ancient fortification with its low tower, and another tower to the left showing its modern annex. The belfry of Santa Cruz was another landmark. Diagonal lines of wall broke up the steep slopes beneath the ramparts where the dull green of olive trees and spring-blossoming foliage were seen in distinct relief. New houses crowded on the lower slopes.
Beyond the outline of the whole hill, and filling the vast area between the many heights and spreading over them north and west, lay the lovely city with its tender greys, pinks and veined-marble hues, an old-world vision of inimitable beauty, or as a Portuguese writer of to-day puts it, "an immense city of hills, a queen in repose, lacking only the fitting crown of some great palace on one of her classic hills."
There is an image in the church representing the Christ drooping under the burden of the Cross in so life-like a manner that the superstitious have asserted that the figure is of real flesh and blood. Every Friday this image, celebrated under the name of Senhor dos Passos da Graça is exhibited, that the faithful may make their pilgrimage to the hill summit, for there is strong belief in the power of the image to perform miracles of healing and answer to prayer. The rich visit it as often as the poor.
Reluctantly one withdraws from that broad terrace overlooking the beautiful city. We pass by the pretty little garden with its palm trees and fountain, cross the road and a raised open space, and dip into the broad, well-made road descending from Graça to the Largo of S. Vicente, where stands perhaps the most imposing church of the city. The original building was founded by D. Affonso Henriques during the famous siege in honour of the German knights who fell fighting for his cause. From being erected outside the city wall it has always
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