h as apparent content and composure as an English
statesman would proceed down Charing Cross. Custom reconciles
everything. In a week or two the stranger himself begins to feel less
the things which annoyed him so much upon his first arrival, and after a
few months' residence he thinks no more about them, while he is partaking
of the hospitality and enjoying the elegance and splendour within doors
in this great city.

Close by the riverside stands what is called the Palace of the
Captain-General of Pernambuco. Its form and appearance altogether strike
the traveller that it was never intended for the use it is at present put
to.

Reader, throw a veil over thy recollection for a little while, and forget
the cruel, unjust, and unmerited censures thou hast heard against an
unoffending order. This palace was once the Jesuits' college, and
originally built by those charitable fathers. Ask the aged and
respectable inhabitants of Pernambuco, and they will tell thee that the
destruction of the Society of Jesus was a terrible disaster to the
public, and its consequences severely felt to the present day.

When Pombal took the reins of power into his own hands, virtue and
learning beamed bright within the college walls. Public catechism to the
children, and religious instruction to all, flowed daily from the mouths
of its venerable priests.

They were loved, revered, and respected throughout the whole town. The
illuminating philosophers of the day had sworn to exterminate Christian
knowledge, and the college of Pernambuco was doomed to founder in the
general storm. To the long-lasting sorrow and disgrace of Portugal, the
philosophers blinded her king and flattered her Prime Minister. Pombal
was exactly the tool these sappers of every public and private virtue
wanted. He had the naked sword of power in his own hand, and his heart
was as hard as flint. Ho struck a mortal blow, and the Society of Jesus
throughout the Portuguese dominions, was no more.

One morning all the fathers of the college in Pernambuco, some of them
very old and feeble, were suddenly ordered into the refectory. They had
notice beforehand of the fatal storm, in pity from the governor, but not
one of them abandoned his charge. They had done their duty, and had
nothing to fear. They bowed with resignation to the will of Heaven. As
soon as they had all reached the refectory, they were there locked up,
and never more did they see their rooms, thei