versation, in a manner so extraordinary, that D*** and I can with great difficulty refrain from laughing. If, in answer to our inquiries, the worthy Major happens to state any thing which is not exactly accordant with the butler's ideas, he cries out-" O, no, Sir, you are much mistaken, you forget that so and so is the case." The good Major, instead of appearing annoyed, or desiring him to be silent, hears with great patience all he has to say, and then vindicates himself; this produces an animated rejoinder from the butler, followed by a long argumentation between them, in which they generally manage to lose sight of the original question.

I do not think that the priests here make so many processions as in the other towns in Portugal, though, perhaps, it is only the wet weather which keeps them within doors.

The tutelar saints of Castel Branco hold rather a dangerous post. They are, according to Brydone, as liable to be turned out of place as the Lords of the Treasury are at home. In his Tour through Sicily and Malta, that author says " "That the people of Castel Branco were so enraged at St. Antonio, for allowing the Spaniards to plunder their town, contrary, as they affirmed, to his express agreement with them, that they broke many of his

statues to pieces; and one that had been more revered than the rest, they took the head off, and clapped on one of St. Francis in its place; whose name the statue ever afterwards retained. I have not heard who is at present at the head of the sainthood here. I know it cannot be St. Dennis.

I forgot to tell you that this town is well supplied with excellent game of all descriptions-hares, red-legged partridges, quails, &c. are both plentiful and cheap.

LETTER XXX.

VILLAGE OF ATALAYA.-JEWS IN PORTUGAL. AN ACCIDENT.-VAL DE PRAZERAS.-A NEW SUBJECT FOR AN ARTIST.-SINGULAR NE

GOTIATION.

Campinha, 14th November, 1808.

WE left Castel Branco yesterday morning, and after a wet ride of four leagues, reached Atalaya, a small povoa or village, where we slept. Notwithstanding the external appearance of the houses, we were very comfortably lodged, and had the luxury of a good brasero to dry our clothes.

Our landlord, who appeared to be an intelligent man, entered into discourse respecting the state of public affairs. In the course of his conversation, he was very liberal in abusing a description of men, whom he called the new Christians, which, he told us, was the name by which the Jews in Portugal are now known. All these people here,

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as you perhaps know, have apparently conformed to the tenets of the Catholic church, but are, it is suspected, as rank Israelites in their hearts as ever. Some travellers have stated, that wherever, in Portugal, you observe a house more than usually adorned with crucifixes and holy pictures, you may safely conclude that the owner follows the precepts of the Mosaic law.

Our landlord informed us that Castel Branco abounds with these new Christians, who, during the tyranny of the French, were their agents in carrying on a system of espionage on their fellow citizens; and were extremely useful to the French commissaries, in procuring them provisions, forage, and supplies of all kinds for their army.

One of these Jews, now in Castel Branco, is lately returned from Madrid, where he had been taken up on the expulsion of King Joseph. Another Jew bailed him for a considerable sum, and has since been executed, in consequence of the flight of the Jew of Castel Branco. This is the circumstance as I heard it, but I cannot vouch for its truth.

My friend D** * has suffered much inconvenience from the breaking down of a small cart, on which he had transported his baggage from Lisbon, as far as Atalaya. By

the time we reached Castel Branco, the mule which dragged it along was much fatigued, and had become sadly excoriated on the shoulder, from the pressure of the collar. I therefore lent him one of my horses, to assist in bringing on the cart. The horse was put in harness in front, and the two animals set off together in the greatest possible harmony.

We were just mounting our horses and setting off, very well pleased with the arrangement, when the poor Gallego who drove the cart returned, tearing his hair, and making a most dismal noise, exclaiming he was ruined. I was at first afraid that my horse; a Spanish stallion, had kicked and broken some of his bones; but on riding immediately forward to the place, I found that, on going up a small hill, the horse had become restive, and backed upon the mule, which had overturned the cart into a deep hollow by the side of the road. Fortunately neither of the animals were at all injured, and of the cart, only one shaft was broken. However, on enquiring for a carpenter, we learnt, to our extreme mortification, that it would be necessary to send either to Alpedrinha, or a village named Val de Prazeras, a distance of four miles, as no mechanic lived in Atalaya. After some deliberation, we determined to take the fractured machine to the latter village, as it lay more directly in our road; and having, by the assistance of the

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