fessional duties to all the time we can command. Upon the whole, too, the Anthology has perhaps lived long enough, and its future existence, at least for the present, would be forced and unnatural. It may be, however, that at some future day we shall attempt to revive it, and possibly in a new form and under brighter auspices. With this mysterious and prophetick intimation any of our readers, who may find themselves disconsolate at its loss, may endeavour to comfort themselves.

It now only remains that we should offer our thanks to the friends who have aided us by their contributions, and rewarded us by their approbation. The assistance we have received, though not frequent nor great, has been from sources to which any one might be proud to owe an obligation. If we felt at liberty, we might flatter ourselves very agreeably by enumerating the names of those who have occasionally condescended to grace the pages of the Anthology with their writings. We regret that we have not been able to secure to them a less perishable existence. In returning our thanks for the patronage we have received, our gratitude may be the more valuable as it is not to be very widely distributed. Yet though we have never been in danger of being intoxicated by universal applause, we have been animated by the praises and support of those from whom they are most grateful. We must content ourselves with a general acknowledgment of our obligation. We cannot however, refuse ourselves the gratification of an expression of our thanks to our friend Dennie of the Port Folio, who has so often cheered us by his kind and generous encouragement. We offer him our cordial wishes for the success of his labours, and hope they may receive a more solid compensation than the feeble whispers of our praise.

In taking our final leave of the public, we yet linger awhile. It is because we have a mournful duty to perform. It would be unjust that the pages of the Anthology should be closed without at least a passing tribute to the memory of a man to whose zeal and activity we owe it, that our work did not perish at its birth. Though the pressure of other cares had prevented him from giving much direct assistance to us during the last years of his life; yet we were always sure of his smiles and good wishes. His short and active course is now ended;

but his bright example still remains, and "marshals us on" in the path of virtue and piety.

Peace to the memory of a man of worth,

A man of letters and of manners too.

FOR THE ANTHOLOGY.

EXTRACTS FROM THE JOURNAL OF A GENTLEMAN ON A VISIT TO LISBON.

(Concluded from page 307 )

THE nobility in this country are as poor as they are proud. Two or three have fortunes of five or six thousand pounds sterling a year. The rest dwindle into insignificant incomes. Titles are not hereditary. A duke or marquis enjoys his title, by creation only. The honour is conferred in the same manner as that of knighthood in England. The servility of the Portuguese to their superiours is exceeded only by their fulsome politeness towards their equals. If they confined their civility to bows and scrapes, it would be well enough. I should have no manner of objection. But when they meet in the streets they embrace with the utmost ardour, and kiss each other. It is extremely pleasant to see two of these cleanly gentlemen hugging one another on a hot day, and it must, I conceive, be still more agreeable to the parties concerned. Peasants, ass-drivers, muleteers, and beggars, manifest in their rencounters a politeness as polished, and an affection equally ardent. They take off their hats, bow down to the ground, embrace, hold each other a long while by the hand, inquire after the healths of themselves and of all their respective families, adding invariably, "Estou a seus ordens, estou seu criado."

There are in Lisbon no literary journals of any kind. One miserable newspaper only called Diario de Lisboa is published weekly, which usually contains news six months old. All English newspapers are prohibited. The Madrid Gazette, which is but one degree better, is the only foreign paper taken at the coffee houses. There are in various parts of the town bookstalls and booksellers' shops. But they seldom contain any books worth buying, unless you are partial to the biography of

saints, and literature of this kind. I purchased the other day a history of the eleven thousand virgins, in the study of which I am now deeply engaged. The pictures and prints exposed at the shop windows for sale, proclaim the arts of painting and engraving to be at an equally low ebb. Those intended for the most serious subjects resemble caricatures, and those designed for caricatures are without the least shadow of humour, and remarkable only for the most gross and disgusting indecency. The most popular prints at present are the Prince Regent's portrait, and his departure for the Brazils. A description of the latter could not be read without laughter, and such a face as the former I never saw before. It has considerably more resemblance to a baboon than to a man, and not to the most comely of the species either. Yet Bartolozzi has long been here, and languishing in neglect. A Portuguese artist has painted a picture of the battle of Vimeira, in which the English troops are not visible.

