* On the left banks of the Tagus, opposite to the French position at Santarem, keeping open our communication with Abrantes, Elvas and Badajos, which towns were all still in our possession.

Dec. 25th. I received orders to proceed up to head-quarters, which was extremely inconvenient to me, my baggage not having yet arrived from England.

27th. I purchased a pony, hired a Portuguese servant, and made such other arrangements as were necessary to enable me to

leave Lisbon; and here I beg leave to introduce a few remarks upon this celebrated city, for the information or amusement of such of my friends who have not been there. Lisbon and its environs (seated on the north bank of the river Tagus, about ten miles from its mouth), present to the eye a most brilliant spectacle. The houses, churches, convents and other public buildings are generally very lofty, built of white stone, and occupy several hills inclining to the waterside the ancient castle of Belem near which we anchored, is a gothic building of some magnificence. Belem is joined to Lisbon by a long street or paved road running parallel with, and by the side of, the river; within its limits stand Buenos Ayres, and the little village of Alcantara, which might be supposed to form a part of Lisbon, as it is difficult to define their boundaries; in short, though Lisbon itself is ten miles up the river, yet from the City to Fort St. Julian's, near the Bar, there is almost one uninterrupted mass of buildings. The Tagus is here at least four times as wide as the Thames at London, and forms a remarkable fine harbour near the

town, where at the time we entered, were no less than six hundred vessels lying at anchor: the day being fine, many of their sails were spread to dry after the storm, which, together with the rays of the sun shining upon the white and cloudless town, produced a very pretty effect, excited my admiration, and raised expectations which were ultimately disappointed. When I landed I was astonished at the extreme filthiness of the streets, rendered more conspicuous by the light colour of the houses, which themselves on a nearer view wear but a sorry aspect from the general disuse of glass windows and the dark appearance of the ground floor, the whole front of the shops being laid open by large folding doors: this part of the house is much neglected by private families--sometimes converted into a stable or coach house, over which you occasionally find an elegant drawing-room or suite of apartments. The houses of the gentry are so large, that you often pass through eight or ten spacious and lofty rooms to a small retreat where the family live. The streets of Lisbon are for the most part built with much irregu

larity, owing possibly to the extreme inequality of the ground. Some of the most public streets are too steep to admit of carriages or persons on horseback passing, and the ground so uneven that in many instances the foundations of one street are above the house-tops of the next: very high flights of stone steps are consequently necessary to lead from one street into another. The only part of the town where the ground is at all level consists of two large squares in a very forlorn and unfinished state, which serve for market places: in the space between these two squares are "Os ruas dos Mercadores," the streets of the merchants: these streets are superior to any other in Lisbon, being flagged for foot passengers, and an uniformity and regularity observed in the buildings no where else to be seen: they have no windows to their shops, but the goods are exposed for sale at the doors as elsewhere.---What adds not a little to the uniformity of these streets is, that each branch of trade is confined to its particular street, from which it derives its name--as for example, "the street of the Goldsmiths, the street of the Drapers, the street of the Silver

smiths," &c. There are balconies to almost every house in Lisbon, which in fine weather are filled with people: it is generally such bad walking in the streets, that few persons walk in them for pleasure, Ruins of the dreadful earthquake which happened here in the year 1755 are yet to be seen in many parts of the town, and especially on the hill at Buenos Ayres. The climate of Lisbon, I need scarcely observe is remarkably fine and salubrious, in general some degrees warmer than we experience it in England. At my arrival in Portugal, I was sensibly struck with the superstitious nature of their religious ceremonies the religion of the country is Roman Catholic, and no people can adhere more closely to its forms and rites than they do. Their churches are superbly ornamented, and their processions of the Hoste or Holy Incense are so frequent, that it is scarcely possible to pass down any public street without encountering one the inhabitants all fall upon their knees as it passes; and by a late order of Lord Wellington, the officers of the British Army were required to show their respect by taking off their hats or caps. The next thing calcu