the prickly pear, cactus, aloe, and other tropical plants grow in profusion; also a beautiful red and yellow shrub of the Borage tribe, which smells deliciously. The geraniums and pelargoniums attain the size of shrubs and trees. A lovely pink pelargonium, creeping over an arbutus to the height of some twelve or fifteen feet, was one mass of flowers. I also saw one fine india-rubber plant (Ficus elastica) about twenty feet high, and as much in diameter, with leaves a foot long. Rather larger than his brother in the study at home! The heat was very great, but on we went; and after three-quarters of an hour's ascent through picturesque and very steep streets, sometimes mounting steps with vines overhanging the walls, passing fountains surrounded by water-carriers, and people asleep in the shade under the walls, we reached the building and gardens, at the termination of the aqueduct which supplies Lisbon with

water.

This being the most important engineering work in Lisbon, I was most anxious to see it. As a rule, few travellers take the trouble to visit it. The building is a plain square massive edifice, with a good vaulted and groined roof resting on four central pillars. From the flat top, which is surrounded by a wall, there is a splendid view of Lisbon, its gardens and houses, and the Tagus. Inside the house a footway surrounds the reservoir, into which the water pours from a dolphin's mouth over a mass of rock-work. The icy coldness and rushing sound of the water were most refreshing after our walk in the sweltering heat. The size of the reservoir is thirty-two metres square by nine metres deep, so the contents are 1,875,000 gallons. Ascending a steep stone staircase, we arrived at the entrance to the aqueduct, which extends about thirty-six miles into the interior, and is covered throughout. The

interior of the aqueduct is about twelve feet high by six feet wide, and has a semi-circular roof. There is a footway in the centre, and two channels-one at each side-for the water, which also flows under the pavement forming the footway. At this point the aqueduct rests on high stone arches, and is some sixty feet above the ground; but it soon passes into a hill covered with vines and Indian corn.

On our return walk we passed through a praça, called "The Square of the rolling motion." The pavement is of black and white mosaic, arranged in alternate wave-shaped curves; the square is raised slightly in the centre, and slopes to the sides; and the effect-perhaps especially to us, from having just come off the ship-was certainly remarkable. We then went to a wine cellar with vaulted roof; it was deliciously cool, and we had some splendid sweet white wine, called Abafado moscata (price 100 reis a glass); thence to a restaurant, where we lunched à la Portugaise-ham, sausages, haricots in pods, and some good red vin du pays, rather like a sweet claret with a considerable body. Re-embarked at 4.30, and weighed anchor at 6.45 p.m.

We have now begun our journey of over four thousand miles across the Atlantic, and the next land we expect to touch at is Rio de Janeiro. We hope to pass Teneriffe on the 15th. That huge mountain has been seen by our captain 110 miles off, by a French captain (a passenger) at fifty leagues, and by a friend of his at fifty-five leagues. We have some very pleasant fellow-passengers, including a Chilian returning to Santiago, who speaks English perfectly; the French captain (au long cours) bound for Rio, to take charge of a ship, whose master has lately died there; and an Italian tenor, who is going to sing at Valparaiso, and speaks French and Spanish well. My end of the table at

meals is the foreign end. Spanish and Italian, French and Portuguese, are the languages in which conversation is carried on. This is pleasant and instructive.

