CHAPTER III. 

 L I s B N — continixed. 



As WE Climbed and descended the everlasting? hills of 

 Lisbon, or as we sat in her many squares or amidst the 

 semi-tropical plants and shrubs in her beautiful public 

 gardens, the thought would often recur to our minds, that 

 a whole city and people were buried beneath us ; and we 

 could not help picturing to ourselves. the awful catastrophe 

 as it must have suddenly overwhelmed that flited spot. 

 But little more than r. hundred years had elapsed sines 

 the vv^orld-renowned earthquake had in a few minutes, and 

 without previous warning, laid the entire city in ruins, 

 aestroving the houses., which cr-ambied up, it is said, and 

 disappeared in dust, burying the wTetched inhabitants be- 

 neath the debris. It is difficult to imagine such a visi- 

 tation. The morning of November 1, 1755, was fine and 

 calm; the sun shone out in full lustre, and' the whole face 

 of the sky is reported to have been serene and clear; and 

 there was nothing to betoken any unusual event, no 

 warning rum.bling to herald the impending calamity. 

 The city stood in its accustomed sunshine, and the in- 

 habitants rose to their evcry-day oCcapations, never dream- 

 ing of the general destruction hanging over them. Then 

 of a sudden the first shock began, rapidly followed by 

 other and more severe shocks, till, in the short space of 

 fifteen minutes, the gr{>ater part of the city was destroyed, 

 and the 2:reat bulk of the inhabitants overwhelmed. Nor 



