In describing, therefore, a Portuguese country inn of a hundred years ago, the picture of one of the present day will fully answer our purpose, even of that to which we are about to conduct our readers, which yet exists with few marks of change about it. It stands on the northern edge of a wild sandy common, broken into irregular hillocks, partially sprinkled with gum-cistus, gentian, the flowering heath, and other low shrubs and plants, while, in the far distance, is perceived the long dark line of a pine-forest. The ground on the other side of the inn is cultivated, though very imperfectly; and here and there a few mean cottages may be seen, with heaps of dirt in front, and pools of mud, in which the favoured pigs of the inhabitants delight to wallow. The inn is a long low building, the bush hung out on a pole in front being the sign that all are welcome to enter, as was once the custom in England. The walls are of rough stone, having a row of windows, with red shutters, rather battered, and destitute of glass, on the upper story; but the only opening on the ground floor is the large entrance door, which leads at once into a spacious stable, strewed with straw, and with no very great attention to cleanliness; a manger, running round it, without any divisions for stalls; so that the animals therein may, at will, amuse themselves by kicking at each other, free from those unsocial restraints which English civilisation has introduced; very like a certain class of liberals, who would do away with wholesome laws, much for the same sensible object. This is decidedly the best part of the building, as much attention being paid to the comfort of the animals as to that of their owners; though, by a partition of rough deal boards, an apartment is separated from it to the right, which serves the purpose of kitchen, parlour, and bedroom, to the greater part of the family and guests. On a low hearth, on one side of it, a wood fire blazes, the smoke escaping through the doors and windows, as it best can; and on the walls, near the fire-place, are hung a few large and very ordinary kitchen utensils, the other parts being adorned with horse furniture, rows of onions, dried fish, and other provisions of the coarsest sort. A rough deal table and benches run close to the wall the whole length of the apartment; and there is a shorter one on the opposite side, near the fire. The floor is of clay, perfectly black, and beaten hard, but worn into irregular undulations and holes where most trodden on. We are now describing the past and the present, and probably the future, for many years to come, though we cannot pierce the gloom of the dark abyss of time; but as our business is rather with the past, we prefer adhering to that tense. The further end of the room opened into a sort of stable-yard, from which freely entered at all times several long-legged, thin white swine, with a youthful progeny of grunters, who were allowed