June 15.-The sun rose at five, just as we were off the northerly end of the island of Teneriffe, the most important of the Canaries, and the most celebrated, owing to the lofty Peak of Teneriffe, which is situate on the southerly end, and about seventeen miles from the last shore. The Peak is 3715 metres, or 12,188 feet, high, and rises very abruptly. It is also called Pico de Teyde. Extending along the whole east coast of the island is a range of hills, beneath which, at the north-east, lies the capital, Santa Cruz; these mountains rise near the Peak to a height of 2862 metres, or 9410 feet, and are here called Las Canadas. Although out at sea, the chain appears to rise abruptly from the shore; yet its great height looks insignificant from this side, owing to the whole length of the island (fifty-three miles) being seen at once; and the Canadas again dwarf the Peak, which rises seventeen miles inland, and almost behind the highest part of this range. The effect of all this is to disappoint the general observer who has anticipated something grand in an island mountain rising 12,000 feet, and I fear I must confess that most of the passengers who looked upon the Peak for the first time ridiculed his appearance very much. From the other side of the island, however, the effect is grand in the extreme. The Cotopaxi steamed between the islands of Teneriffe and Canaria-Grand Canary-which are about forty miles apart, ten miles or so from the former. Canaria, as it appeared at 5 a.m., presented a lofty, bold, rugged, and broken outline rising above banks of mist. Its highest point is 1952 metres, or 6404 feet. The Canary group consists of seven islands, of which Teneriffe, Canaria,

Fuerteventura, and Lanzarote are the principal; while Gomera, Palma, and Hierro or Fer are the smaller. Teneriffe is about fifty-three miles long by thirty-five broad at its widest (southerly) end; and Canaria about thirty-three miles north to south, by thirty-five east to west, or roughly circular. Canaria lies about two degrees W. from the coast of Africa. When nearly opposite the Peak, we saw the Island of Gomera to the S.W. through the mist; its highest point is 1342 metres, or 4403 feet. We passed the south end of Teneriffe at 8 a.m., and the summit of the Peak remained in sight till 1.30 p.m., when it was lost in the mist; we only saw it about sixty-five miles off, but the appearance was very fairy-like.

We are fast losing the long evenings, which is very sad; to-night (June 15th) the sun set at 6.53, and it was quite dark by 7.30. I have been much interested in examining all the French captain's charts, with his voyages marked on them. He has rounded Cape Horn twentyfour times. It was from one of his maps I obtained the particulars of the Canary Islands.

June 16.-At seven this morning we passed the only ship we have seen since leaving Lisbon, a French steamer from Bahia and St. Vincent. At 8.30 this morning we crossed the Tropic of Cancer. The French captain tells me that on ships which do not cross the line, e.g. going to the Antilles, on fait la fête du tropique; but as we shall cross the line, Neptune's visit is deferred till then. Went forward this evening to hear the Spaniards singing in chorus to their guitars. The singing was beautiful, and the scene most picturesque in the clear moonlight, but the guitars sounded very wiry. Captain Hayes says he shall note this as the calmest voyage he has made so far. We have had no rolling or pitching since we got on the

Atlantic beyond the Mediterranean, and the sky has been quite cloudless.

To-day at 12.5 we had "Fire drill." The fire-bell rang, and within three minutes three hoses were pouring water on the supposed fire; then the officers called up their respective men to the several boats (eight in all), which were lowered, etc. Everything was done quickly and well. I wonder whether all would progress as calmly in the case of a real fire.

June 17.-To-day we shall get south of the sun! This morning saw the Portuguese man-of-war (Physàlia pelagica), and shoals of flying fish (Exocata volitans). The captain's canary nearly bursts its little throat with warbling all day. This is the coolest day we have had yet; the doctor says it is the coolest voyage he has made; nevertheless, the thermometer stands at 78° in my cabin, and it is 127° in the sunshine. The captain read service this morning in the saloon.

June 18.- We passed the Cape Verd Islands quite close. The flying fish are an exceedingly pretty sight. This morning there was a shark about; we saw his triangular fin. He came into a shoal of flying fish, which rose in a body and glistened like silver in the sun. Their flight is very swift and graceful; they do not rise high above the water, but rather flit just above the surface, and not always in a straight line, as I have sometimes read.

June 19. — Began to get into the south-east trade winds, and the ship pitched and rolled a good deal.

June 20.-Had a talk with Mr. Bertrand about the Falkland Islands; he has an extensive sheep farm there. The islands are about the same latitude south as London is north of the line, but the climate is much more severe than that of England; in fact, the southern latitudes in