port
themselves during this period of suffering. It was calculated that
seven millions sterling could scarcely repair the damage of the city;
and that not less than eighty thousand lives had been lost, either
crushed by the earth or swallowed up by the waters. Some conception
of the native mortality may be formed from that of the English: of
the comparatively small number of whom, resident at that time in
Lisbon, no less than twenty-eight men and fifty women were among the
sufferers.

The royal family were at the palace of Belem when this tremendous
calamity occurred. Pombal instantly hastened there. He found every
one in consternation. "What is to be done," exclaimed the king, as he
entered "to meet this infliction of divine justice?" The calm and
resolute answer of Pombal was--"Bury the dead, and feed the living."
This sentence is still recorded, with honour, in the memory of
Portugal.

The minister then threw himself into his carriage, and returned to
the ruins. For several days his only habitation was his carriage; and
from it he continued to issue regulations for the public security.
Those regulations amounted to the remarkable number of two hundred;
and embraced all the topics of police, provisions, and the burial of
the sufferers. Among those regulations was the singular, but
sagacious one, of prohibiting all persons from leaving the city
without a passport. By this, those who had robbed the people, or
plundered the church plate, were prevented from escaping to the
country and hiding their plunder, and consequently were obliged to
abandon, or to restore it. But every shape of public duty was met by
this vigorous and intelligent minister. He provided for the cure of
the wounded, the habitancy of the houseless, the provision of the
destitute. He brought troops from the provinces for the protection of
the capital, he forced the idlers to work, he collected the inmates
of the ruined religious houses, he removed the ruins of the streets,
buried the dead, and restored the services of the national religion.

Another task subsequently awaited him--the rebuilding of the city. He
began boldly; and all that Lisbon now has of beauty is due to the
taste and energy of Pombal. He built noble squares. He did more: he
built the more important fabric of public sewers in the new streets,
and he laid out a public garden for the popular recreation. But he
found, as Wren found, even in England, the infinite difficulty of
opposing