we had seen, the matchless cathedral, with all its treasures; S. Ursula, and the bones of the eleven thousand virgins; S. Geryon's, where the bones of the Theban legion adorn the walls; S. Peter's, enriched with Rubens' picture of the great Apostle's crucifixion, &c. We did not omit the museum, where are some quaint old pictures, of the early German school, which interested us very much. The railway was not open in the year we made this tour, so we hired a carriage to convey us from Cologne to Aix, and travelled by night, to save time. However, the night passed not without several incidents which banished all sleep. First of all, our voiturier lost his way, and did not discover it till we had proceeded some miles on the wrong road, and though he had found out he was wrong, he had not the least idea how to recover his track; so we had to stand still till some passenger came by to direct us. Our next halt was at a little place called Bergheim : here the horses had a rest, and we some supper at a little inn, the host of which spoke English well, and was not long before he informed us that he was a Waterloo soldier. He produced his medal, and would have kept us all night talking about the Great Duke, whose name the inn bore. He had, he said, entertained the Duke once at breakfast, when he was in that neighbourhood; and he showed us the Duke's card, and told us he had invited his host to come and see him, if ever he came to England. He added, that he was going to be married in a few days, and he thought he could not do better than take a trip to England, to see the Duke again. Our next adventure was before Juliers, a fortified town on our route, where we were refused admittance, and sent from one gate to the other whilst permission was obtained for us to pass through; which was at last granted, and about 8 o'clock, a. m., we reached Aix, where we breakfasted, and straightway proceeded to business. The Cathedral, of course, was our first object, the nave of which is curious, being octagonal. It was built by Charlemagne, in imitation of the Holy Sepulchre, and intended as his own place of burial. It was destroyed by the Normans, and rebuilt on the original plan by Otho III., who removed the remains of the Emperor to Vienna,with the exception, it would seem, of a bone or two, which are still preserved here, amongst a multitude of other treasures. Amongst other curiosities at Aix, is the fountain of Elisa, containing a larger proportion of sulphur than any other known mineral spring; its temperature is 143° Fahr. The poor people here use it in its natural state for washing,-the sulphur serving the purpose of soap, and the heat of the water saving fuel. In the evening, we again hired a carriage, and travelled to Liege, where we spent a few hours, next day. We passed the Prussian frontier, between the two places, and received a hint that a bribe would secure our luggage from being searched. Liege is a busy manufacturing town (there is a good supply of coals in the neighbourhood which may account for this,) and this feature contrasts it with its neighbouring towns not unpleasantly; as, though it is less rich in churches and public buildings of interest (saving always the Palais de Justice, the scene of some of Sir Walter Scott's vivid descriptions in Quentin Durward,) it has a character of its own, and it has the advantage over any town on this route in scenery. The views are extensive and beautiful, and you can either proceed to Brussels by rail, or-which is still prettier-up the Meuse to Namur by steam-boat. Having mentioned both these places, we must pass on at once to Antwerp, a city of surpassing interest, and quite worth a visit, if one could go no further. Here first we learnt to understand and appreciate Rubens; his pictures in England, as a rule, being, as far as I know them, of so very different a character from any I ever saw on the other side the Channel. Then there is the Cathedral, the numberless churches, the public buildings, the quays, the museum, and the town itself, with its endless ringing of bells and throng of people: for Antwerp is still a large and busy town, though its trade is not what it was. Pass we on to Ghent, which by contrast seems dull and tame; though it, too, carries on trade, and has its objects of interest in its cathedral of S. Bavon, its Beguinage, its Musée, &c. The marriage of Maximilian with Mary of Burgundy, was solemnized here, and the Emperor Charles V. was born here; and at Bruges, where we will next proceed, we shall find Mary's tomb, and that of her father, Charles the Bold.1 The ancient glories of this town have departed. It was for many years the residence of the Courts of Flanders, and the resort of traders from all parts of the world; and in the 15th century, the Dukes of Burgundy fixed their court there. Its streets are now deserted, and its population mostly paupers; but for that reason, perhaps, it retains more of its old quaint appearance than many of the other Belgic towns where modern improvements have crept in. Before quitting Belgium and its churches, I must not omit one striking