cavaliers are rather too "finished" in the style of performance, suggesting the artistic manner of the dancing-master who does all his steps. With these contrast favourably our English gentlemen, whose solid, business-like style, far removed from airy skipping, shows confidence and reserve. The true weakness of the English breaks out on their feeling that they are "all our own set," that is, when two or three strange families, acquaintances at home, meet on this ground, recruited by stragglers picked up at the table d'hôte. It is amazing what a transformation is thus effected in our retiring natures, which become eager, excited, and even rampant. There is dancing together, gambling together, and driving together-all "our own set, you know"; and in this confidence we perform such antics as might not only make the gods weep, but, what is more to the purpose, their fellowcountrymen heartily ashamed. It is not pleasant to see "our set, you know," standing up—a small band-to show the foreigners how we dance Lancers at home, and falling into disorder, to the unconcealed amusement of those benighted creatures, and finally breaking down and breaking up in the midst of a figure, to a round of ironical applause and a chorus, Qu'ils sont grotesques, ces messieurs!" "Que ces Anglaises sont drôles!" Our English repair valiantly to church, a small band every Sunday, and perform their devotions at the old ball- or supper-room in the disused Wauxhall. However, efforts are being made to get together money for a more suitable temple, and the Government has promised some assistance. It is impossible to pass by this quaint old structure late in the evening -its dark old trees clustered about it, its lanky old-fashioned railings, its long windows, dusty roof and deserted courtyard, the light little town twinkling far below-without thinking of the older glories of the balls, ridottos, and gambling that went on here, night after night, during the last century. We walk in through its torn courtyard, overgrown with weeds, its choked fountains in the centre, and find the door open, the spacious stair somewhat rickety, up which once rustled silks and hoops, and look through the glass door into the ballroom, with its floridly painted ceiling and panels.

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One of the most interesting recollections was the seeing Meyerbeer at one of these "offered concerts" at the Wauxhall. The composer, as we know, was passionately fond of Spa, and rarely failed to come with his family every year. I see his little old shrivelled figure the Jewish dried face-the shabby old clothes and well-worn umbrella. He walked in a very earnest, quaint way, his head thrown back, and evidently in a perpetual reverie. It was impossible not to follow him with interest, and the figure, old-fashioned and shabby as

was, might be called picturesque. He was fond of donkey-riding, and was partial to an animal which the simple natives, meaning a high compliment, called "Meyerbeer." I have a little sketch of him made at this season, which presents him faithfully. But to return to our "Wauxhall Concert." I could fancy how odious it must have been to him to attend, and it was only from his liking for the place that he yielded. What a sensation and delirious applause as he entered the old faded Salle, and was led to his place " encumbered with help" from "stewards" needlessly numerous ! tall, very stout basso and a rather screaming soprano, who, as a special compliment, were to give the famous Duo from the "Huguenots." This must have been torture to the sensitive nerves of the old man, who could not help wincing at each shriek. Worse, he had to compliment at the close. Still, there was something genuine in the whole thing, and he could not have been displeased.

There were a

Interesting as our little place is from its own personal attractions, it is almost more so from its extraordinary historical associations. Few places can boast such a pedigree or such a line of remarkable visitors. Having been in "high fashion" for a couple of centuries, it seems to have drawn to itself an almost unique collection of dis. tinguished guests; and as its registers have been carefully preserved, we are enabled to follow their successors with perfect accuracy. One of the earliest was Guicciardini, and in 1545 the Venetian Augustini, who was physician to our own Henry VIII. In 1545 we find Marguerite of Navarre here, though it has been doubted whether she went beyond Liège, whence she came on a visit to the Prince Bishop. Another account has it that the badness of the roads interfered with the journey. Alexander of Parma, the famous general, Lipsius, the scholar, and Descartes (in 1640), are notable names. Five years later the philosopher prescribed the waters to the Prince Palatine as a remedy for some particular sorrow from which he was suffering: "For which," he wrote, "I deem the waters of Spa extremely suitable, particularly if your Highness follow the direction of the doctors, viz., to dismiss all melancholy thoughts, and even all serious reflections and scientific inquiries, simply employing yourself in doing. little more than gazing on the colour of a flower, the bird in its flight, and such matters, which require no attention."

In July, 1654, the wanderer, afterwards Charles II., arrived, and stayed a month with his sister, the widow of the Prince of Orange. It was the custom, up to the time of the Revolution, to mark houses where illustrious or notable persons had put up, with a shield bearing their arms and escutcheons, and this gave a sort of

quaint air of originality to the buildings. A few are still left, such as the Hôtel d'Espagne, close to the church, where the exile has often stayed. To give a dramatic tone to the place, there came, in 1655, Queen Christina with the ill-fated Monaldeschi, and of the party was also Saumaise, or Salmasius, the scholar; another luckless visitor was Gustavus III. and his Minister Ankerström, and the Emperor Joseph II., who arrived with that "monkey in powder," the Abbé Raynal. At the same time there was the Marshal Richelieu, who gave the place the happy name of "Café de l'Europe "--the Emperor, however, to his annoyance, gave the Abbé precedence-Lauzun, who had found his way here, where he had a curious adventure, described in his memoirs, with Princess Czartoriska. In the present century we hear of Egalité, of his son Louis Philippe, the Count d'Artois, and others of distinction.

