I spare you our visit to the Cathedral, &c., but I wish, my dear C., I could show you the most fantastical pulpit ever made: the master-piece of VerBruggen, with the story of Adam and Eve carved in wood. I am sure the artist had his own private readings of his work. There seemed to me some precious satire in the symbol he has perched about the pulpit—the monkey! the peacock! and the serpent!
We went into the market-place this morning. It was filled with well-looking peasants, with good teeth and rich nice hair. They were selling flowers, fruit, and vegetables. They addressed us in a very kindly manner, always as "ma chère." We saw excellent batter for ten sous per pound, a good cabbage for two sous, two quarts of beans for four sous.
This market-square, now looking so cheerful with the fruits of man's rural industry, has been stained with the blood of martyrs of liberty. It was here that Counts Egmont and Horn were executed by the order of the ruthless Alva; and in the Hotel de Ville, overlooking the square, we saw the hall where his master, Charles V., went through the ceremony of abdication.
We pay here, for a good carriage and two horses, two francs per hour. Some difference, M. remarks, between tins and the price we paid in London of one pound twelve shillings per day; but nowhere. I believe, is social life so taxed as in London.
