but have a lively remembrance of the hearty aversion with which he spoke of all Academies and academic teaching. On leaving Leys, after a somewhat prolonged call, we strolled out to the old fortifications of the town, built by Vauban, no vestige of which now remains. Here, seated on the grass, 'and warmed by the genial sunshine of spring, we discussed at length all the incidents of our visit, with the appearance and sayings of the painter Baron.
Other artists whom we called on were De Keyser, the president of the Belgian Academy, Verlat, the animal painter, and Van Lerius, who talked in so excitable a manner that we dubbed him De Lirious. He asked had we been to Ghent to see “L’Agneau Pascal” by Van Eyck. “Mon Dieu,” he cried, “c’est magnifique — c’est etonnant — c’est à se mettre aux genoux devant.” But he did not rhapsodise on Leys. “Ah oui! c’est un beau talent, mais il manque des études sérieuses!”
Rubens is the presiding genius of Antwerp, yet, with every admiration of his great and daringly original talent, it is quite possible to have too much of him, as of any good thing. In going round the churches, those pictures which the guides are not sufficiently barefaced to attribute to that fecund master gain a reflected glory in being by “Pietro Pourbus, master (of) Rubens.” On returning of an
