I wish all the foolish days of my life which I have spent at American watering-places thinking I was amused at five changes of dress a day, dinner parties with the thermometer at 90 degrees, etc., could have been given to Ghent and Bruges. What relics of a grand and poetical and useful race! What visions of history! What gems of art and architecture! Why, just one look at the Hotel de Ville in Ghent, with its facade of richest flamboyant Gothic and one of its sides in the Italian Renaissance, is worth two balls at Delmonico's.