the force of the vessel ploughing through it sent the spray high into the air, which, splashing down with torrents of rain over the deck, produced as wild an effect as could be imagined. His vessel had never encountered such a storm before, and although the waves of the Atlantic might be at times higher, and the wind more violent, he had never experienced such weather. Saturday, April 17th. After such a night very little. breakfast sufficed for most of us this morning, but as the weather continued to improve most of us were on deck as we passed Cape Caroveiro, and shortly afterwards the palace of Mafra in the far-distant horizon was pointed out to us. We then passed the range of hills, behind which Cintra lies, the outlines of the palace of the ex-king, which crowns one of them being visible. The range, which terminates at the mouth of the Tagus, is termed the rock of Lisbon. We rounded the rock and entered the river's mouth, which, at first, looks like an arm of the sea, but as we steam on by degrees we get into smoother water, a pleasing contrast to the rough sea outside. We took a pilot on board, not that there is any difficulty in navigating the river, but that he might show us the best place to anchor. Lisbon is situated about six miles from the mouth of the Tagus, which is there as wide as the Mersey at Liverpool. It is a very ancient city. It was, with the rest of Spain, under the dominion of Carthage. Subsequently Portugal, or further Spain, was reduced into a Roman province, when good roads were constructed. In the eighth century it was invaded by the Moors, who were finally expelled in 1147. This final conquest of the city by the Christians forms a grand epoch in its history. Towards the end of the 14th century the greater part of it was burned by Don Henrique of Castile. From the geographical position of Portugal it would seem natural for it to form part of Spain, and this was accomplished for a time by Philip II. His Commander the Duke of Alva entered Lisbon in 1581, pillaged the city, and proclaimed Philip King of Portugal. In order to obtain possession of it he made various promises, all of which the Portuguese said were shamelessly violated. They hated the foreign rule which they found most injurious to their interests, until at length their hatred of it became so intense that on a day that had been fixed by a preconcerted plan all the Spaniards in the country were either assassinated or driven from it, and Don Joǎo was declared king. The hated rule having lasted sixty years, Spain attempted to reimpose it, but unsuccessfully. Almost as soon as we had anchored, Mr. William Shaw came on board, a young gentleman who has just finished his education in England, son of Mr. Duncan Shaw, the British Consul at Cordova, an old friend of our Admiral. He joins our party here and accompanies us as our guide through Spain. Mr. Oakley, a well-known English gentleman, at Lisbon, also came on board, and as soon as the steam launch was ready we went on shore to visit this truly marble city. Solomon made silver so plentiful in Jerusalem that "it was not anything accounted of," at Lisbon it is the same with white marble. Not only the public buildings, but the shops and whole streets are constructed of it, while many of the footpaths are paved with a tesselated pavement of chalk converted into white limestone, presenting a marble-like appearance. The city is built almost entirely on the south side of a range of hills, said to be seven in number, which rise not far from the river's edge, the streets being as steep as those in Edinburgh. There is, in consequence, every facility for drainage, and the principal streets are kept very clean. Our letters had been ordered to be addressed to the British Consul; but, as it was past 4 o'clock when our messenger reached his house, we are informed that we cannot have them till Monday morning. Although letters addressed to Lisbon will reach their destination, the city is neither called nor spelt Lisbon by the Portuguese, but Lisboa. We dined on shore in the evening, and then returned to the yacht. It was strangely quiet after last night's storm. When we descended to our cabins, a loud sound was heard which we could not account for; at first, we thought it might be very loud snoring, and then that it was the humming of a mill at work on shore. When we stopped at Lisbon on our return voyage the same noise, each evening, resounded again through the whole interior of the vessel, when the Captain said he believed it was made by fishes! as he had heard before of a species of small fish congregating under vessels, and making a noise like frogs in spring. Sunday, April 18th.