an affluent manufacturing town, near the Prussian frontier, come over in sufficient numbers to make a tolerably brilliant evening.  These meetings take place in the Redoute, a building of moderate dimensions, erected in the heart of the place according to a very general German custom; Wauxhall, the ancient scene of revelry, standing aloof in the fields, deserted and desolate, as does a rival edifice of more recent existence.  The dimensions and style of these structures give one an idea of the former gaiety and magnificence of Spa, though the only use that either is now put to, is to furnish a room for a protestant clergyman to preach in, Sundays.

As health, after all, is the greatest boon of life, we loitered at Spa a fortnight, endeavouring to while away the time in the best way we could.  Short as was our stay, and transient as were the visits, we remained long enough to see that it was an epitome of life.  Some intrigued, some played, and some passed the time at prayer.  I witnessed trouble in one menage, saw a parson drunk, and heard much pious discourse from a captain in the navy!

We got little Ardennes horses, which were constantly parading the streets, led by countrymen in blouses, to tempt us to mount, and took short excursions in the vicinity.  Sometimes we made what is called the tour of the springs; of which there are several, each differing from the others in its medicinal properties, and only one of which is in the village itself, the rest being a mile or more distant.  At other times, we lounged in the shops, admiring and purchasing the beautiful boxes and ornaments that are known as Spa work, and which are merely the wood of the hills, coloured by being deposited for a time in the spring, and then painted and varnished highly.  Similar work is made in other places, but nowhere else as beautifully as here.

At length ennui got the better of the good air and the invigorating water, and I sent for my passport and the horses.  Francois, by this time, was tired of cooking, and he carried the orders for both right joyfully, while my bourgeois received his Napoleons with many handsome expressions of regret, that I dare say were truer than common.  In the mean time we hurried about with our cards of P.P.C.; bidding adieu to some, without the slightest expectation of ever meeting them again, and promising others to renew the acquaintance on the Rhine, or among the Alps, as events might decide.  At half-past eleven all was ready, and shaking hands with two countrymen who came to see us off, we took our places, and dashed away from our menage of a fortnight’s duration, as unceremoniously as we had stepped into it.

The dog-star raged with all its fury, as we drove through the close and pent-up valleys that lie between Spa and Verviers.  At the latter place we began to ascend, until finally we reached a broad and naked height, that overlooked a wide reach of country towards the east.  This was the region that lies around the ancient capital of Charlemagne, and is now a part of what M. de Pradt has described “as a facade thrown before Europe,” or the modern and disjointed kingdom of Prussia.  We reached the frontier on the height of land, where, everything proving to be en regle, we met with no obstruction or delay.