fine
race; the Austrians peculiar, and less comely, though the women are
often quite handsome; Don Miguel is a little beauty, _very mild and
gentleman-like in his appearance_, though Lady ----, who sat next him at
dinner, on a certain occasion, assured me she saw nothing but blood and
rapine in his countenance! Her father, Lord ----, one of the ablest men
of his time, and one familiar with high political events, gravely
assured me he gave implicit credence to the tales we have heard of the
outrages committed by this prince, and which, if true, render him a fit
subject for the gallows. But I have seen so much of the exaggeration of
factions, that incredulity, perhaps, has got to be a fault with me. I
longed to tell Lord ---- what I had heard, in England, under his very
nose, of himself! Among other absurdities, I had, shortly before this
very conversation, heard a respectable Englishman affirm that such was
the _morgue aristocratique_ of this nobleman, that he compelled his wife
and daughters to walk backwards, in quitting his presence, as is done at
court! This was said of a man, whom I found to be of more simple,
off-hand, unpretending, gentleman-like deportment, whose demeanour had
more of the nice tact which neither offends by superciliousness, nor
wounds by condescension, than that of any other man of rank in England.
To return to our subject;--the Austrian face is, certainly, getting to
be prevalent among the southern catholic families, for all of them are
closely allied to the house of Habsbourg by blood, but I do not see any
more in the _physique_ of the Saxon Dukes than the good old Saxon
stamina, nor aught in the peculiar appearance of the royal branch but an
accident.

[Footnote 21: This excludes Lichtenstein, Monaco, and Greece.]

Three or four days of leisure have enabled us to look very thoroughly at
the exterior of Liege, which is certainly an interesting town, with
lovely environs. There are some very good old houses along the banks of
the river, and a few of the churches are noble edifices. The cathedral
and the church of St. Jaques, in particular, are venerable and
interesting structures; and I stood beneath their lofty arches,
listening to the chants of the choir, and inhaling the odours of the
incense, with a satisfaction that never tires. I sometimes wish I had
been educated a Catholic, in order to unite the poetry of religion with
its higher principles. Are they necessarily inseparable? Is man rea