he collection of the revenue. An
immense portion of the taxes had hitherto gone into the pockets of
the collectors. Pombal appointed twenty-eight receivers for the
various provinces, abolished at a stroke a host of inferior officers,
made the promisers responsible for the receivers, and restored the
revenue to a healthy condition. Commerce next engaged his attention;
he established a company to trade to the East and China, the old
sources of Portuguese wealth. In the western dominions of Portugal,
commerce had hitherto languished. He established a great company for
the Brazil trade. But his still higher praise was his humanity.
Though acting in the midst of a nation overrun with the most violent
follies and prejudices of Popery, he laboured to correct the abuses
of the convents; and, among the rest, their habit of retaining as
nuns the daughters of the Brazilian Portuguese who had been sent over
for their education. By a wise and humane decree, issued in 1765, the
Indians, and a large portion of Brazil, were declared free.
Expedients were adopted to civilize them, and privileges were granted
to the Portuguese who should contract marriage among them. Of course
those great objects were not achieved without encountering serious
difficulties. The pride of the idle aristocracy, the sleepless
intriguing of the Jesuits, the ignorant enthusiasm of the people, and
the sluggish supremacy of the priests, were all up in arms against
him. But his principle was pure, his knowledge sound, and his
resolution decided. Above all, he had, in the person of the king, a
man of strong mind, convinced of the necessities of change, and
determined to sustain the minister. The reforms soon vindicated
themselves by the public prosperity; and Pombal exercised all the
powers of a despotic sovereign, in the benevolent spirit of a
regenerator of his country.

But a tremendous physical calamity was now about to put to the test
at once the fortitude of this great minister, and the resources of
Portugal.

On the morning of All-Saints' day, the 1st of November 1755, Lisbon
was almost torn up from the foundations by the most terrible
earthquake on European record. As it was a high Romish festival, the
population were crowding to the churches, which were lighted up in
honour of the day. About a quarter before ten the first shock was
felt, which lasted the extraordinary length of six or seven minutes;
then followed an interval of about five minutes, after