of the engines were the only occurrences to mar the sameness of this
part of our voyage.

Internally all the activity usually displayed on board a British
man-of-war was being carried on incessantly; nothing was neglected, and
the captain soon led us to see that "thorough" was his motto, and that
for him there were to be no half measures. Nor did he, during the time
he was with us, ever require of us more than he was ready to undertake
himself. He set us such an example of zeal and activity, that though we
might not altogether have approved, yet we were bound to admire it.

It is the fourth day of our voyage, and we are in sight of the high land
of the Torres Vedras, at the mouth of the Tagus. Far, far away in the
background, like a magnificent panorama, rise the high, time-worn
summits of the Sierras of Spain. On approaching near enough to
distinguish objects we discovered several large baronial castles, or
convents, perched high up on bold pinnacled crags, in positions most
inaccessible and impregnable. One goes back, in fancy, to the feudal
days, and recalls those heroes of our boyish imaginations to the times
when

"Knights were bold and barons held their sway,"

with all the consequent ills of that system of government.

Our sails are filled with the balmy breath of Portugal's orange groves
as we continue our southward way. Cape St. Vincent soon rises,
Dungeness-like, right ahead, and we call to mind that this was the scene
of one of England's great naval victories. These rocks, so still and
peaceful now, have resounded to the din of deadly strife, when, in the
year 1797, a Spanish fleet, of twenty-seven sail, tried to wrest the
dominion of the seas from its lawful holders, the English fleet, under
Sir John Jervis, numbering only half that of the enemy.

Next, never to be forgotten Trafalgar is reached. Trafalgar, glorious
Trafalgar! a household word so long as England shall endure. How our
thoughts love to dwell on the deeds you witnessed our fathers do, every
man of whom was a hero.

And now arrives Sunday, August 11th, on which day, after having been
favoured with exceptionally fair weather, Gibraltar, with its mighty
rocky fortress, heaves in sight.

Before we arrive at the anchorage I would beg a slight indulgence of my
readers whilst I twist a yarn about "Gib.;" and as, I think, much of the
interest attaching to a place or object is due to a knowledge of its
previous history, I purpose to give