on the ground floor, as at Amsterdam; and there is a chill dampness about them by no means comfortable to one subject to agues. Our bedrooms look out upon a pretty garden, where is a tame stork running about, which, when he would be lively, executes the strangest and most awkward antics, reminding me of the story of the German who, making a prodigious noise jumping over chairs and tables, apologized by saying, "J'apprends d'être vif!"

The Hague is a beautiful city, fair and pleasant enough for Italy-indeed reminding us not a little of the cities in Northern Italy. It is the residence of the court, and exhibits many marks of the elegance which should attend courts. It abounds in parks, places, and magnificent old trees; in palaces, in galleries, excellent dwellings, and depôts of fancy articles of merchandize, such as Japan ware, Bohemian glass, etc. We went immediately after breakfast to the king's palace, where we saw an admirable gallery of painting and sculpture arranged with the greatest care, and offering more that was gratifying than anything in its way that we have found lately. The apartments are in the gothic style, beginning with a long and elegant entrance-hall, one side of which is lighted with rich stained windows. In this hall are principally royal portraits. The next apartment is filled with sculpture, and from this a grand staircase leads to the magnificent gallery of paintings, of which it is said that it contains scarcely a bad picture. The Rembrandt portraits alone would suffice to render it inestimable. I think I have a more perfect notion of the merit of that great master than ever before.

The crayon studies of Michael Angelo for the Last

Judgment, of Leonardo for the Supper, of Raphael, Correggio and other great names for various pictures, are among the treasures of highest price; and the elegance with which all are presented, make this a gallery to be remembered with especial pleasure. The king is building a palace round the one which he occupies, which belongs to the Queen, and is a favorite with her. The new is to be so arranged as to include the old, and not to disturb her majesty's enjoyment of her preference.

The National gallery contains that wonder of the Dutch school, the Bull of Paul Potter, which at the time of the French spoliations was reckoned the fourth picture in the world, and carried to Paris; in spite of the entreaties of the Dutch government, who are said to have offered Napoleon twenty thousand pounds sterling if he would allow it to remain at the Hague. It is indeed a miracle of execution; but except as the representative of a great school, I should never have thought of according it such a place among the world's best pictures. The Transfiguration, the Communion of St. Jerome, and Titian's Peter Martyr, are alone placed above it.

The Dissection, by Rembrandt, is another of the precious pictures, in the estimation of connoisseurs; but it is of course most unpleasing from the subject, from which everything but a severe correctness is studiously excluded. And even this, to my obstinate eye will not look right; for although the figure is considerably foreshortened, the right arm which is extended,-fingers and all,-should surely reach below the point of the hip, which it does not, view it as you will. The death color is wonderfully attained. This picture formerly stood in the Anatomy school, and

to my thinking it should be there still. But execution is all, in the Dutch galleries. Wouvermans, Gerard Dow and Jan Steen, are well represented here.

We have found the Hague charming in all respects. It would be one of the most delightful places for a longer sojourn; but we are obliged to hasten onward, since the autumnal feel of the air reminds us every day of home, and hurries our sight-seeing. We have visited the Royal cabinet of curiosities, including a splendid collection of Japanese wares; the Town Palace, which was elegantly fitted up, a year or two since, to receive the Queen of England, who did not come. We drove out to a woodland palace where a grand apartment is painted with a confused allegorical crowd, in honor of Prince Frederic of Orangethe offering of a wife's affection. The artists were Jordaens, Hondthorst, etc. but the undertaking was too vast for unity, though there are some beautiful things. The drive to and from the palace is through a fine old wood.

This city is famous for its shops of Japan ware, old lace, porcelain and curiosities of all kinds, some of which we visited.

We set out for Rotterdam after dinner; passed Ryswick, Delft, Schiedam; and entered the city at dusk. Here is plenty of quaint ugliness; I thought of an old New York saying, "This beats the Dutch!" Nothing can beat Rotterdam for coarseness of outward appearance. Here are innumerable canals and drawbridges, and the shipping lies all over the city. The High street is built upon a dam; the house of Erasmus is a gin-shop; the public promenade is a quay called the Boompjes. What a hopeless language is this Dutch! A railroad is "Iszerenspoor

weg;" an association "Maatschappij "; a tower in Amsterdam the "Schreijershoeketoren "; and in walking through the streets the words on the signs are generally such as you cannot by any ingenuity guess out, so uncouth are their combinations.

The Hotel des Pays-Bas at Rotterdam is not at all like its namesake at the capital; but a dirty, musty, uncomfortable place, where we were ill-lodged and grudgingly served. I think I have hardly had so bad a bed or breakfast. We were glad to leave it for the steamer.

Not that we are glad to bid farewell to Holland. Coarse as some of the customs of the country appear to us, and most unlovely its language, we can still appreciate and respect its many excellent points, and feel that we could profitably spend weeks or months in becoming better acquainted with it.

BRUSSELS AND WATERLO0.

We passed Antwerp to come hither, intending to return to the quainter and more antique city to spend Sunday. Brussels has all along been a point with us, for we have had what we called an intention to return to Paris from here. But we are so near England-the weather is becoming so autumnal-Paris has such an insurrectionary reputation, and has suffered so much in interest for the stranger by her recent changes, that when the moment for final decision arrives we determine to return from Belgium to England-giving what little time we may yet spare, to

the mother country. I would not have believed, before I left New York, that I could even acquiesce in such a decision; but the Paris of our five days there was so different from the Paris of my imagination, that I have scarce a regret in passing it thus. This is no doubt to be ascribed, in no small measure, to the weariness of spirit which a tour through Europe occasions. The mind is full-fed, and cannot be tempted to any wish for more. If we could afford a week of entire stagnation here at Brussels, I have no doubt we should wake with a strong desire to go to Paris.

Brussels is a little Paris in itself; everything about it reminds us of the French capital, though to me it is far more agreeable. It is a white city, and looks, in the new parts, as if built more for show than use. I found myself doubting, as in Paris, whether there was anything behind those fine, white, theatrical looking fronts. We are at the Hotel Bellevue, next to the Palace, and "giving" on the Park,―a beautiful enclosure in the French taste, adorned with statuary, but richer in fine old trees. This hotel was "riddled with shot" during the revolution of 1830, when the Park was the scene of the principal conflict; but it is an exceedingly nice place now. Here we received letters from home, making Brussels of course couleur de rose to us.

We set out immediately after breakfast for Waterloodisagreeable paved road and occasional showers. We engaged a good guide, alighted at Hougoumont, and went a foot all over the field, with an interest which I did not anticipate. We gathered some flower-seeds to bring home, and our guide cut some canes from the trees near the Château,