.

I must end, although I have many things to tell you about the man whom I admire so much, the Marshal; but I think I shall keep them to relate to you when we meet, which will now be so soon, and shall fill my next with a different subject, or subjects, as they offer themselves.-Good-bye!

BRUSSELS.

MY DEAR MOTHER,

LETTER XXV.

Brussels, February 25, 183-.

As you knew sooner than I of the gratification which my travelling propensities were to receive, you will be less surprised, on reading the date of my letter, than I have been in writing it—indeed, my change of place was accomplished very speedily, Mrs. N. having determined to spend as few days in Paris as possible, and I was hurried off with very short adieux to all my kind friends there.

I shall now begin and relate our journey hither; when you have travelled with me all the way, I shall let you know what Brussels is like, and how we like it. We set off early from Paris, and as long as it was light we amused ourselves with looking at the country, then we chatted until we came to our resting-place for the night. At first the country was interesting enough, but still rather triste looking, and the villages and towns through which we passed were particularly So. There was a want of life everywhere—melancholylooking rows of trees, or still more melancholy woods, were to be seen, but no cottages sprinkled up and down, nothing of the cheering animation of the preparation of the fields for the grain. We passed the Oise at a pretty spot, but I forget its name, and indeed the names of the other towns pointed out to me on that day. On the next day we were at Cambray, a large fortified town, containing about 15,000 inhabitants, I believe. It is more interesting to every lover of humanity, from having had Fenelon for its bishop, than for the leagues

between popes and princes, which have been drawn up in it at different times. Yet, during the fury of the revolution, when the madness of an oppressed people made bullets dearer to them than the remembrance of the virtuous, who had made the name of their country illustrious, the tomb of the gentle and benevolent bishop was torn open to take the lead from his coffin. This insult has been in some measure expiated, and an atonement made by a very handsome monument erected some years ago in the cathedral of Cambray. There is a fine statue of Fenelon by David, and there are representations on the four sides of the monument of some of those incidents in which he so artlessly and nobly showed the benevolence of his character-as in leading back the poor man's cow, which the soldiers had driven away.

From Cambray the country wore a more cheerful aspect, and the spring-time labours made us picture it covered with grain and with the fruits of man's industry-there is no sight more cheering than that, and the anticipation of it was felt with a grateful effect on our spirits. The country through which we passed was not highly diversified, not picturesque ; it consisted of wide open fields, with here and there some plantations, and many comfortable-looking dwellings; but it gave infinite pleasure to contemplate it, merely from its being in general cultivation and occupation, while a really more picturesque and varied tract, after leaving Paris, had not pleased from its wanting traces of the life and well-being of man. We were told, by some of our country-people, that when this wide, unenclosed, hedgeless country is covered by its broad carpet of grain, lively green flax, darker clover, pale lilac of the poppy-field, and brown hemp, it is very striking to English eyes which have not been accustomed to so great an extent of open country. Here-are altogether wanting divisions and subdivisions by hedge-rows, and the delightful green lanes, which are so beautiful in Warwickshire. The towns through which we passed were striking also, on the very opposite account-they had the enclosures, which the

fields had not-I mean their fortifications. I do not think that my habits of freedom in thought could ever be reconciled to a fortified town. Do you think I should be able to send my mind on speculations concerning the destinies of men under the shadow of the Andes, or of the Himalayah, or by the frozen lakes of Canada, or on the burning plains of Africa, if I lived in such a place? Indeed, I think I should feel always as if in prison.-Passing through three or four gates, over draw-bridges, over fossés, between high walls, would make my mountain spirit chafe terribly. Péronne, a maiden fortress, which first lost its reputation to that seducer, Wellington, was the first of those towns we came to, then Cambray, then Valenciennes-the former more interesting from its association with the name of Fenelon, than the latter with all its lace.

I think Valenciennes is rather larger than Cambray, but it did not appear to me so neat a town. The streets are narrow, and the houses are not by any means handsome, except in one square. They boast, however, of great antiquity for their town, the good citizens of Valenciennes declaring that it was founded in the fourth century, by the emperor Valentinian, on account of the salubrity of the air of that region-why he should have liked the air of the Scheldt I cannot discover, since in his dominions he could certainly have found rivers of greater beauty and of softer breezes. Besides these towns of war, we had famous battle-fields to pass-Malplaquet and Jemappes, for instance. As a woman, I have no right to love battle-fields, nor do I love them; but it would be impossible for me to pass over any field of battle without my feelings being stirred to their profoundest depths, as it were in sympathy with the long-past struggles of the now peaceful fighters. I do think we are wrong in the manner in which we generally regard wars; when we would condemn them, we look not so much at the unjust, the unjustifiable, commencement of wars, the demoralisation attendant on fighting in a bad cause, as on the pains and sufferings of individuals.

Now the government of the world, under a just and merciful Providence, shows that man was never intended to escape from pain, and suffering, and death; therefore, it is not on such accounts that we must condemn war, but on much higher ones. As to the inhumanity of the leaders in battles, their disregard of the lives of their fellow-beings, such reproaches may as justly be made to great leaders in many of the occupations of peace. The merchant who sends out sailors in insecure vessels, and the manufacturer who overworks the poor mechanic, are as careless of the lives of their fellow-men as the generals of armies, whose deeds they almost fear to read-ay, and the general must share the dangers of those who risk their lives, while the careful friend of peace is secure from those of his labourers! But are we not to value the power which enables men to encounter danger, to despise pain? Is the feeling of perfect union-are the elevating sympathies of those who peril their lives together for their country, or for one and the same cause, not to be highly estimated? Every natural, unspoiled sentiment within us, says that they are to be prized. And, from the days of the betrayed Spartans at Thermopyla, to those of the betrayed Red Indians of yesterday, all that is best in the life of the heart and soul of man, has been kindled into energy by a tale of war. He has learnt more deeply to hate injustice and treachery, therefore to be more just and true, when his indignation awoke against the insolence of the Persian, and the avarice of the Anglo-American.

But now, let me turn to Malplaquet and Jemappes. Think of the former field. On one side, Marlborough, Eugene, Nassau, true hirelings all three, with their hireling English, Germans, and Dutch, and yet in truth, with all this hireling spirit they were bound together on the right side against the encroaching insolence of Louis XIV., and to a certain extent for freedom of principle. Then, on the other side, you have Villars, with the noble-spirited Boufflers, an older Marshal than he serving under him as a volunteer; and the Cheva