feature which is universal throughout the country; I mean the carved oak pulpits. S. Bavon, at Ghent, boasts one of marble; but with that exception I scarcely remember one church that had not this singu lar and beautiful appendage. They are so large that the preacher is almost lost in them, and are of most elaborate workmanship,-representing, generally, some incident from the Bible: Adam and Eve driven out of Paradise, at S. Gudule, at Brussels; the calling of S. Andrew, at Antwerp, and others too numerous to mention. As I recommend you, in the tour I have sketched, to include Tournay and Lille, I must tell you something about them, instead of proceeding at once, as most people do, either from Bruges to Ostend, or vice versa, as the case may be. Not that there is anything very striking in either of these towns; though both are worth looking at when you are so near-Tournay, for the sake of a handsome Cathedral, with five towers, and both, as cheerful, bustling places, with handsome shops where fancy things may be purchased, to bring home to English friends. If you have time for a longer stay, and a little quiet, Cassel is a cheap and delightful halt, whence a few hours and a trifling sum will take you home. Yours, &c., 1 See Baines' "Tales of the Empire." 425 THE DOCTOR'S ASSISTANT. "You'll wait on the stars, and on their hours, Coleridge's Wallenstein. MANY years have passed away since we resided in the pleasant village of Aldertrees; hereditary families abounded in the neighbourhood, while there was the usual average of the poorer classes of society. The vil lage probably derived its name from the vast number of alders bordering the road on either side, and forming an avenue of approach to the substantial red-brick house inhabited by the doctor, who, being advanced in years, had latterly employed an assistant, to preside in the surgery, and to share the arduous duties of a country practitioner. This individual, despite his unromantic position, and also being a middle-aged man, by no means attractive or prepossessing in appearance, always moreover shabbily dressed, and shambling in gait, aroused our interest and sympathies to a great degree, though quite unconsciously on his part; for Mr. Osborn was the most shy and shrinking creature it is possible to imagine, filling a subordinate yet responsible situation. It was this shy and bashful manner, coloured with a degree of pride and reserve, which first won our compassionate attention; and finally a train of minor circumstances threw him more in our way-such as the illness of domestics, for the old doctor always attended "the gentry "-while Mr. Osborn did the inferior work, and night business, often not being in bed for a whole week together. Little kindly attentions, which we were so glad to bestow, and never thought of at the time, were gratefully appreciated by Mr. Osborn, who was keenly sensi tive of his prerogative as a gentleman—a prerogative not accorded to the doctor's drudge by the petty aristocracy of Aldertrees. The position in which he was placed, seemed to us peculiarly trying, when we became more intimately acquainted with the interior workings of the mind, and the melancholy history of this unhappy man. It was indeed a long time ere we could persuade Mr. Osborn to enter our parlour, or to sit down by our cheerful fireside. Silent, and with downcast eyes, he seemed ever intent on the interests and duties of his profession, and to shun all conversation, excepting on matters of business. We had frequently met him on the hills and in the lanes, mounted on the grey pony, whose coat was as shabby and neglected as Mr. Osborn's own; on such occasions he always evinced uneasiness and a dislike of recognition, and went on his lonely way with but scanty protection from winter weather as to his attire, careless alike of cold or heat. There was a sort of reckless, hopeless abandonment in Mr. Osborn's demeanour and appearance, which bore no affinity to the reckless swagger of a person whose character would not bear investigation; it was like the abandonment of one whose mind is suffering from mental pain or despair, and never did a human countenance prove so true an index to what was passing within. His unaffected devotion at Church, when he was permitted the rare boon of attendance there, and affectionate kindness to the poor, in many instances where sympathy was the best medicine to be administered, prepared us to think well of him; but we were not prepared to find in the doctor's drudge, those highly wrought and poetical feelings, delicate perceptions of the beautiful, and refined sensibilities, which only served to render his position more distasteful. We were very curious to know how it was that a gentleman like Mr. Osborn, of good family connections, accomplished mind, and fair average abilities in his profession, should fill such a subordinate situation, and apparently not make the least endeavour to emerge from it, but supinely pass the prime of his years as the obscure, ill-paid assistant of a village surgeon. conversation, as we became better known, showed him to His |