flight of steps into an obscure and gloomy cavern consecrated to St. Catharine. It is illuminated only by the light which ascends through an aperture in the rock below, where the sea enters. As we descended, we saw nothing but the sea and rocks, over which the waves broke with tremendous violence. The gloom and solitude of the place, and the unceasing roar of the waters, imposed a sort of feeling not unmixed with awe. I was not surprised to see Balthazar and the boatmen on their knees, before the image of St. Catharine. The ascent to the mountain was very steep, and grew more laborious as we approached the summit. Rude crosses were erected on almost every crag. We were often obliged to stop and rest. As we ascended,

"Oft did the cliffs reverberate the sound

Of parted fragments tumbling from on high,
And from the summit of the craggy mound
The perching eagle oft was heard to cry,

Or on resounding wings to shoot athwart the sky."

Several little chapels were built on the top of the mountain. A few pines and cypresses grew at intervals. Among the crevices of the rocks, the laurestinus, gum cystus, and other shrubs flourished luxuriantly. As we climbed up, the air seemed impreg.. nated with the fragrance which they threw around.

"E'en the rough rocks with tender myrtle bloom,
And trodden weeds send out a rich perfume."

The convent stands nearly at the summit. It is a singular irregular pile, inhabited by the bearded Franciscans. The walls of the great chapel were covered with votive offerings to our lady of Arrabida, whose miracles are without number. We saw waxen ears, eyes, arms, legs, noses, fingers, toes, and almost every part of the human body suspended in token of the cures which she had wrought; for wherever the disease is situated, a representation of that part is hung up in gratitude by the patient on

recovery.

It was late in the afternoon when we got back to St. Ubes. We ordered Balthazar to get his mules ready, and set out immediately. We returned by the way of Aldea Gallega. We arrived in the midst of a fete which the negroes have here in this month. ' It lasts several days. The weather was boisterous, and we were obliged much to our sorrow to delay crossing the river till morning, as no boatmen would venture with us at so late an hour. They spread beds for us on the floor, without sheets or blankets. I laid down in my clothes, A huge lamp hung over the door, and skins of wine were placed against the wall, like those attack.

ed by Don Quixote. Very early in the morning we crossed the river to Lisbon.

A

...
"October 15.

The most magnificent structure erected since the earthquake, and the most conspicuous in Lisbon, is the Convento Novo, or new church of Franciscan nuns. This splendid monument of royal bigotry was built by the present Queen (she who is mad and gone to Brazil) and is dedicated to the corazon de Jesus (the Heart of Jesus). It stands at Ajuda, near Buenos Ayres, on a confmahding eminence. From its situation, and the white limestone of which it is built, it has a very airy and noble appearance. It is in the form of a cross, and at first seems to bear considerable resemblance to St. Paul's, its centre being crowned with a most beautiful and magnificent dome. The front is decorated with some good statues, and a noble colonade. Critics censure this last, which they say contains a palpable error in architecture. The massy columns are under a light entablature, and have nothing apparently to support. There is seemingly much justice in the remark. What however chiefly struck me when I first saw the church was a miserable and mean little hovel adjoining the front, and so placed as totally to destroy the symmetry and uniformity of the edifice. I could not for a long while conceive why they should allow the building to be so disgraced, until a Portuguese informed me that St. Antonio was born there. I stood corrected, and my wonder ceased. In a conspicuous part of the church is a most execrable daub by the queen's sister, intended at once as an ornament to the building, and as a monument of her piety and talents in painting. It representeth St. Michael discomfiting the prince of darkness; and in' merit both of execution and design, nearly rivals the pictures I have often beheld over ale houses in Wales, of Owen Glendower calling spirits from the vasty deep, or that which still more frequently salutes your eye in England, of

St. George that swing'd the Dragon, who e'er since
Sits on his horseback at mine hostess' door."

The other pictures which adorn the convent were painted by Pompeio Battoni; and perhaps had the painter been allowed to follow the bent of his own genius, the designs would have equalled the execution. But he was not permitted to select his own subpects. The monks, who are usually men of great taste, particularly in the fine. arts, sent him the dimensions of the altar-piece, and gave him for a subject the Heart of Christ, to which the convent is dedicated. This they, wished the painter to exemplify. Of this edifying subject he was obliged to make what he could, and probably endeavoured to render his. work as conformable as possiblo

to the taste of his employers. The Heart which is seen in the heavens sending forth radiance is surrounded by the cardinal virtues, and his holiness the Pope.

In the church at Belem, which was erected on the spot where the king was shot at, and which his majesty built in commemoration of his escape, the altar piece is highly admired by the people here. The work was executed by a native artist, and the subject is taken from the circumstance which gave occasion to the building of the church. His majesty is represented as wounded in his coach, and St. Antonio is laying hold on the reins in the act of turning the horses' heads. This I think is an unfair attempt to defraud coachey of the credit which he deserves.

The patriarchal church is situated on another eminence at Ajuda, not far from the Convento Novo. It is the most ancient in Lisbon. This church once contained immense treasures of gold and silver. Its images and altars were decked with innumerable diamonds and jewels. The celebrated nine candelabri, and the golden cross, twelve feet in height, which was inlaid with a profusion of gems, were here, but have now disappeared, together with every thing of value. Junot has laid his claw upon all. The revenues of this church were a hundred and twenty thousand pounds sterling per annum. The dignity of Patriarch is next in rank to the Papal. His dress is similar to that which is worn by the Pope, and like his holiness he rides on a white mule. The patriarchal dignity is now vacant. The last patriarch died shortly previous to the emigration of the court, and the office has not since been filled.

