The railroad--Confusion at Malines--Country between Ghent and Dendermonde--_Vilvorde_--_The palace of Laeken_--First view of Brussels--The Grand Place in the old town--The Hôtel de Ville and Maison Communale--The new town--The churches of Brussels--_The carved oak pulpits of the Netherlands_--ST. GUDULE monuments--Statue of Count F. Merode--Geefs, the sculptor--Notre Dame de la Chapelle--_The museum_--Palais de l’Industrie--The gallery of paintings--THE LIBRARY--Its history--_Remarkable MSS._--Curiosities in the museum of antiquities--Private collections--Rue Montagne de la Cour--The theatre--Historical associations with the Hôtel de Ville--Counts Egmont and Horn--The civil commotions of Philip II--_The fountains of Brussels_--The Cracheur--_The mannekin_, his memoirs--Fountain of Lord Aylesbury--Dubos’ restaurant--The hotels of Brussels--Secret to find the cheapest hotels in travelling. WE again availed ourselves of the railroad from Ghent to Brussels, starting from the Monk’s Meadow at eight o’clock in the morning, and made the journey in about three hours and a half. The route is considerably increased in length, owing to the line making an angle in order to traverse Malines, which has been made a centre at which every branch of the entire system converges and take a fresh departure. This arrangement may be a convenience to the directory, but it is an annoyance to the public, not only by the extension of the distance they have to travel, but by the scene of bustle, confusion, and risk created by the concourse of so many trains at the same point, the nuisance and danger of which can hardly be exaggerated; engines bellowing, horns sounding, luggage moving, and crowds rushing to secure their places in the departing train, or to escape from being run over by the one coming in. The aspect of the country was, in all directions, the same--tame, but rich and luxuriant, with vessels toiling along its tributary canals, and here and there the Scheldt making its tortuous windings through long lines of pines and alders. One thing strikes a stranger as singular in this province, the almost total absence of pasture land, and the appearance of no cattle whatsoever in the fields, the ground being found to be more valuable under cultivation, and cattle more economically fed within doors. The railroad passes by some pretty but unimportant villages, such as Wetteren and Auderghem, before arriving at Termonde, more familiarly known to us as the Dendermonde of my Uncle Toby’s military commentaries. At Auderghem, a road turns to the right to Alost, one of the most flourishing towns of East Flanders, and a prosperous seat of the flax and linen trade.