paintings. His Christ Dead is beautiful, wherein are contained the Blessed Virgin, St. Mary Magdalene, and St. John weeping: the different expressions of grief, the unison of colouring with the subject, the composition, all excellent.
From the Cathedral we went to see the works of Napoleon. We first saw the Basins. They are not so large as our West India Docks—square—but are capable of holding ships of the line; there are two. Between them is what was formerly the Hanseatic Hall, now magazines. When the English were last here they threw bombs, but this was of no avail; dung was put upon the ships, and men were at hand in case of fire. From the Basins we went along the quays—very long, along the labouring Scheldt; then into the places for marine arsenals, where the vessels were on the stocks—the finest works I ever saw, now useless through our jealousy. The rope-house, quite finished, is enormously long, and is to be pulled down. The timbers for the ship were numbered, and carried to Amsterdam. The citadel was mean-looking, though so strong. The chief batteries are as old as Alva's time—there was one pointed out as erected by Colonel Crawford. Before Napoleon's time there was little done towards the formation of these basins and others; but, said our guide, "he decreed they should be made, and they
