BROUGHT into close comparison, by its immediate contiguity to the Rhine, with the farfamed beauties of that celebrated river, the Meuse scarcely commands the admiration which is merited by the picturesque character of the scenery on its banks. More favourably situated, and removed from the vicinity of a rival whose natural charms are heightened by a thousand romantic associations which cling around every ruined castle, and give an indescribable interest to every relic of the past upon its shores, the Meuse would be regarded as eminently attractive, and calculated amply to repay the curiosity of the traveller, whose inclination might lead him to voyage upon its waters. But at present few deem it worthy of their notice; and it is but seldom that any one wandering from the beaten track which fashion has marked out for the pursuit of the tourist, seeks for himself the enjoyment which may be derived from the contemplation of the calm and romantic beauties of its scenery.

A very prominent reason for this may perhaps be discovered, in a cause which exercises a great influence over the general character of European travelling, and

6

THE TOWER OF CREVE-COEUR.

induces the neglect of many choice specimens of nature's loveliness, in themselves eminently worthy of observation. A superficial observer-or one who judged only from the promptings of his own common sense-might be inclined to believe that the host of travellers who every year quit their homes in England, and betake themselves in such vast numbers to continental countries, are actuated by a desire to exchange the turmoil and anxiety of business, and the perpetual bustle of metropolitan existence, for the peaceful repose of sylvan retirement; and are animated in their wanderings by a fervent love of nature, and an earnest and enthusiastic admiration of the wondrous beauties of creation, displayed in the scenery of the various lands towards which their footsteps are directed. But if we admit that such motives influence one among ten of these annual travellers, we shall be probably conceding something far beyond the truth. Fashion-and fashion alone-is the goddess, at whose shrine they make offer of their pilgrimage: the custom of their genteel neighbours, is probably the strongest motive which induces their departure from their homes. Were it otherwise, they might, in many cases, save themselves much expensive journeying, and obtain, at infinitely less cost, an equal share of real enjoyment. Among those who migrate to the Continent with every summer, and expose themselves to all the inconveniences and annoyances of long and fatiguing journeys, and inns which possess but few attributes of comfort, according to English notions, there are generally a vast number to whom their own land is absolutely terra incognita, with the exception, perhaps, of the immediate vicinity of their own country-seats, and, it may be, the neighbourhood of their shooting-boxes on the Scottish moors. At the distance of a day's journey from the metropolis, they might find themselves in the centre of scenery of surpassing beauty, rendered more capable of enjoyment by its association with all the nameless comforts of home. But it is not the fashion to visit English scenery, something of vulgarity attaching to the admiration of anything of domestic growth; so the slave of custom hastens to the Continent, hurries over the prescribed route, grumbling as he goes at the absence of the luxuries which habit has caused to become absolute necessaries of existence, and returns to England with the proud satisfaction that he has performed the fashionable tour, and thus preserved, for that year at least, his claims to the character of gentility.

By such travellers, the Meuse is accordingly passed by, and the more famous attractions of the Rhine absorb all their admiration. But the tourist who is really in search of picturesque beauties, will find in this scenery much that will amply repay his examination.

The ruins of the castle of Crève-Cœur are seated in a spot of extreme and romantic loveliness. The crumbling walls, still retaining sufficient distinctness of outline to impart to them a picturesque effect, standing on the summit of a lofty precipice, which frowns upon the road winding immediately at its base; the bold and rugged character of the immediately surrounding scenery, contrasting admirably with the smooth current of the river which glides serenely by, sparkling in the sunshine; and the town and fortress of Dinant in the distance, filling up the background of the picture-forms altogether a coup-d'œil of the most striking beauty, and one upon which the eye reposes