It would take a satirist like Dickens or Thackeray to describe the scene when the fat monarch sat down to his mid-day meal, in the presence of whoever might wish to watch the curious spectacle. He conquered enormous quantities of food, but depended on Wellington and Blücher to conquer the army of Napoleon. The forms of sovereignty were none the less carefully observed, as the little court waited day by day for the great event that all men could see was drawing steadily nearer. At last, as the thunder of Napoleon's guns startled the allies from their dance at Brussels, and the tramp of his advancing squadrons shook the fields of Waterloo, this fat little fly on the chariot wheel of European politics prepared once more for flight. Coaches were made ready to carry the entire court to Ostende, where an English vessel awaited them if the battle went against the allies. All day long the horses stood in the courtyard, the drivers whip in hand. History does not record what gastronomic feats His Majesty performed that day, but late at night the tidings came that the Grande Armée was in retreat, and that King Louis could return to his kingdom. Ghent shares with Bruges the glory of being the birthplace of Flemish painting. The famous "Adoration of the Lamb," by the brothers Van Eyck, was ordered by a wealthy burgher of Ghent for the cathedral of St. Bavon--where the greater part of the original work still rests. It was at Ghent that Hubert, the elder brother, planned the masterpiece and completed his share of it. But Ghent also had masters belonging to the early Flemish school whose fame she does not have to share with any other city. One of these was Josse or Justus, usually called Justus of Ghent, who visited Italy in 1468 and there painted several pictures. Another was Hugo Van der Goes who gave promise of becoming as great a master as Jean Van Eyck when he suddenly gave up his chosen profession and entered the Monastery of Rouge-Cloitre, near Bruges. He was admitted to the Guild of Painters at Ghent in 1467, and left the world of action in 1476--eventually becoming insane and dying six years later. There is a story to the effect that he once painted a picture of Abigail meeting David for a burgher of Ghent who lived in a house near the bridge called the Muyderbrugge, and while engaged on this work--which was painted on the wall above a fireplace--fell in love with his patron's daughter. The painting proved a great success, but the stern parents frowned on the suit of the young artist, and the daughter, in despair, entered the convent of the White Ladies known as the Porta Coeli, near Brussels. The house, which was said to have been entirely surrounded by water, has long since disappeared, together with the painting, but the story may be the explanation for the abandonment by the artist of a promising career when he was still in the prime of life. One of the finest pictures in the Modern Gallery at Brussels is that by E.