Great as is the extent of ground on which this city stands, it is nevertheless very well built, and extremely populous. It is ornamented with no fewer than seven squares, all of them remarkably fine, particularly the great square or market-place, which is reckoned to be perhaps the finest in Europe. Around it are the halls of the different trades, the fronts of which are adorned, in a superb manner, with emblematical sculpture, with gilding, and a variety of Latin inscriptions. One quarter of this square is entirely occupied by the town-houses, a noble pile of building, in which there were apartments where the States of Brabant met, finely adorned with tapestry in gilt frames, and some admirable original paintings. At the time I was there, the whole city was in motion, preparing for the Inauguration of the Emperor, who was then impatiently expected, and whose approach made such a bustle, and promised such a spectacle, as made me regret the necessity I lay under of proceeding on my journey. The town-house was put into the highest order, and subsequently fell a sacrifice to the great and important event for which it was prepared.
The steeple of this building is of a most stupendous height——three hundred and sixty-four feet; and on the top of it is erected a statue of Saint Michael killing the Dragon, of the enormous height of seventeen feet: this Colossal statue is so constructed as to serve for a weather-cock; and being made of copper, well gilt, is at once conspicuous, magnificent, and ornamental.
The public buildings of Brussels, particularly the Palaces and Courts of the several Princes, Counts, and other persons of distinction, (and, you may be sure, the Churches and Cloisters too), are spacious, expensive, and magnificent. Behind the Imperial Palace, which stood in the highest part of the city, but was burnt down many years ago, is a park, well stocked with deer, and planted with trees, like St. James’s-park at London, for the inhabitants to walk in. At the farther end of it is a fine pleasure-house, built by the Emperor Charles the Fifth, after his abdication.
The Palace is a magnificent structure: the rooms of it are finished in a style far superior to those of any Palace in England, and enriched with many fine paintings: that of the Family of Hector, in the Council Chamber, lays claim to the first rank of eminence. Of the other buildings (the grandeur of which entitle them to the names of Palaces), those of the Prince de la Tour and Taxis, and the British Earl of Aylesbury, are distinguished by great beauty and magnificence. Indeed, in all the Palaces, there are collections of original paintings, by the most eminent masters, both Italian and Flemish.
The Royal Library of Brussels claims particular attention, for the magnitude and liberality of its establishment, containing a grand collection of the most excellent books in all languages, and being open all the year on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, to public access.
The Arsenal of Brussels is extremely well worth going to see, on account of the very curious antique arms it contains——of which it is, at this distance of time, impossible for me to give you any account worth attention. The armour of the Emperor Charles the Fifth, together with the furniture of his horse, and state sword, are shewn: I could see nothing either novel or interesting in them——a strong mark; I presume, of my want of taste; but I confess my organs are not so refined as to feel any extraordinary emotions at the sight of a heap of inert matter, merely because it once enveloped the carcase of a Tyrant: neither were they so very coarse or dull as not to undergo very pointed sensations at the sight of the armour of Montezuma, the injured Emperor of Mexico, the victim of avarice and rapine, under their usual mask, religion. Why Montezuma’s armour should make a part of the trophies of a Popish State, and be triumphantly exhibited, is hard to account for in human folly: why that should be exhibited which is a stain of the deepest-damned black, in their black code of faith, is astonishing, unless we allow the truth of the old saying, “Quos Deus vult perdere, prius dementat;” and that, after having violated every principle of virtue, morality, and human feeling——after having surpassed in cruelty all that we know of the worst monsters of the earth, or of the deep, the fell hyena, or the ravening shark——after having successfully emulated the worst efforts of the most malignant spirits that are said to hold counsel for the ruin of Mankind in Hell——they were desirous to transmit the spoils of their ravages to posterity, to tell them what glorious things have been achieved in days of yore, for the love of Christ——to demonstrate what benefits are to be derived from a religion which has, for so many hundred years, given sanction to every enormity that strikes the soul of Man with horror, and thereby to make converts to their principles. Monsters! fools! Away with your idle cants, ye hypocrites, who would brand the cruelties of the present days, the massacres of the Jacobins, with the crime of infidelity, and attribute those much lamented defections from humanity to a falling off from the Christian Faith. Look to Mexico!——see a monster, a High Priest of your religion, collecting, by fair promises and sweet persuasion, a people round him; and, when a plain was filled, commanding his bloodhounds, armed with sword and crucifix, to fall upon and murder them——because one poor creature, who knew not what a book meant, had accidentally dropped a bible from his hands!——see him not sparing age or sex, but butchering all, for the love of Christ!——When have the deluded and enfrenzied mob of France perpetrated, in the full torrent of popular frenzy, such atrocities as this cruel Priest committed in cold blood? when have they hunted down their fellow-creatures, massacred children, and given their yet panting members to their dogs for food, as pious Christians, headed by a pious Priest, have done in Mexico? Never! never!—— Learn wisdom, then, ye hypocrites! and if you cannot convince your enemies by reason, or conquer them by force, and if their predatory and wicked progress is not to be stopped, do not sanctify their enormities, or palliate their crimes, in the eye of reason, by a comparison with those of a deeper dye: remember, that “not to be the worst stands in some rank of praise,” and that the Jacobin cruelties of Paris, horrible though they were, were pity and tender mercy, compared with the Christian butchery in Mexico, in Europe, in Asia, in every place where Popery ever set its bloody hoof.
You are not, from what I say, to infer that I entertain any illiberal animosity to Popery, as many men, and more women, do, merely because its articles of Faith differ from those in which I was bred; I trust my heart and understanding are above such very degrading prejudices: but I abhor every thing that militates against human happiness——every thing that crushes the operations of intellect——every thing that stops the current of opinion, and prevents its course from enlarging and meliorating our condition: I abhor the impertinent and hypocritical intrusion of all Churchmen upon national or domestic concerns; the more, when that intrusion is mischievous; and more still, when it assumes the mask of piety——for that is at once a fraud upon Man and an abuse of God. All those causes of abhorrence attach, more or less, to all sects of the Christian Religion, the Quakers only excepted——but to Popery rather more than to any of the others; for it is observed, that while the very first principles of Christianity, as originally laid down in theory, are peace and good-will towards men, warfare, persecution and bloodshed, have practically marked its footsteps wherever it has trod, and its very essence been perverted by its own Ministers, who, entrusted with the key of the Temple, steal the vestments from the altar, to cover the deformed, crooked back of vice. But the rays of dawning reason now break with fuller light upon Mankind; and it hastens to meridian resplendence, before which those phantoms raised by pious jugglers will vanish, and, “like the baseless fabric of a vision, leave not a wreck behind.”