READER,perhapsyouwereneverinBelgium?Haplyyoudon’tknowthephysiognomyofthecountry?Youhavenotitslineamentsdefineduponyourmemory,asIhavethemonmine?
Three—nayfour—pictureslinethefour-walledcellwherearestoredformetherecordsofthepast.First,Eton.Allinthatpictureisinfarperspective,receding,diminutivebutfreshlycoloured,green,dewy,withaspringsky,piledwithglitteringyetshowerycloudsformychildhoodwasnotallsunshine—ithaditsovercast,itscold,itsstormyhours.Second,X——,huge,dingythecanvascrackedandsmokedayellowsky,sootycloudsnosun,noazuretheverdureofthesuburbsblightedandsullied—averydrearyscene.
Third,BelgiumandIwillpausebeforethislandscape.Astothefourth,acurtaincoversit,whichImayhereafterwithdraw,ormaynot,assuitsmyconvenienceandcapacity.Atanyrate,forthepresentitmusthangundisturbed.Belgium!nameunromanticandunpoetic,yetnamethatwheneverutteredhasinmyearasound,inmyheartanecho,suchasnootherassemblageofsyllables,howeversweetorclassic,canproduce.Belgium!Irepeattheword,nowasIsitalonenearmidnight.Itstirsmyworldofthepastlikeasummonstoresurrectionthegravesunclose,thedeadareraisedthoughts,feelings,memoriesthatslept,areseenbymeascendingfromtheclouds—haloedmostofthem—butwhileIgazeontheirvapouryforms,andstrivetoascertaindefinitelytheiroutline,thesoundwhichwakenedthemdies,andtheysink,eachandall,likealightwreathofmist,absorbedinthemould,recalledtourns,resealedinmonuments.Farewell,luminousphantoms!
ThisisBelgium,reader.Look!don’tcallthepictureaflatoradullone—itwasneitherflatnordulltomewhenIfirstbeheldit.WhenIleftOstendonamildFebruarymorning,andfoundmyselfontheroadtoBrussels,nothingcouldlookvapidtome.Mysenseofenjoymentpossessedanedgewhettedtothefinest,untouched,keen,exquisite.IwasyoungIhadgoodhealthpleasureandIhadnevermetnoindulgenceofhershadenervatedorsatedonefacultyofmynature.LibertyIclaspedinmyarmsforthefirsttime,andtheinfluenceofhersmileandembracerevivedmylifelikethesunandthewestwind.Yes,atthatepochIfeltlikeamorningtravellerwhodoubtsnotthatfromthehillheisascendingheshallbeholdaglorioussunrisewhatifthetrackbestrait,steep,andstony?heseesitnothiseyesarefixedonthatsummit,flushedalready,flushedandgilded,andhavinggaineditheiscertainofthescenebeyond.Heknowsthatthesunwillfacehim,thathischariotisevennowcomingovertheeasternhorizon,andthattheheraldbreezehefeelsonhischeekisopeningforthe