But all these personages pale their fires before one name-that of Peter the Great, who is the glory of the place, and whose memorable visit is suggested at every turn. As the visitor crossed the Place in the morning to quaff his glass of Pouhon, he used to see, on the pediment of the humble yet pretentious portico, an inscription in large characters, to the effect that all before him is "to the memory of the great Peter;" while under its shelter, fixed in the wall, is a large shield, of blue marble in a florid scroll of alabaster, and which offers this modest and patronising inscription, the tablet being a present and token of gratitude sent by the august Czar:—

Peter the First, by the Grace of God,

Emperor of Russia,

The pious, the successful, the invincible;
Who, having first established military discipline
Amongst his troops,

And taken care that the arts and sciences
Should flourish throughout his dominions;
Having armed, moreover, according to his own
Will and pleasure,

A very powerful fleet of men of war,
And augmented his armies beyond number;
Having secured, likewise, all his hereditary
Estates and conquests,

More completely than ever, even by the dint of war;
Determined to travel thro' all the

European countries;

And having apprized himself of their customs and manners,
He first visited France, Namur, and Liège,
And from thence steered his course to the Spa,
As to the haven of health,

Where having drunk, with surprising success,
Her salutary mineral waters,

More especially those which were administered
By the advice of his physicians,

At the celebrated fountain of Géronstère,
He perfectly recovered his pristine strength, and
state of health,

In the year 1717, on the 23rd of July;
And before his return to his own empire, he went
Into Holland, and from thence sent hither
This his eternal monument of gratitude to
Heaven

For his happy restoration, in the year
MDCCXVIII.

This inscription is engraved upon a large block or table of black marble. The characters, which were originally cut and covered with gold, were afterwards, upon their decay, painted only in white, that they might more easily and conspicuously be discerned upon a black ground. This monument, or table, is surmounted with a grand circular frame or escutcheon of alabaster, on which are carved in bas-relief the imperial arms of his czarian majesty, with their several quarters and proper attributes. "The upper part of the escutcheon is enriched with a cornish, or cornice, in tympane, composed of marble, diversified with various colours; the block, or table, is embellished on each side with two beautiful consoles, or shouldering pieces, of the finest alabaster; the whole, standing on a basis, or pedestal, of variegated marble, is fixed likewise on two consoles, or supporters, of alabaster; and the back is composed of black marble. The various beautiful colours, and the symmetry and proportion of all the parts, in short, which are enriched with a very magnificent structure, constitute such an artful and elegant monument, as has its peculiar merit and uncommon beauties, exclusive of the illustrious personage who conferred the honour of it upon the inhabitants of the Spa.”

The gayest picture of Spa is presented by the lively and observant Mr. Twining, who travelled on the Continent before the Revolution. He describes Spa as literally abounding in princes and other great personages, who brought with them all their state, suites, &c.; and the very pastoral character of the place seemed to prompt a display of the most extravagant and eccentric kind. There was seen the Prince of Orange entering the town in his great State coach and six, which rumbled through the tiny streets followed by six phaetons and pairs. When he went of a morning to drink the waters at the Géronstère, running footmen went before his coach, while mounted gentlemen of his Court rode beside him. At the same time were seen the Princess Stolberg, mother to the Pretender's wife; the Duke and Duchess of Arenberg; while the Prince de Ligne attracted atten

tion by galloping through the streets at full speed mounted on a little Spa hack, laughing and chattering immoderately. A notable form too was the Baron de Händel, a Strasbourg nobleman, who brought with him innumerable carriages, running footmen, and a negro, who were continually appearing in fresh fancy dresses-now like Turks, now arrayed in gold and satins-the black "carrying three watches." There were English nobles in plenty: it was reported that the Duke of Chandos, "who had the privilege of saying anything to anybody without offence," bluntly asked the Emperor of Austria "why he didn't marry." Another singular character was the Nuncio from Brussels.

The chief attraction of this Café de l'Europe has always been the gaming, which, up to a recent period, had gone on for a century and more. This drew to the place all the adventurers, the knights of industry, and "unclassed characters of Europe"; and there was something in this contrast between the innocent pastoral air of the retired valley, with its simple peasants, "Annette and Lubin," and the rest, and the disorderly crew who filled the town. We may find in the vile chronicles of Casanova sketches of the sort of characters that resorted to the place, who could only live their life "on their wits," as it was leniently called—that is, by swindling others. In this extraordinary book there are many scenes described of the life at Spa, which seems to have been the paradise of adventurers, owing to its demure air and retiring graces. A certain "Chevalier Hay," a Scotch gentleman, is credited with being the first who introduced gambling, establishing regular "rooms" for the purpose, and also "an English club." The magistrates, seeing that the taste for play drew so many strangers, wished to develop it as a permanent institu

There was one of those curious, long-abolished potentates-a Prince Bishop of Augsburg-who fancied the little town, and had repaired to it regularly for more than fifteen years. He had planted the pretty promenade known as that of the "Sept Heures," one of the most attractive spots in the place. At his intercession the "Suzerain," the Cardinal Prince Bishop of Liège, graciously accorded the town a privilege for holding gaming tables, and the magistrates set to work on the Redoute, which is still to be seen. Strange to say, however, the townsfolk were found to have more decency than their rulers; and, in the face of their pecuniary interests, they set up a vehement opposition to the new scheme. In May, 1763, they forwarded to their sovereign a formal protest against the demoralising benefit offered them. So hostile was their attitude that the magistrates were glad to dispose of their scheme-70,000 francs had already been