him with a penknife, and ran away." The man related this with the most perfect coolness. A great black-bearded fellow made our beds here---the ugliest hound I ever saw by way of a chamber-maid.

'A little before we reached Aldea Gallega is the church of Nossa Senhora da Atalaya, where we passed a Romeria. When a foolish man or woman, or any of their children is sick, the sick person, or the parent makes a vow, in case of recovery, to return thanks to the virgin, or whatever saint has been called in upon the occasion, at some church, and the more distant the church, the more meritorious is the pilgrimage, or Romeria. All their neighbours who are bigotted or idle enough to accompany them join the procession, and they collect the rabble from every village that they pass; for the expences of the whole train are paid by the person who makes the vow. The one we passed consisted of eight covered carts full, and above an hundred men, women, and children, on horseback, on mule-back, on ass-back, and on foot. Whenever they approached a town or village, they announced their arrival by letting off rockets. Bag-pipes and drums preceded them, and men and women, half undressed, danced before them along the road. Most of the men were drunk, and many of the women had brought little infants upon this absurd and licentious expedition.

"The image of our Lady of Atalaya was found on the top of a tree, which said tree from that time has distilled a balsam of miraculous medicinal powers. In Septeinber the negroes have a fete at this place which is continued for several days.

"We were fortunate enough to procure a boat immediately; and after a rough and unpleasant passage of two hours landed at Lisbon. I rejoiced at finding myself upon terra firma, and at five o'clock in the morning I was awakened by an earthquake!

'On my passage I was tossed about by the winds and waves, on the road I suffered much for want of fire, and I arrived at Lisbon just in time to hear the house crack over my head in an earthquake. This is the seventh shock that has been felt since the first of November. They had a smart shock on the 17th of this month, but the connoisseurs in earthquakes say, VOL. IV.

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that this last, though of shorter duration, was the most dangerous, for this was the perpendicular shake, whereas the other was the undulatory motion. One person whom I heard of leapt out of bed, and ran immediately to the stable to ride off. Another, more considerately, put out a light that was burning in his room, because (said he) the fire does more mischief than the earthquake.

'A German was invited by an English family here to take pot luck for dinner. He would eat no roast beef, no turkey, all the dishes passed him untouched. "I do vait for dat excellent pote loock," said he. You are in great danger of meeting with pot-luck if you walk these streets by night. Even if you escape extreme unction, announces another danger; there are an astonishing number of dogs here who belong to nobody and annoy every body: these animals fortunately devour great part of what is discharged from the windows, and no sooner do they hear the fall than they run towards it from all quarters, and will nearly throw down the person who is unluckily in their way. The rats, who live among the old ruins, come to partake of the banquet, for these animals live together on the most friendly terms. Many of these dogs have their ears erect.

The filth of this city is indeed astonishing; every thing is thrown into the street; and all the refuse of the kitchen, and dead animals are exposed to these scorching suns. I believe these Portuguese would throw one another out, and "leave the dead to bury the dead," if it were not the interest of the priests to prevent them.

In wet weather the streets of Lisbon are very disagreeable: if you walk under the houses you are drenched by the waterspouts; if you attempt the middle, there is a torrent; would you go between the two, there is a dunghill. When it rains hard some of the streets are like rivers: I have seen the water rushing down the Rua San Bento more than three feet deep. While the stream does not yet fill up the way, some of the more considerate people make a kind of bridge over it, by placing a plank on two blocks or barrels: and at the most frequent crossings the Gallegos stand to carry people across; but sometimes this is impossible, the tide rushes with such

force that no person can stem it. Carriages have been overturned by it in the Rua San Bento, which collects the rain from several hills, and it is not long since a woman was. drowned there.

A man of well cultivated mind will seldom find a woman equal to him while the present execrable system of female education prevails; however if he does not find equality he can make it: woman is a more teachable animal than man: but when the man is inferior to his wife, ignorance, conceit, and obstinacy, form an indivisible trinity in unity, which will for ever prevent his improvement.

Every person here is musical: but it is the mere mechanism of music that they cultivate, which the Spartans so wisely condemned in Timotheus. Your musical amateurs of the present day are accurate with their ears and nimble with their fingers, but there is no harmony in their hearts. They are in raptures at the unmeaning and unmanly quavers of the Italian, but they feel not the sad and simple ballad strains where sense and sound are united. "Music," said Owen Feltham, "being but a sound, only works on the mind for the present, and leaves it not reclaimed but rapt for a while, and then it returns, forgetting the only ear-deep warbles.”