The churches of Lisbon contain few pictures of merit. Most of those which were in them were destroyed by the earthquake, and the few that remained have been seized by the French, who let none escape that were worth taking away. The celebrated Mosaick paintings in the church of St. Rocco have been preserved from pillage only by the difficulty of an immediate removal. Otherwise, it is probable, that they would before this have found their way to Paris. They are more excellent than I could have believed. The chapel where they are is very rich in marble, jasper, verd antique, Egyptian granite, lapis lazuli, &c. the pavement being entirely of Mosaic. The pictures were brought from Rome. They are copies from Raphael and Guido Rheni, and are three in number. The altar-piece represents Jesus baptised by John, in which are seven figures as large as life. The subjects of the two others are, the annunciation, and descent from the cross. It is impossible to conceive any thing more beautiful than the variety and brilliancy of this constellation of gems. One of the pictures is spoiled. The reflection of the sun from its ́surface dazzled the eyes of the queen's sister, who once honoured

the chapel by her presence, and that her royal sight might never again suffer the like inconvenience, she issued orders to have the polish removed. This barbarous edict was obeyed, and the painting is completely destroyed. The altar of the chapel was of silver, with figures in alto relievo. How it has been disposed of I need not mention.

I frequently walk in the cemetery of the English factory in the vicinity of the new church. It is inclosed with high walls. At the entrance is a deposit room for bodies which are placed there previous to sepulture, in order to prevent the horrors of a premature interment, which might be possible from the laws of Lisbon. Bodies for fear of infection are not allowed to remain more than twenty-four hours in the house. The Portuguese are interred in churches and their bodies covered with lime. There is no other open burial place in the city. All the protestants who die in Lisbon are buried here, heretics being excluded from holy ground. The walks of the burying ground are planted with judah trees and cypresses which shade it at all times from the sun, and impose a sombre and melancholy aspect suited to the solemnity of the place. Seats are placed in them, and they are gravelled like the alleys of a garden. In reading the names and dates over the graves, you are struck with the number of early victims. Of those who are sent hither for their health from England, but few ever return. It is not a little mortifying to see here a crowd of splendid monuments with long, pompous, flattering, and no doubt, lying inscriptions, erected to the memory of merchants and obscure individuals, of whom it is only known that they were born and died, while not a stone exists to point out to the traveller the grave of FIELDING. He has however left behind him a name acre perennius, and while our language lives his works will be the record of his fame: a record less frail than monumental marble.

The monks are proud of showing the relics which they possess, and in proportion to the number of which their convent can boast, they suppose the sanctity of its inhabitants to be increased. A monk of Lisbon was once displaying to a number of visitors a great collection of them. That which he called the most curious, and which had performed by its sacred qualities the most extraordinary miracles, was a hair of the blessed virgin. This invaluable treasure the holy father seemed to present to his attentive and believing auditors, drawing it apparently between his fingers and thumb. Among the rest was a peasant, whose eyes almost started from his head in his eager endeavours to catch a glimpse of the sacred deposit. After straining vainly for some time, "reverend father," he exclaimed, "I can see nothing." "Verily my son," said the monk, "I do believe thee. These five and twenty

years have I shown it, and yet I have not seen it myself." I have been more fortunate than this countryman, for in a Carmelite convent I have actually seen with my own eyes a veritable and bona fide hair of the virgin, so that I am inclined to suspect this other pretended hair was a gross imposition.

In passing through this last mentioned convent, which I very often do in order to walk on the roof, where there is a very extensive terrace commanding a most delightful view, I have frequently seen letters hanging by strings to the walls directed to the most glorious St. Francis. Some of them on inspection (for I have been guilty of a breach of good breeding in looking over the epistles from several of his saintship's numerous correspondents) have proved to be letters of thanks for kindness received, many merely cards of compliment, but the majority, solicitations for farther favours. St. Antonio's interest is also supposed to be very strong at court. I am unable always to preserve my gravity at sight of the virgin, Maria purissima. I met her this morning decorated with a stomacher, red shoes with gold buckles, and a hoop-petticoat, like the old pictures of Queen Elizabeth. In my visit a short time since to a convent, the monks, who had displayed all their curiosities, took out from a cabinet a waxen image designed for the Saviour of the world, which they exhibited to me with the greatest marks of delight and complacency. A Portuguese who was with me, crossed himself at seeing it. The figure was thus accoutred. It was seated in an arm chair. In an upright position it would have been about two feet high. It had on a sky blue velvet coat, cut in the fashion of Charles II., with buckram skirts and edges of gold lace. Its waistcoat was embroidered, of yellow silk with flaps to the pockets. The breeches were black satin, and the stockings of blue French silk gartered on the outside. The shoes were adorned with little round buckles, about the size of a half-dollar. On the top of his head was a wig, that flowed in three tails like the periwig which erst covered the skull of Prince Eugene, and on the top of this was a cocked hat. This is an exact description of his apparel, except that there were ruffles to the shirt sleeves, and paste kneebuckles to the breeches. As to the face, it had not much more expression than one which I have seen school-boys cut upon a turnip. From the admiration with which the holy fathers, beheld this exquisite piece of art, the care with which they preserved it, and the exultation so manifest in their looks on showing it, I have no doubt that they considered it as a chief d'ouvre. Before they recommitted it to the cabinet, they all knelt and crossed themselves before it.

When the Virgin Mary passes, many of the pious often imagine that they catch her eyes, and shout out in rapture" Oh,