The most common sign at a tavern door in this country is a wine bush. "Good wine needs no bush." The old alliance between the two respectable professions of surgeon and barber, which seems in England to have expired with Patridge, still continues here unimpaired. A hair-dresser, or periwig-maker is in quite a distinct vocation, and is looked upon by a professor of the art of shaving and bleeding with sovereign disdain. A taylor with us sits cross-legged on a board. Here he sits at work on a stool like a shoemaker.-The "insolence of office" is not more conspicuous than "the law's delay." There is no country where the laws are so iniquitous, and so badly administered. Prisoners often remain many years without trial in dungeons, and perhaps are at last capriciously discharged without knowing for what they were confined. The clergy are not amenable, let them commit what crimes they may, to the civil law. Common criminals are hung; but the Fidalgos, whose blood is uncontaminated with base plebeian mixture, have an enviable privilege. They are permitted to have their throats cut. A surgeon marks a line with a piece of chalk across the wind-pipe of nobility, which is followed by the hangman with a long sharp sort of a carving-knife. I remember reading when I was a youth, in that philosophical work, the Newgate Calendar, that my lord Ferrars, on being condemned

for murdering his servant petitioned to be beheaded. His request not being granted, he rode to the gallows in his own coach, and was hanged in a silken rope. Lord Lovat, when told that his head should not upon certain conditions be stuck on a pole, manifested rather more indifference, if we may judge by his answer. The gallows in England is a very democratick sort of machine. There is no greater leveller of distinctions. Two offenders were condemned to be hanged at Tyburn on the same day. The first was sentenced for an exploit on the highway. The latter, who was a chimney-sweeper, was about to suffer for a more ignoble robbery. The highwayman was dressed in gay apparel, and mounted the cart with alacrity. Smut followed with slow and reluctant steps. As the clergyman was fervently praying, the former was very attentive, which the chimney-sweeper observing, and being willing to participate in the same spiritual benefit, he approached near to his fellow sufferer. This liberty was met with a repulsive look from his companion, which for some time kept him at a distance. But unmindful of this angry check, when he presumed to advance a little nearer still, the gay robber disdainfully said, "Keep farther off, can't you?" "Sir," replied the indignant sweep, "I won't keep off. "I won't keep off. I have as much right to be here as you." Customs differ strangely in different countries. In Spain and Portugal, a man who is an executioner entails eternal disgrace on his posterity. He is obliged to live by himself. No one will speak to him or associate with him, and his sons, if he is so unfortunate as to have any, are obliged, like the tradesmen in China, to follow their father's profession. Now, in Circassia people of quality exercise this office, and deem the employment an honour. So far from being accounted infamous, it reflects lustre on a whole family. A Circassian will boast what a number of Hangmen he has had among his ancestors Religious executions have of late years become much less terrible than formerly. The authority of the inquisition, which was once so dreadful, is now very seldom exerted. Several years have passed since the Portuguese have been gratified by their national spectacle, an auto da fè. It used to be a principle with the inquisitors, that it was much better for many good catholicks to suffer, than for one heretick or Jew to go unpunished, for by the life of the latter numbers might be per

verted whereas, by putting a true believer to death, you only secured his salvation. By means of this christian-like doctrine, many days of amusement were afforded to the good people of Lisbon. Within the last fifty years the burning of a Jew formed their most exquisite delight. They thronged in crowds to behold this triumph of faith, and the very women shouted with transport as they witnessed the writhings of the agonizing martyr. Neither age nor sex could save this race from persecution. The best of the Portuguese dramatick writers, Antonio da Silva, was burnt solely because he was a Jew. The last that suffered by this tribunal was a half crazy Israelite, who probably was more of a fool than rogue.-He pretendcd to be a magician, and took in several credulous people before he was discovered by the spies of the holy office. He gave out that he had known Nebuchadnezzar very intimately; that Job and he had been cronies, and partners together in the same misfortunes. He said that he had carried on a brisk trade as a wine merchant near two thousand years ago in Jerusalem, but was at length swindled out of his property by Judas Iscariot! The Jews were banished from Spain, in 1482, by Ferdinand and Isabell. All who would not consent to embrace Christianity were ordered to depart the realm within four months, under pain of death. The greater portion of them took refuge in Portugal, where they were received upon certain conditions by John the second. For a large sum of money they obtained this monarch's permission to remain in his dominions until ships to carry them away could be provided. John readily took their money, which when he had got he retracted his promise.. He allowed no ships to receive them, and as soon as the stipulated term had expired, he sold them to his subjects for slaves, and confiscated their property. His successor Emanuel set them at liberty, but ordered them soon after to depart the kingdom under pain of servitude for life, unless they were baptized within a specified time. When the period for their departure arrived, the king ordered all their children under fourteen years of age to be taken away and baptized by force. Numbers of the miserable parents, to prevent this, destroyed their children, and afterwards themselves. Not content with this, Emanuel would not allow any to embark, but offered them the alternative of baptism or slavery. The