Almost every man in Spain smokes; the Portuguese never smoke, but most of them take snuff. None of the Spaniards will use a wheel-barrow, none of the Portuguese carry a burthen the one says it is only fit for beasts to draw carriages, the other that it is only fit for beasts to carry burthens. All the porters in Lisbon are Gallegos, an industrious and honest race, despised by both nations for the very qualities that render them respectable. When my uncle lived at Porto, he wanted his servant to carry a small box to the next house; the man said he was a Portuguese, not a beast; and actually walked a mile for a Gallego to carry the box.

If you walk the streets of Lisbon by night, it is not only necessary to know the way, but to be well acquainted with all the windings of the little channel that runs between the shoals and mud banks. There are no public lamps lighted except before the image of a saint; and if you have a flambeau

carried before you, you are sometimes pelted by persons who do not wish to be seen. I know an Englishman who has been thus obliged to extinguish his light.

'One of the English residents found the lamp at his door so frequently broken, that at last he placed a saint behind it; the remedy was efficacious, and it has remained safely from that time under the same protection. It is pleasant to meet with one of these enlightened personages, for they are indeed lights shining in darkness.

'But the streets of Lisbon are infested by another nuisance more intolerable than the nightly darkness, or their eternal dirt, the beggars. I never saw so horrible a number of wretches made monstrous by nature, or still more monstrous by the dreadful diseases that their own vices have contracted. You cannot pass a street without being sickened by some huge tumor, some mishapen member, or uncovered wound, carefully exposed to the public eye. These people should not be suffered to mangle the feelings and insult the decency of the passenger if they will not accept the relief of the hospital, they should be compelled to endure the restraint of the prison.

This city is supplied only from hand to mouth; in bad weather when the boats cannot pass from Alentego, the markets are destitute; a few days ago there was no fuel to be procured. The provisions here are in general good, and of late years they have introduced the culture of several English vegetables. It is not twenty years since a cauliflower was a pretty present from England, and the person who received it made a feast; it is now one of the best productions of the Portuguese garden. The potatoe does not succeed here. Mutton is the worst meat they have; a leg of mutton is a very agreeable present from Falmouth, but the other passengers generally conspire against it, summon a court martial on false suspicions, produce the accused, whose appearance produces a sentence of condemnation.

Every kind of vermin that exists to punish the nastiness and indolence of men, multiplies in the heat and dirt of Lisbon. From the worst and most offensive of these, cleanfiness may preserve the English resident; but Apollo might

have saved himself the trouble of fleaing Marsyas if he had condemned him to walk these streets! The musquitoe is a more formidable enemy; if you read at night in summer, it is necessary to wear boots. The scolopendra is not uncommonly found here, and snakes are frequently seen in the bed-chamber. I know a lady who after searching a long time for one that had been discovered in her apartment, seen the reptile wreathed round the serpentine fluting of the bed-post.

'Lisbon is likewise infested by a very small species of red ant that swarm over every thing sweet; the Portuguese remedy is to send for a priest and exorcise them. The superstition of this people in an age of incredulity is astonishing: about sixteen years ago one of the royal musicians here died in the odour of sanctity; though if the body of the dead gentleman did emit a delightful fragrance, it is more than any of his living countrymen do. When the image of the virgin Mary is carried through the streets, some of the devout think they catch her eyes, and exclaim in rapture, "Oh! she looked at me-the blessed virgin looked at me!"

We had a little snow on the 29th of February. A Portuguese clerk, who was going out on business when it began, refused to leave the counting-house, because he did not under, stand that kind of weather. It is fourteen years since the last snow fell at Lisbon. Dr. H. was in his chaise when it began, the driver leapt off: you may get home how you can, said he, as for my part I must make the best use I can of the little time this world will last, and away he ran into the next church.

'One of the Irish priests here preached a sermon in English a few days ago it was extempore, and like most extempore sermons, consisted of a little meaning expressed in every possible variety of indifferent language. In the middle of his discourse the orator knelt down, the congregation knelt with him, and he besought St. Patrick to inspire him; but alas! either he was talking or sleeping, or peradventure St. Patrick was in Ireland, for the sermon went on as stupidly as before.

When I first found myself in a land of strangers whose conversation presented nothing to me but a confusion of unintelligible sounds, I was frequently tempted to execrate the