the latter has manifested itself in the ornamentation of
the ecclesiastical edifices throughout Flanders, and indeed this fact is
very evident to the travelers in this region. The people of Malines
jealously retained the integrity of their ancient tongue, and many books
in the language were published here. Associations abounded in the town
banded together for the preservation of Flemish as a language. On fete
days these companies, headed by bands of music, paraded the streets,
bearing large silken banners on which, with the Lion of Flanders, were
inscriptions such as "Flanders for the Flemish," and "Hail to our
Flemish Lion." On these occasions, too, the chimes in St. Rombauld were
played by a celebrated bell-ringer, while the square below the tower was
black with people listening breathlessly to the songs of their
forefathers, often joining in the chorus, the sounds of the voices
carrying a long distance. On the opposite side of the square, in the
center of which was a fine statue of Margaret of Austria, adjoining the
recently restored "Halles," a fine building in the purest Renaissance
was being constructed, certainly a credit to the town, and an honor to
its architect, attesting as it did the artistic sense and prosperity of
the people. This, too, lies now in ashes--alas!

Flanders fairly bloomed, if I may use the expression, with exquisite
architecture, and this garden spot, this cradle of art, as it has well
been called, is levelled now in heaps of shapeless ruin.

[Illustration: Malines: A Quaint Back Street]

Certainly in this damp, low-lying country the Gothic style flourished
amazingly, and brought into existence talent which produced many
cathedrals, town halls, and gateways, the like of which were not to be
found elsewhere in Europe. These buildings, ornamented with lace-like
traceries and crowded with statuary, their interiors embellished with
choir screens of marvelous detail wrought in stone, preserved to the
world the art of a half-forgotten past, and these works of incomparable
art were being cared for and restored by the State for the benefit of
the whole world. Here, too, in Malines was a most quaint "Beguinage," or
asylum, in an old quarter of the town, hidden away amid a network of
narrow streets: a community of gentle-mannered, placid-faced women, who
dwelt in a semi-religious retirement after the ancient rules laid down
by Sainte Begga, in little, low, red-roofed houses ranged all about a
grass-