you see worn in Scotland, traversing stony highways; again over ditches, into a morass, in which we plunge and flounder and rush out as best we can. How keen the air, and how much better this joyous communion with nature than cottoned away in the close nursery of civilization, every faculty alive and bracing and the spirit of emulation in every breast! Who shall be first? Which of us will jump the most fences? Who shall carry off the brush? How like the great hunt in which we are all engaged, and which we call existence! And what wins in the world wins in the hunting field-nerve, coolness, resolution, honest, steady riding to the goal, turning neither to the right nor to the left, but following the path of duty wherever it leads, whether into smooth ways or rough fields or over venturesome walls.

Well, we ride three-quarters of an hour, perhaps an hour, and the cry ahead tells us that the hunt is over. Reynard did not take to the hills when his chance was given him, but sought a covert, away from the cold, perhaps, not dreaming that his freedom was really his doom, and the hounds have found him. And all that remains of poor Reynard is his brush, which Lord Howth presents to the English lady who was in at the death, and we all

raggle home. The hunt has not been a long one, but, Considering that we expected none at all, everybody feels an agreeable disappointment, and we come back into the town feeling that the day has not been altogether an idle

one.

The advantages of Pau, as far as I can sum them up, are the air and the scenery. You are in the centre of a beautiful region, and if your eye craves beauty here it will always be satisfied. To men of science there is an endless field of study in the geology of the Pyrenees. Invalids are within an easy range of famous baths and springs. Lou

can run down to Biarritz in three hours, and bathe in the sea. If you like walking, the roads are fine, and there is unvarying interest in the scenery, the manners and customs of the people. If you are adventurous, you may climb Balaturs, and see on one side the sunny plains of France, on the other the stripped and desolate hills of Aragon. If you are devout, and believe in manifestations of holy presences on earth, you are within an hour of the most famous sanctuary in the world, even the shrine of Our Lady of Lourdes. In winter the weather is, as a general thing, dry, and the sun is sure to be about some part of the day. Medical men speak highly of Pau, but that evidence you must take with all caution, as medical men speak highly of every place I have ever known, except the Jersey flats. Still there is a good deal of sound evidence in favor of Pau. The soil is gravelly, and absorbs rain. The air is influenced by the Pyrenees, by the sea breezes, by the odors of the pine forests that cover the Landes. It is a dry air, and you are told that for weeks the leaves are motionless, so still is the atmosphere.

CHAPTER XXVI.

GENERAL GRANT IN LISBON · INTERVIEW WITH THE KING THE GREAT EARTHQUAKE - LISBON AS IT IS THE KING AS A SHAKESPEARIAN SCHOLAR

CINTRA
SPAIN

BEAUTIFUL

THE CONTRAST BETWEEN PORTUGAL AND -THE SPANISH BULL-FIGHT—HOW BULL-FIGHTS GENTLER ASPECTS OF

ARE CONDUCTED IN PORTUGAL

THE SHOW.

From Pau the travellers went to Lisbon, where they arrived on the last day of October. From this point, one of the party writes as follows:- Lisbon is a city built as it were on billows. The view from the river is very beautiful, recalling, in some degree, the view of Constantinople from the Bosphorous. The skies were gracious to our coming, and the air was as warm as a Virginia spring. There are so many stories about the foundation of Lisbon that the reader may take his choice. Ulysses is said to have made this one of his wanderings, and to have, in the words of Camoens, bidden "the eternal walls of Lisbon rise." There is a legend to the effect that Lisus, friend of Bacchus, was the founder, while other authorities say that it was the great-grandson of Noah, a person named Elisa, and the date they fix at two thousand one hundred and fifty years before Christ, or two hundred and seventy-eight years after the Deluge. The value of these legends is that there is no way of contradicting them, and one is about as good as another. I find it easier to believe the narratives I hear, and to fancy, as I walk up and down the steep, descending streets, that I am really in classical society. It is due to Elisa's claim to say that the time is fixed, and that

it was only four thousand and twenty-eight years ago. As we come into more attainable chronology, we find that Lisbon was once a part of the Carthagenian dominions, and supported Hannibal. That astute commander had such hard luck in the world, that I have always been disposed to take his part, and Lisbon has a friendlier look now that

ROMAN WATCH-TOWER OVERLOOKING LISBON.

I know she stood by the Carthagenian captain against the power of Rome. It shows a lack of enterprise in the Lisbon people that they have not found out the house in which Hannibal lived, or the trees under which he prayed, as all well-regulated towns in the United States do concerning Washington. There was no trace of Hannibal in Lisbon. The people seemed to be under the impression that the only great commanders who had ever been in Lisbon were Don Sebastian and the Duke of Wellington. They show the

very quay from which Don Sebastian embarked on the journey from which he has not returned, and the relics of Torres Vedras are in the suburbs, where the Duke began his sentimental errand of delivering Europe.

Julius Cæsar was kind to Lisbon, although the people -such is the ingratitude of modern times seem to have forgotten it. Then came the Goths, who took it from the Romans and plundered it. The Goths, who seem to have been an uninteresting people, well deserving their fate, were driven out by the Moors more than eleven centuries

ago. The Moors never had much peace in Lisbon, and the chronicles of their reign are chronicles of assaults and counter-assaults-now Christian ahead and now the infidel-for centuries, so that real estate must have been as bad an investment during their day as in New York since the panic. But there came a prince of the house of Burgundy, about seven centuries ago, and he whipped the Moors in a pitched battle. The chief incident in this transaction was the appearance of our Saviour to the king