being my principal aim, I deserted my solitary bank and proceeded on
my journey. Maestricht abounds in Gothic churches, but contains no
temple to Ceres. I was not sorry to quit it, after spending an hour
unavoidably within its walls. Our road was conducted up a
considerable eminence, from the summit of which we discovered a range
of woody steeps, extending for leagues; beneath lay a winding valley,
richly variegated and lighted up by the Maese. The evening sun,
scarcely gleaming through hazy clouds, cast a pale, tender hue upon
the landscape, and the copses, still dewy with a shower that had
lately fallen, diffused the most grateful fragrance. Flocks of sheep
hung browsing on the acclivities, whilst a numerous herd were
dispersed along the river's side. I stayed so long, enjoying this
pastoral scene, that we did not arrive at Liege till the night was
advanced, and the moon risen. Her interesting gleams were thrown
away upon this ill-built, crowded city; and I grieved that gates and
fortifications prevented my breathing the fresh air of the
surrounding mountains.

Next morning (July 6th) a zigzag road brought us, after many descents
and rises, to Spa. The approach, through a rocky vale, is not
totally devoid of picturesque merit, and as I met no cabriolets or
tituppings on the chaufee, I concluded that the waters were not as
yet much visited; and that I should have their romantic environs
pretty much to myself. But, alas, how rudely was I deceived! The
moment we entered up flew a dozen sashes. Chevaliers de St. Louis,
meagre Marquises, and ladies of the scarlet order of Babylon, all
poked their heads out. In a few minutes half the town was in motion;
tailors, confectioners, and barbers thrusting bills into our hands
with manifold grimaces and contortions. Then succeeded a grand entre
of valets de place, who were hardly dismissed before the lodging