"We saw the Flagellation of Christ in a small apartment of the church of the Dominicans at Antwerp, where a young man was engaged in copying it. It was in a corner of the room, and in a bad light; but I was too much delighted to find fault with it, if indeed there were any to be found. I must remark, however, that the cords with which he is smitten seem too small perhaps the artist had the idea in his head of Christ's making a scourge of small cords when he drove the money-changers from the temple. One of the figures, it is true, holds a scourge, or rather birch, in his hand; but neither this nor the other could, I think, make such bloody marks as are represented on his body." So end Mr. Bray's notes. I will but add, that whilst at Antwerp we visited the museum, and all the principal churches and pictures, walked on the banks of the Scheld, and viewed the famous Calvary, situated in the very heart of Antwerp. It is intended to represent the crucifixion of our Lord. The whole is on an immense scale. The cross, with the image nailed upon it, and the figures by which it is surrounded, are all in the open air. This spot is much resorted to by the devotees of the Roman Catholic Church. Many may be seen on their knees praying intently before the images. I have heard many Romanists say, there is no idolatry in this kind of worship; but it is certainly very like it, too like it for an ordinary mind to comprehend the distinction. At the post-office of Antwerp we found a letter from my nephew. It was indeed most welcome. We obtained it on producing our passport, as it was prudently and cautiously withheld from us till this was done. No one, but those who have experienced it, can conceive the delight of receiving a letter from a friend whilst wandering among strangers in a foreign land. After reading our letter we sallied forth to see the principal streets of this most picturesque old town, so characteristic of a great commercial city of the middle ages, and still retaining so much to remind one of ancient times. The lofty and old Gothic houses, some with their strong iron gratings before the windows, and in others mir rors fixed close to them on the outside, so that those within the rooms may see every person who passes up or down the street; the women wearing their long black silk mantles; the images of saints and virgins, constantly meeting the eye; the Gothic churches; the Calvary; and the priests and Beguine nuns, that you so often pass in the town, - all these things and beings seem to the English observer to be of other days than his own, and altogether combine to render Antwerp one of the most striking towns that be isits in the whole of his continental tour. taste. Whilst staying at the hotel we tasted for the first time boar's head — it was brought to table gaily garlanded with flowers. It is very delicious, but too rich for any thing more than a Never shall I forget what I suffered from high nervous irritation whilst at Antwerp — for the noise in our hotel exceeded all the noises I had ever heard, even on the Continent: it was incessant, day and night. Our apartment was close to the street in front of the house, and only separated by a wall from the entrance archway under the great gates. Day and night therefore, arrivals and departures, bells ringing, knocking, even thundering on the gates, porters calling, carriages shaking and rolling in and out, carts and trucks trundling and rumbling, postilions cracking their whips, and conducteurs bawling and scolding, horses trampling and snorting, — altogether it was dreadful; never, never shall I forget the two nights I went to bed in that room of unquiet repose. I did not, and could not sleep ten minutes together on either night; and was at last so worn out with fatigue, and irritated by constantly being disturbed and aroused at the very moment I was endeavouring to take rest, that I was glad to get up at four o'clock in the morning, to be in readiness to start by the diligence for Amsterdam, as we had decided on spending the last week of our time in Holland. Of our flying visit to that country you shall hear something in my next letter. In the interval, I am, as ever, My dear Brother, Your most affectionate Sister, ANNA ELIZA BRAY. LETTER XXXVI. TO A. J. KEMPE, ESQ., F.S.A. · Cities. Ancient Route from Antwerp to Amsterdam. - Breda. - Canals. Summer Houses. Cows. Butter. Canals. Trechshuitens. The Sexagenarian's Account of his Journey and Adventures, and of his first Impressions on the Sight of Amsterdam. His ArTable d'Hôte.— rival at the Inn in that City. Dutch Concert; and "A Chose à voir." Palace. Breakfast. Rattle. The Dust-cart. The The old Watchman's The Museum. — The most remarkable Pictures in that Collection. My dear Brother, My husband has made so many notes concerning the portion of our journey on which we are now about to enter, and I have made so few, that I shall do little more than insert extracts from his note-book. Sometimes you will see he alludes to myself; and in all such passages I beg you will consider that I am not answerable for his doing so. I suggested, therefore, |