methods of both were productive of happy results. As allusion to the great Pombal and his period is constantly being made, whether one passes through Lisbon superficially or lingers to inquire into the history of things, interest is heightened by acquiring a certain knowledge of facts connected with the man and the terrible event.
Undoubtedly the earthquake of 1755 was the greatest catastrophe that Lisbon had experienced, not because it was more terrible than the earlier one of 1531, but because, say certain politicians, the capital was temporarily the most opulent and rich in all Europe. In 1531 the convulsion was so strong that the waters of the Tagus divided in the middle, showing the sandy bed, breaking up and engulfing the shipping anchored in that busiest and most crowded of contemporary havens. Many churches, palaces and fifteen hundred houses were destroyed. The disasters caused by this great upheaval seem to have disappeared in an extraordinarily short time. Portugal has shown in many extremities an active power of recuperation and the possession of strong sons who appear when the hour of need demands them.
About half-past nine in the morning of November 1, 1755, a subterranean noise was audible throughout Lisbon. The sound increased with a terrifying continuity, and violent earthquake shocks shook the city to its most solid foundations. They lasted for seven minutes. Part of the inhabitants were in their houses and numbers in the churches, for it was one of their chief festivals, All Saints' Day—Todos os Santos. Harrowing scenes akin to those related of recent earthquakes occurred on all sides. The river again rose from its bed, inundated the town, and threatened to submerge the whole of the lower part. The quay of the Terreiro do Paço, noted for its sumptuous construction, and considered the finest landing-stage in
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