Nothing ever was more dead than this town. Oh, intolerably dead! No news here.
I shall write longer by the next opportunity.
With every best spring of the heart to you all,
Charles.
Lisbon and the Tagus
To one who enters the Tagus in a fine season there is something inexpressibly captivating wherever he turns his eyes.
The magnificent rock or mountain, forming a gigantic portal to the mouth of the river, is remarkable for the richness and variety of colour, the grandeur of its size, and the wildness and taste of its form.
From this feature, towards Lisbon, towns, orange groves, forts, and palaces make every yard a picture, and as he approaches Lisbon the size and style of the buildings advance; the great convents, dazzling white, the activity of the great road, the grinning batteries, the fury of the bar, the whirling of the current, the antique richness and eminent shape of the Tower of Belim, and then the splendid burst of the city, with her thronged quays and mounting palaces, will long prevent the visitor from perceiving that the southern bank of the river has nothing but loftiness to recommend it.
A traveller who has seen Messina from the Straits immediately knows what is wanting to Lisbon, viewed from the Tagus.
Messina presents to his view all that can be beautiful in a superb city, embosomed in all that is luxuriant and romantic in Nature.