mortals; the Mother of God herself was theirs. The original miraculous portrait in a rich frame of gold inlaid with diamonds and pearls, is still to be seen in the church which was built, and almost every Mexican has one of more or less value in his house, and of every variety from cheap engravings to the most costly paintings; below the picture are these characteristic Latin words, "Non fecit taliter omni nationi." When I first went to Mexico, I was looking at one of these paintings, and I asked a friend who was with me what they meant? Why, said he, they mean that she has never made such cursed fools of any other people. There never was a more accurate translation, although not very literal; the Mexicans, doubtless, would say that it was not a very liberal one.

If the reader should again ask, and does anybody believe this? I answer, that on the anniversary of this miracle I went to the church of Guadaloupe where more than fifty thousand people were assembled, amongst them the President Bravo and all his cabinet, the archbishop, and in short everybody in high station in Mexico. An oration in commemoration of the event was delivered by a distinguished member of the Mexican congress. He described all the circumstances of the affair as I have given them, but with all the extravagance of Mexican rhetoric, just as one of our fourth of July orators would narrate the events of the Revolution. The President and others exchanged all the while smiles and glances of pride and exultation.

The church is the most beautiful building of the kind I ever saw; it is not so large and imposing, and there is a less gorgeous display of "barbaric gold" than the cathedral, but upon the whole it appeared much more beautiful. Instead of the balustrade partly of gold of the cathedral it has one of pure silver, and of the same size as that in the

cathedral. Most of the vases, waiters, candlesticks, &c., are of the same metal.

But I do not know why such things as these which I have been describing should excite "our special wonder." Are there not stories equally ridiculous which are believed in other Catholic countries. Saint Nicholas is the patron saint of boys, because, as the tradition goes, a friend had sent his two sons to St. Nicholas to be educated by him; on their journey they were murdered by the innkeeper where they lodged. This being revealed to St. Nicholas in a dream, he repaired to the place, and found the innkeeper boiling the flesh and bones of the boys to make soap. of them. St. Nicholas, by a miracle, restored them to life.. I have often seen engravings representing the miracle.

There are few edifices in the world held in so devout reverence as the convent of St. Catharine, on Mount Sinai, the history of the building of which on that desert moun-tain, as I understand it, is this:-St. Catharine died in Alexandria, and long afterwards appeared to a pious monk in a dream, and told him that her bones had been removed, by a miracle, to Mount Sinai, and that she wished the convent to be built on the spot. Upon examination, a human skeleton was found imbedded in the solid rock,-of course the bones of St. Catharine, and carried there by a miracle. The convent and temple were erected, and it is said to be one of the most beautiful structures in the world; none, perhaps, is held in greater reverence. But I feel that I am treading on dangerous ground. The fault is not mine for describing these things as I have seen them. I quarrel with no man for his religious opinions; but I have a right to discuss them, and to describe the rites and ceremonies as I have seen them. No one can doubt the sincerity of the professors of a religion, so many heroic martyrs of which have perished at the stake, and which for so long a time

was the only Christian church; and, even now, can boast of a larger number than all other Christian sects united. I believe that they are at least as sincere in the great cardinal principles of their faith as the Protestants are; that is, the great body of the church, I cannot say as much for the priests; and, I must say, that in that greatest of virtues, charity, in all its forms, they are greatly superior to us. There is scarcely a desert upon the face of the earth which Catholic charity has not penetrated. It was the remark of Cook, the great traveller, that he never, in any country, applied to a woman for relief that he did not receive it, if it was in her power to bestow it. I doubt not that he might have said the same thing of the Catholic priests. Their houses are always the abodes of hospitality and benevolence.

I have seen, in the church of San Augustin, one or two hundred people assembled at night; the chapel was darkened, and they took off their clothes and lacerated themselves severely with pieces of hard, twisted cord, made like a cat-o'-nine-tails. It was not such a flogging as Sancho gave himself to disenchant Dulcinea, but a real bonâ fide castigation. Of this I have no doubt, for I picked up one of the disciplinas, the instrument used, and it was wet and soaked with blood. I stood at the door as the penitents came out, and recognized amongst them some of the most respectable people in Mexico. No one in his senses can doubt the sincerity of those who will voluntarily inflict such torture upon themselves.

There was an amusing incident connected with this scene of self-castigation. Some mischievous boys (for boys are pretty much the same in Mexico as everywhere else) had contrived to get into the church, and for fear that the whipping would not be well done, they commenced operations themselves. They were discovered, perhaps, from

the greater severity of their blows than those which the men were inflicting on themselves, and there was a great commotion for a short time. The whipping lasted for ten or fifteen minutes, and the sound was very much like the pattering of hail.

I do not think that the clergy of Mexico, with very few exceptions, are men of as much learning as the Catholic clergy generally are in other countries. The lower orders of the priests and friars are generally entirely uneducated, and, I regret to add, as generally licentious. There is no night in the year that the most revolting spectacles of vice and immorality, on the part of the priests and friars, are not to be seen in the streets of Mexico. I have never seen any class of men who so generally have such a "roué" appearance as the priests and friars whom one constantly meets in the streets. Of the higher orders and more respectable members of the priesthood, I cannot speak with the same confidence; if they are vicious, they are not publicly and indecently so. Very many of them have several nephews and nieces in their houses, or, at least, those who call them uncle. The reason given for the injunction of celibacy, that those who are dedicated to the priesthood should not be encumbered with the care of a family, is, I think, in Mexico, much more theoretical than practical.

I cannot close these remarks without saying that there are men who belong to the Priesthood of Mexico, whose pure, virtuous, and self-sacrificing lives would make them ornaments of any Christian sect in any age or country,— the Bishop of California for instance, who, after spending the prime of his life in doing the work of his Divine Master, returned to Mexico utterly destitute, and lived on charity. He had all his life been in the receipt of a large income, all of which he had expended in charities.

CHAPTER XII.

The Museum-Old Indian Weapons at the period of the Conquest-Hieroglyphics-Armor of Cortes-Journal of Bernal Diaz-Pedro de Alvarado-The Stone of Sacrifice.

Or the sights in the city of Mexico, the museum may be considered the first and most important. To an antiquary, it presents many curious things. Catlin would luxuriate in it. But it contains little else than Indian antiquitiesthe instruments of war used by the Mexicans at the period of the conquest, bows and arrows, lances, swords, cotton armor and their wooden drums, the sound of which is described by Bernal Diaz, "was like a sound from hell." Many of these weapons are precisely the same as those used in former times by our own Indians. The most curious of these is the sword described by Bernal Diaz, as espada como navajas-a sword like razors." It was a wooden staff, four or five feet long, with four blades, about ten inches in length, and shaped like a razor, inserted on each side at right angles, with the staff. These blades are made of obsidian volcanic glass, in which the country abounds, and which is not distinguishable from the glass of a black bottle, and is quite as brittle. Yet Bernal Diaz says, that he has seen a horse's head cut entirely off with one of these swords. There is also in the museum, a mask made of this very fragile material, and having all the polish of the finest glass.

There are some curious specimens of the paper used by