-This morning all nature seems hushed in stillness; no cloud or mist impedes the rays of the genial morning sun, as we hear, on waking, the silvery sounds of the bells of the grand old church of St. Mary, in Belem, mellowed by passing over the water, inviting to an early service, or song of thanksgiving to the Author of all Good. It was a great contrast to the black night at sea, and recalled to mind Milton's well-known lines "Hail, holy light! offspring of Heaven first-born! Or of the eternal co-eternal beam May I express thee unblamed? since God is light, Dwelt from eternity; dwelt then in thee, Bright effluence of bright essence increate!" This old church, St. Mary, in Belem, is at the western end of the city, and was not destroyed by the great earthquake of 1755. It is a mixture of Gothic and Moorish architecture, and was built at the end of the 15th century, with a groined roof supported by slender and chaste marble columns. The entrance door is very magnificent. When we entered, the grand interior seemed hardly sufficiently lighted; but in a few minutes we found this to be a mistake, and that the windows really were well placed, and ample for the requirements of the sacred edifice. The few men present were carelessly standing and looking about, while some women were sitting on planks in the centre of the building; but in the transept one poor man, a priest, and two women, motionless, and apparently devout worshippers, knelt before one of the images. There did not appear to be any congregation of respectable people at the service, except the school children. When one of our Lisbon friends told us, in explanation, that Lisbon gentlemen did not attend Roman Catholic places of worship on Sunday or any other day-they would not for a moment think of such a thing; while, as an instance of the curious mixture of faith in patron saints manifested by the ignorant, yet want of reverence for them, he told us that, a short time ago, a poor fisherman fell into the water; as he came up and they were trying to save him, he had just time to promise a pound of candles, if saved, to his patron saint, when he slipped from them and sank; the next time they succeeded, when the first thing he said, upon coming round, was, The beggar would not have saved me if I had not promised him a pound of fat." Such gross ignorance seems surprising, yet it is less so than that educated priests should not only not instruct their poor people better, but burn the candles en masse round the images in broad daylight, when the sun is shining in full glare, and the light of candles in competition is paltry enough; surely the priests must know of the command"Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image," &c.forbidding any image to be used in any way connected with worship. If they cannot see that the images and glorification of them, in lighting them up, is in direct contravention of Scripture, it is very extraordinary; however, it is better to burn the candles than those who dare to differ from them. A great movement against unnecessary monastic establishments has been made in Portugal, and as the monastery and convent attached to this church are no longer required for their original purpose they are now used for the education of about 350 lads who are chiefly trained for naval service. We were much pleased with their appearance and the well ordered arrangements, and to see the old buildings used for such a good purpose. We afterwards visited the cemetery, which is well situated outside the city. On our return from it, about four o'clock, we heard loud reports as of small cannon, and saw a whole street full of people flocking to a large amphitheatre, it was the Plazo de Toros. I told our party on the voyage that I should not go to a bull-fight in Spain, whether the rest did or no, but the Lisbon gentlemen with us explained this was one shorn of its cruelty-a bull-fight without cruelty-no animal being hurt. I was accordingly urged to see and to record in the Journal how this was effected. We accordingly went in, at least those of us who were returning from the cemetery; but the critic of our party and I did not stay long after the proceedings had commenced. The building is a vast amphitheatre, open to the sky, with an arena in the centre, just after the plan of those at Rome, in the old Roman days. It was a warm day with a cloudless sky, and when you looked round and saw all the tiers, devoted to the common people, rising tier above tier crowded with thousands of them, and when the time was due for a commencement, heard them calling and shouting at the top of their voices for no delay, you might fancy yourself back at Rome in the days of Nero. A Spanish bull-fight is disgusting to those unaccustomed to such scenes, from the gross brutality of it; the horses being gored to death, fifteen or more sometimes by one bull; the agony of the animals in their death struggles, and their blood and entrails, from the wounds inflicted, being witnessed with shouts and cheers. At Lisbon the programme is for a wild bull to be let into the arena, when it charges at gaily dressed men, some with red mantles and some without; the bull being continually baulked to the amusement of the spectators, while darts are thrust into him to make him more furious-but not explosive darts as in Spain. As soon as he is tired some cows are brought in, when he quietly retires with them, and another is brought in in his steadone or more fine horses being introduced both before and during the performance. The excellence of the horseman |