in his chair, and gasped for breath. "And after that," said my
informant, "things went well." Several people at the table listened to
this story and seemed to believe it. With much difficulty I preserved a
grave countenance, and congratulated him on the possession of an
ambassador who was more than a match for our Foreign Minister. Before
the end of dinner he informed me that the English were as a general rule
savages, while the Portuguese were civilised. Having lived in London he
knew this to be so. Finding that he knew the East End of our gigantic
city, I found it difficult to contradict him.

Certainly Lisbon, as far as visible poverty is concerned, is far better
than London. I saw few very miserable people; beggars were not at all
numerous; in a week I was only asked twice for alms. One constantly
hears that Lisbon is dirty, and as full of foul odours as Coleridge's
Cologne. I did not find it so, and the bright sunshine and the fine
colour of the houses might well compensate for some draw-backs. The
houses of this regular town are white, and pale yellow, and fine
worn-out pink, with narrow green painted verandahs which soon lose
crudeness in the intense light. The windows of the larger blocks are
numerous and set in long regular lines; the streets if narrow run into
open squares blazing with white unsoiled monuments. All day long the
ways are full of people who are fairly but unostentatiously polite. They
do not stare one out of countenance however one may be dressed. In
Antwerp a man who objects to being wondered at may not wear a light
suit. Lisbon is more cosmopolitan. But the beauty of the town of Lisbon
is not added to by the beauty of its inhabitants. The women are
curiously the reverse of lovely. Only occasionally I saw a face which
was attractive by the odd conjuncture of an olive skin and light grey
eyes. They do not wear mantillas. The lower classes use a shawl. Those
who are of the _bourgeois_ class or above it differ little from
Londoners. The working or loafing men, for they laugh and loaf, and work
and chaff and chatter at every corner, are more distinct in costume,
wearing the flat felt sombrero with turned-up edges that one knows from
pictures, while the long coat which has displaced the cloak still
retains a smack of it in the way they disregard the sleeves and hang it
from their shoulders. These men are decidedly not so ugly as the women,
and vary wonderfully in size, colour and complexion, though a